by Dean King
I hope, sir, that our conduct may prove satisfactory to our country, and that it will testify it by obtaining our speedy exchange, that we may again have it in our power to prove our zeal.
Commodore Hillyar (I am informed) has thought proper to state to his government that the action only lasted forty-five minutes; should he have done so, the motive may be easily discovered—but the thousands of disinterested witnesses who covered the surrounding hills, can testify that we fought his ships near two hours and a half; upwards of fifty broadsides were fired by the enemy, agreeably to their own accounts, and upwards of seventy-five by ours: except the few minutes they were repairing damages, the firing was incessant.
Soon after my capture, I entered into an agreement with Commodore Hillyar to disarm my prize, the Essex Junior, and proceed with the survivors of my officers and crew to the United States, taking with me her officers and crew. He consented to grant her a passport to secure her from recapture. The ship was small, and we knew we had much to suffer, yet we hoped soon to reach our country in safety, that we might again have it in our power to serve it. This arrangement was attended with no additional expense, as she was abundantly supplied with provisions and stores for the voyage.
In justice to Commodore Hillyar, I must observe, that (although I can never be reconciled to the manner of his attack on the Essex, or to his conduct before the action) he has, since our capture, shown the greatest humanity to my wounded (whom he permitted me to land, on condition that the United States should bear their expenses), and has endeavoured as much as lay in his power to alleviate the distresses of war, by the most generous and delicate deportment towards myself, my officers, and crew. He gave orders that the property of every person should be respected; which orders, however, were not so strictly attended to as might have been expected; besides being deprived of books, charts, &c. &c. both myself and officers lost many articles of our clothing, some to a considerable amount. I should not have considered this last circumstance of sufficient importance to notice, did it not mark a striking difference between the navy of Great-Britain, and that of the United States, highly creditable to the latter.
By the arrival of the Tagus a few days after my capture, I was informed that besides the ships which had arrived in the Pacific in pursuit of me, and those still expected, others were sent to cruize for me in the China seas, off New Zealand, Timor, and New Holland, and that another frigate was sent to the river La Plata.
To possess the Essex, it has cost the British government near six millions of dollars, and yet, sir, her capture was owing entirely to accident; and if we consider the expedition with which naval contests are now decided, the action is a dishonour to them. Had they brought their ships boldly into action with a force so very superior, and having the choice of position, they should either have captured or destroyed us in one-fourth of the time they were about it.
During the action, our consul general, Mr. Poinsett, called on the governor of Valparaiso and requested that the batteries might protect the Essex. This request was refused, but he promised that if she should succeed in fighting her way to the common anchorage, he would send an officer to the British commander and request him to cease firing, but declined using force under any circumstances; and there is no doubt a perfect understanding existed between them. This conduct, added to the assistance given to the British and their friendly reception after the action, and the strong bias of the faction which govern Chili in favour of the English, as well as their hostility to the Americans, induced Mr. Poinsett to leave that country. Under such circumstances, I did not conceive it would be proper for me to claim the restoration of my ship, confident that the claim would be made by my government to more effect. Finding some difficulty in the sale of my prizes, I had taken the Hector and Catharine to sea and burnt them with their cargoes.
I exchanged Lieutenant M’Knight, Mr. Adams, and Mr. Lyman, and eleven seamen for a part of the crew of the Sir Andrew Hammond and sailed from Valparaiso on the 27th April, where the enemy were still patching up their ships to put them in a state for proceeding to Rio de Janeiro, previous to going to England.
Annexed is a list of the remains of my crew to be exchanged, as also a copy of the correspondence between Commodore Hillyar and myself on that subject. I also send you a list of the prisoners I have taken during my cruise, amounting to three hundred and forty-three.
I HAVE THE HONOUR TO BE, &C.
(Signed) D. PORTER.
The honourable Secretary of the Navy of the U.S. Washington.
P.S. To give you a correct idea of the state of the Essex at the time of her surrender, I send you the boatswain’s and carpenter’s report of damages; I also send you a report of the divisions.
It will be perceived by the foregoing narrative that every means was resorted to on my part to provoke the enemy to offer battle with his single ship, but without effect. For this I do not blame Captain Hillyar, since the interests of his country ought to have been, and undoubtedly were, paramount to every other consideration, on this occasion. The reader, however, will judge for himself, whether Captain Hillyar’s attack on the Essex, then in a crippled state, and within the limits of a neutrality, which he had pledged himself to respect, was, setting aside the question of legality, either brave or magnanimous.
It was my intention to have explained the alteration in the conduct of the Chilian government towards myself, evinced in denying me a right to the protection accorded me by the laws of nations. But this would swell my narrative beyond the limits I had prescribed myself. The explanation may be found in those changes which have been so common in that country, torn by different factions, and in the meanness of that spirit, which takes part ever with the strongest. When I commanded the most powerful force in the Pacific, all were willing to serve me: but when Captain Hillyar appeared, with one still stronger, it became the great object to conciliate his friendship by evincing hostility to me. It will be recollected, by those conversant with the history of the Chilian Revolution, that my particular friends the Carreras were stripped of power and thrown into prison, the government of Chili being usurped by their most inveterate enemies. Added to all this, Captain Hillyar was acting in the character of mediator between the viceroy of Peru and the officers of the Chilian government; in which capacity, he at length caused the country to be delivered up to the royal troops, under a promise of a general and free pardon to those then in possession of power. For this service, Captain Hillyar was made an Hidalgo, and honoured with a conspicuous place in a religious procession, commemorative of the occasion, where he wore the habit of a friar and bore in his hand a waxen candle.
Soon after the capture of the Essex, I was sent on board the Phoebe, by the officer who took possession of the Essex. I had no cause to complain of my treatment while there. Captain Hillyar’s conduct was delicate and respectful. The instant of anchoring in Valparaiso, I was allowed to go on shore on parole, and the same privilege granted to my officers, as well as those of my crew who were wounded. The rest were placed under guard, on board a Spanish merchant ship, hired by Captain Hillyar for that purpose.
Under present circumstances, I could not expect any civilities from those in authority at Valparaiso. But the neglect of the governor and his officers was fully compensated by the kind attentions of the good citizens. When my wounded companions were brought on shore, they were borne to the place selected by me for a hospital, by the kind Chilians. The ladies of Valparaiso took upon themselves the task of providing for their necessities and administering to the alleviation of their sufferings. At all times, women of the most respectable appearance attended at the hospital, who tendered their services gratuitously, to take care of the wounded. Without their aid, I have no doubt, many would have died, who now live to thank them. For myself, I shall never forget their gentle humanity; and if it should not be in my power to return it, I bequeath the remembrance as a legacy of gratitude to be repaid by my country.
After providing every thing in my power for the comfort
of my wounded companions, I made a visit to the capital of Chili. I shall pass over the events of this journey, and hasten to a conclusion. On referring to the correspondence between myself and Captain Hillyar, in the appendix, it will be seen there was an arrangement made for disarming the Essex Junior, and converting her into a cartel; which I considered highly advantageous, as it ensured the safety of a prize. This case was similar to that of the Alert, to which Captain Hillyar had objected on a former occasion. His motives for acceding to such an arrangement at this time were probably founded in some apprehensions with respect to my crew, and the probable danger of trusting them on board of the Phoebe, which carried a large quantity of specie on freight to England.
The remainder of my brave crew were accordingly embarked in the Essex Junior; and on taking leave of Captain Hillyar, after acknowledging his attentions, I seized the opportunity to tell him that though I should take every occasion to do him free justice in that respect, I should nevertheless be equally plain in making known his conduct in attacking me in the manner he had done. The tears came into his eyes, and, grasping my hand, he replied, “My dear Porter, you know not the responsibility that hung over me, with respect to your ship. Perhaps my life depended on my taking her.” I asked no explanation at that time, and he gave none. He still has it in his power, however, to clear up the affair to the world; and if he can show that the responsibility rests on his government, I shall do him justice, with more pleasure than I now impeach his conduct. Until then, the stigma rests on him.
On leaving Valparaiso, every effort was made to reach home in time to fit out ships to proceed to the British channel, for the purpose of intercepting the Phoebe and her prize; and, favoured by the wind, of which we took every advantage, we arrived off Sandy Hook in seventy-three days. Here we fell in with the Saturn, a British ship of war, commanded by Captain Nash, who treated me, in the first instance, with great civility; examined the papers of the Essex Junior; furnished me with late newspapers; and sent me some oranges—at the same time making offers of his services. The boarding officer endorsed my passport and permitted the ship to proceed. She stood on in the same tack with the Saturn; and about two hours afterwards was again brought to—the papers examined, and the ship’s hold overhauled by a boat’s crew and officer. I expressed my astonishment at such proceedings; and was informed that Captain Nash had his motives. It was added that Captain Hillyar had no authority to make such arrangements; that the passport must go on board the Saturn again and the Essex Junior be detained. I insisted, that the smallest detention would be a violation of the contract on the part of the British and declared I should consider myself a prisoner to Captain Nash and no longer on my parole. I then offered my sword; assuring the officer, I delivered it with the same feelings I surrendered it to Captain Hillyar. He declined receiving it; went on board the Saturn; and returned with the information that Captain Nash directed the Essex Junior to remain all night under the lee of the Saturn. I then said—I am your prisoner; I do not consider myself any longer bound by my contract with Captain Hillyar, which has thus been violated, and shall act accordingly
At 7 the next morning, the wind being light from the southward, and the ships about thirty or forty miles off the eastern part of Long Island, within about musket shot of each other, I determined to attempt my escape. There appeared no disposition on the part of the enemy to liberate the Essex Junior, and I felt myself justified in this measure. A boat was accordingly lowered down, manned and armed; and I left with Lieut. Downes the following message for Capt. Nash: “that Captain Porter was now satisfied, that most British officers were not only destitute of honour, but regardless of the honour of each other; that he was armed and prepared to defend himself against his boats, if sent in pursuit of him; and that he must be met, if met at all, as an enemy.” I now pulled off from the ship, keeping the Essex Junior in a direct line between my boat and the Saturn, and got nearly gun shot from her before they discovered me. At that instant, a fresh breeze sprang up, and the Saturn made all sail after us. Fortunately, however, a thick fog came on, upon which I changed my course, and entirely eluded further pursuit. During the fog, I heard a firing; and on its clearing up, saw the Saturn in chase of the Essex Junior; which vessel was soon brought to. After rowing and sailing about sixty miles, I at last succeeded, with much difficulty and hazard, in reaching the town of Babylon, on Long Island, where, being strongly suspected of being a British officer, I was closely interrogated; and, my story appearing rather extraordinary, was not credited. But on showing my commission, all doubts were removed, and from that moment, all united in affording me the most liberal hospitality.
On my arrival by land at New York, the reception given me by the inhabitants, as well as by those of every other place through which I passed, it becomes not me to record. It is sufficient to say, it has made an impression on my mind, never to be effaced.
The Essex Junior, after being detained the whole of the day following my escape, and ransacked for money; her crew mustered on deck, under pretence of detecting deserters; her officers insulted and treated with shameful outrage; was at length dismissed and arrived next day at New-York, where she was condemned and sold. In the language I used at that time and subsequently, with regard to the character and conduct of British naval officers, some persons have found great cause of offence. For my full justification, I rest on the foregoing narrative, with the documents by which it is supported. Years have passed away since I first made these assertions; but they have brought with them no experience but what confirms my first impressions.
My escape from unjustifiable detention by the captain of the Saturn, was asserted to be a breach of parole; and I have the most undeniable evidence that Admiral Cochrane mustered the officers of his fleet, on his quarter deck, declaring to them that I was out of the pale of honour, and must be treated accordingly. The correspondence between the agents of the two governments, in the Appendix to this volume, will show, by Admiral Cochrane’s own distinct admission, that his government, on being made fully acquainted with the circumstances, declared me “discharged from my parole and as free to serve in any capacity as if I had never been made prisoner.” Yet, notwithstanding all this, care has been taken to keep up the impression that I remain still under this imputation of a breach of parole, by withholding, on all occasions, the public recantation of a charge publicly made and—unanswerably refuted.
In 1815 Captain Porter was named to the Board of Navy Commissioners. He would later serve as commander in chief of the Mexican Navy against Spain. President Andrew Jackson employed him in diplomatic capacities in the Mediterranean before his death in 1843.
1 Commodore William Bainbridge, on board the Constitution, was in charge of the squadron consisting of the Constitution, the Essex, and the Hornet, dispatched to the South Pacific.
William Bowers
We Discussed a Bottle of Chateau Margot Together
1812–1815
FOLLOWING A TOUR IN the West Indies, Lieutenant William Bowers joined the JL10-gun brig HMS Helicon in 1810 for a cruise off the Scilly Islands, a stretch of water he would come to know well during the next five years. With the outbreak of the American war, “we began to tire of our hard weather, and limited station,” notes Bowers. “Now and then, however, we contrived to stretch a point by getting into the wake of some smart sailing runner from Guernsey or Jersey, which by a long chase brought us into the stream of Nantes or Bordeaux. It was only necessary to keep out of the way of senior officers, and not to be caught poaching on their domains” (Naval Adventures During Thirty-Five Years’ Service, vol. 1, p. 259).
WE HAD NOW CAPTURED or destroyed six privateers, besides other vessels of the enemy; this perhaps had some weight with the powers, as, on putting into Plymouth to refit, our worthy commander at length received the promotion he had so long merited, and he left us accompanied by the regret and good wishes of all on board. He was superseded in the command by the youngest son of a distinguished flag officer, who, having been all hi
s time in large ships, at first seemed by no means to congratulate himself on his appointment to the “little bum-boat” as he called her, and used frequently to rally me on the pride I seemed to take in her; but when he got accustomed to her, his opinion of her became as favourable as my own.
Not long after, we returned to our old station west of Scilly, in company with the W, one of the crack American prize schooners, a beautiful vessel, which the dock-yard wiseacres, however, had done their best to spoil by twice reducing her masts and cramping her with bulk heads and wood work below, so that, though built expressly for fast sailing, as her model denoted, we could at all times work round her. From this, and a deficiency of skill and activity in her commander, an officer who, not having been employed for twenty years, knew not how to handle her—we lost several good prizes. One day when he was about five miles to windward, a large ship came down before the wind and passed him within hail without heaving-to. She was at first steering west by north, but, observing her gradually alter her course, as if to avoid us, I made known my suspicions to the captain, who was at first inclined to let her pass, and obtained his permission to board her. A few shot brought her down; I was already in the boat, but out of sight to leeward, and as soon as she passed within hail, saying she was bound to Newfoundland, I was alongside before any one on board were well aware of the movement, and, springing on deck, found two sailors overhauling a pocket-book, which I instantly seized, and found it contained two American protections or certificates of naturalization. On asking for the captain, a dirty-looking fellow with ear-rings, in the costume of a pig-driver, and with hands the colour of soot, presented himself with a roll of greasy papers. I asked him what privateer he belonged to; he coolly answered, “The True-Blooded Yankee.”1 The ship in fact was a valuable West Indiaman, the salvage of which subsequently furnished us with something to carry on the war in Plymouth, and make a cruise or two to Ivybridge.2 She had been captured two days before, on her way from Bristol to Cork, to join the convoy. Two young men were found locked up in one of the cabins—one, the nephew of the mayor of the former place; these expressing a desire to pay their respects to our captain, I took them on board, and on their return they insisted on loading the boat with some of the good things with which the ship abounded, which they requested us to accept in the name of their friends.