Naval battles of the world : $b Great and decisive contests on the sea

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Title: Naval battles of the world : Great and decisive contests on the sea
Author: Shippen, Edward
Language: English
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Transcriber’s Notes

Texts printed in italics, bold face or blackletter font in the source
document have been transcribed between _underscores_, =equal signs=
and ~tildes~ respectively. Small capitals have been replaced with ALL
CAPITALS.

More Transcriber’s Notes may be found at the end of this text.

[Illustration: RETURN OF THE GREEKS FROM SALAMIS.]

Naval Battles
of the World.

[Illustration]

Great and Decisive
Contests on the Sea;

Causes and Results of
Ocean Victories and Defeats;

Marine Warfare and Armament
in all ages;

with an account of the
JAPAN-CHINA WAR,

and the recent
BATTLE OF THE YALU.

The Growth, Power and Management of
OUR NEW NAVY
in its Pride and Glory of Swift Cruiser, Impregnable Battleship,
Ponderous Engine, and Deadly Projectile;

Our Naval Academy, Training Ship, Hospital,
Revenue, Light House, and Life Saving Service.

BY EDWARD SHIPPEN,
OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY.

P. W. ZIEGLER & CO.,
PHILADELPHIA AND CHICAGO

[Illustration]

COPYRIGHTED BY
JAMES C. McCURDY.

1883, 1894, 1898.

PREFACE.

This collection is intended to present, in a popular form, an account
of many of the important naval battles of all times, as well as of some
combats of squadrons and single ships, which are interesting, from the
nautical skill and bravery shown in them.

In most instances an endeavor has been made to give, in a concise
manner, the causes which led to these encounters, as well as the
results obtained.

As this book is not intended for professional men, technicalities have
been, as far as possible, avoided. But it is often necessary to use the
language and phraseology of those who fought these battles.

In all there has been a desire to give an unbiased account of each
battle; and, especially, to make no statement for which authority
cannot be found.

* * * * *

A study of naval history is of value, even in the most inland regions,
by increasing a practical knowledge of geography, and by creating an
interest in the great problems of government, instead of concentrating
it upon local affairs. At the time that this volume was first issued,
some people wondered why such a publication was necessary. The answer
was that it was to inform the people of the great centre and West of
the necessity of a navy, by showing them what navies had done and what
influence they exercised in the world’s history.

That they are fully aware of this now is also not doubtful, and the
probability is that those representatives of the people who oppose
a sufficient navy for our country will be frowned down by their own
constituents. Commonsense shows that, with our immense seacoast, both
on the Atlantic and the Pacific, the navy, in the future, is to be the
preponderant branch of our military force.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTION.

The Ancients’ Dread of the Sea; Homer’s Account of It; Slow
Progress in Navigation before the Discovery of the Lode-stone;
Early Egyptians; The Argonauts; The Phenicians and Greeks;
Evidences of Sea-fights Thousands of Years before Christ; Naval
Battle Fought by Rameses III; The Fleets of Sesostris;
Description of Bas-relief at Thebes; Roman Galleys Described;
Early Maritime Spirit of the Carthaginians; Herodotus’ Account
of the Battle of Artemisium; The Greeks under Alexander; Romans
and Carthaginians. I-19

I. SALAMIS. B. C. 480.

The Island of Salamis; Xerxes; His Immense Power; His Fleet and
Army; Events Preceding the Battle; The Contending Hosts Engage
in Worship before the Fight Begins; The Greek Admiral Gives the
Signal for Action; Many Persian Vessels Sunk at the First Onset;
Fierce Hand-to-Hand Fighting; A Son of the Great Darius Falls;
Dismay Among the Asiatics; Panic-stricken; Artifice of Queen
Artemisia; She Escapes; Xerxes Powerless; He Rends his Robes and
Bursts into Tears; Resolves to Return to Asia; Greece Wins her
Freedom. I-25

II. NAVAL BATTLE AT SYRACUSE. B. C. 415.

A Bloody Battle; Strength of the Athenians; The Fleet enters
Syracuse Harbor in Fine Order; The Sicilians Blockade the
Entrance and Imprison the Fleet; The Perils of Starvation Compel
the Greeks to Attempt to Raise the Blockade; Both Fleets Meet at
the Mouth of the Harbor; Confusion Among the Greeks; They are
Finally Compelled to Turn Back and Take Refuge in their Docks;
Another Attempt to Escape from the Harbor; Mutiny Among the
Sailors; The Syracusans Appear in their Midst and Capture both
Men and Ships; End of Athens as a Naval Power. I-31

III. ROMANS AND CARTHAGINIANS.

Carthage a Place of Interest for Twenty Centuries; Romans and
Carthaginians in Collision; First Punic War; Rome Begins the
Construction of a Navy; A Stranded Carthaginian Vessel Serves as
a Model; They Encounter the Carthaginians at Mylœ; Defeat of the
Latter; Renewed Preparations of both Countries for the Mastery of
the Mediterranean: A Great Battle Fought, 260 B. C.; The Romans
Finally Victorious; They Land an Army in Africa and Sail for
Home; Encounter a “Sirocco” and Lose nearly all their Galleys on
the Rocks; The Succeeding Punic Wars; Rome in Her Greatness;
Antony and Octavius Appear Upon the Scene. I-36

IV. ACTIUM. B. C. 31.

The Decisive Battle of Philippi, B. C. 42; Antony and Octavius
Divide the Empire of the World Between Them; Trouble between
Antony and Octavius; Antony’s Dissipations; His Passion for
Egypt’s Queen; Octavius (the Future Augustus) Raises Fresh
Legions to Oppose Antony; The Latter Proclaims Cleopatra Queen
of Cyprus and Cilicia; The Republic Suspicious of Antony;
Octavius Declares War Against Cleopatra; Crosses the Ionian Sea
with his Fleet and Army, and Anchors at Actium, in Epirus;
Meeting of the Roman and Antony’s Fleets; Preparation for Battle;
A Grand Scene; Cleopatra’s Magnificent Galley; Discomfiture of
Antony’s Centre; Cleopatra Panic-stricken; Flight of the Egyptian
Contingent; Antony Follows Cleopatra; His Fleet Surrenders to
Octavius; The Land Forces Refuse to Believe in Antony’s
Defection; Despairing of His Return, they Accept Octavius’
Overtures and Pass Under his Banner; Octavius Master of the
World; Suicide of Antony and Cleopatra. I-48

V. LEPANTO. A. D. 1571.

A Momentous Battle that Decides the Sovereignty of Eastern
Europe; Naval Events Preceding Lepanto; Turkish Encroachments;
Pope Pius V Forms a League Against Them; Siege and Capture of
Famagousta by the Turks; Barbarities of Mustapha; Christian
Europe Aroused; Assembly of the Pontifical Fleet and Army; Don
John, of the Spanish Squadron, Placed in Chief Command; Resolves
to Seek and Attack the Ottoman Fleet; Encounters the Enemy in a
Gulf on the Albanian Coast; Character of Don John; Preparations
for Battle; Strength of his Fleet; A Magnificent Scene; The
Turkish Fleet; Ali Pasha in Command; The Battle Opens; Desperate
Fighting at all Points, Barberigo, of the Venetian Fleet, Badly
Wounded; Two Renowned Seamen Face to Face; Uluch Ali Captures the
Great “Capitana” of Malta; The Galley of Don John Encounters that
of Ali Pasha; They Collide; Terrible Hand-to-Hand Fighting;
Bravery of a Capuchin Friar; The Viceroy of Egypt Killed; Ali
Pasha Killed; His Galley Captured; Dismay among the Turks; Uluch
Ali Gives the Signal for Retreat; Terrible Loss of Life in the
Battle; Christian Slaves Liberated; The Turkish Fleet Almost
Annihilated; Alexander Farnese; Cervantes; Fierce Storm; Two Sons
of Ali Prisoners; Don John and Veniero; Division of the Spoils;
The _Te Deum_ at Messina; Joy Throughout Christendom; Colonna in
Rome; The Great Ottoman Standard; Decline of the Ottoman Empire. I-56

VI. THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. A. D. 1588.

Significance of the Term; Philip II; His Character; Determines to
Invade England; The Duke of Parma; Foresight of Elizabeth; The
Armada Ready; An Enormous Fleet; It Encounters a Tempest; Mutiny;
The Armada reaches the English Channel in July; Lord Howard,
Drake, Frobisher and Hawkins in Command of the English Fleet;
Tactics of the English; Capture of the “Santa Anna” by Drake; The
Spanish Reach Calais; Disappointment of the Spanish Commander;
Another Storm Sets In; Distress in the Spanish Fleet; The English
hang on its Rear and cut off Straggling Vessels; Shipwreck and
Disaster Overtake the Armada on the Scottish and Irish Coast; A
Fearful Loss of Life; Apparent Indifference of Philip II
Concerning the Armada’s Failure; The Beginning of Spain’s
Decline. I-85

VII. SOME NAVAL EVENTS OF ELIZABETH’S TIME, SUCCEEDING THE ARMADA.

The Armada’s Discomfiture Encourages England to Attack Spain;
Drake and Norris Unsuccessful at Lisbon; The Earl of Cumberland’s
Expedition; Meets with a Bloody Repulse; League of Elizabeth with
_Henri Quatre_, against the Duke of Parma; Sir Thomas Howard in
Command of an English Fleet to the Azores; Frobisher and
Raleigh’s Expedition of 1592; Prizes Taken on the Coast of Spain;
Frobisher Wounded; His Death; Richard Hawkins; Walter Raleigh’s
Expedition to Guiana; Expedition of Sir Francis Drake and Sir
John Hawkins; Repulsed at Porto Rico; Death of Hawkins; England
Anticipates Philip II in 1596 and Attacks Cadiz; The City Taken;
The English Attack and Capture Fayal; Attempt to Intercept
Spanish Merchantmen. I-103

VIII. NAVAL ACTIONS OF THE WAR BETWEEN ENGLAND AND HOLLAND. A. D.
1652-3.

The Dutch Supreme on the Sea; The Commonwealth and the United
Provinces; Negotiations for an Alliance Broken Off; An English
Commodore Fires into a Dutch Fleet; Van Tromp sent to Avenge this
Insult; Blake in Command of the English; The English Temporarily
Masters in the Channel; Great Naval Preparations in Holland; The
South of England at Van Tromp’s Mercy; Blake Collects his Fleet
to meet Van Tromp; A Storm Scatters Both; The Dutch People
Dissatisfied with Van Tromp; He Resigns; De Witt Assumes Chief
Command; Blake Meets the French Fleet under Vendome; He Captures
the Latter’s Fleet; Battle of North Foreland; De Witt Withdraws
at Nightfall; Van Tromp to the Front Again; Denmark Declares
Against the Commonwealth; The Dutch and English Meet in the
English Channel; Blake Beaten; Van Tromp Sails Up and Down the
Channel with a Broom at his Masthead; Battle off Portland; A
Decisive Engagement; Van Tromp Escorts Dutch Merchantmen into
Port; Discontent in the Dutch Fleet; Terrible Loss on Both Sides;
Blake Learns of a New Fleet Fitted out by Van Tromp in April;
They Meet Again; A Two Days’ Battle; Another Effort Two Months
Later; The Brave Van Tromp Killed; The Power of Holland Broken:
The States General Sues for Peace. I-112

IX. FRENCH AND DUTCH IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. A. D. 1676.

Revolt of Messina and Sicily; Louis XIV Sends Duquesne with a
Fleet to Sustain the Insurgents; Sketch of Duquesne; England
Makes Peace with Holland; Duquesne Repulses the Spanish Fleet
and Captures the Town of Agosta; Learns of De Ruyter’s Presence
in the Mediterranean; Meeting of the Hostile Fleets, Jan. 16,
1676; Splendid Manœuvres; The Advantage with the French; They
Meet Again, in Spring, Near Syracuse; Sharp and Terrible Firing;
De Ruyter Mortally Wounded; The Dutch Seek Shelter in Syracuse
Harbor; The Sicilian and French Fleets Encounter the Dutch and
Spanish Fleets Again, in May; Destruction of the Latter; Honors
to the Remains of De Ruyter; Recompensing Duquesne; His
Protestantism Distasteful to Louis XIV; Humiliates Genoa; Edict
of Nantes; His Death and Private Burial; Subsequent Honors to his
Memory. I-146

X. BATTLE OF CAPE LA HAGUE. A. D. 1692.

Louis XIV Prepares to Attack England, to Seat James II on the
Throne; Count de Tourville in Command of the French Fleet; Sketch
of his Life; He is Ordered to Sail from Brest; Bad Weather;
Arrogance of Pontchartrain, the Minister of Marine; Tourville
meets a Powerful English and Dutch Fleet; Bravery of the Soleil
Royal, the French Flag-ship; A Fog Ends the Fight; Louis XIV
Compliments Tourville on his Gallant Defence Against Such Great
Odds; Bestows the Title of Field Marshal on Him. I-157

XI. BENBOW, A. D. 1702.

Benbow a Favorite of William III; Queen Anne Declares War Against
France; Benbow Sent to the West Indies; He Falls in with a French
Fleet; A Vigorous Attack Commenced; Disobedience of his Captains;
He is Badly Wounded and Dies; The Captains Court-martialed;
Detailed Account of the Capture and Destruction of the French and
Spanish Fleets. I-166

XII. BYNG AND LA GALISSONIÈRE. A. D. 1756.

Sketch of Admiral Byng; War between England and France; Capture
of Minorca by the Latter; Byng sent to the Relief of the Island;
La Galissonière in Command of the French; Failure to Engage the
Latter’s Fleet, as Directed, by Byng; The English Driven Back to
Gibraltar; Byng Superseded Without a Hearing; Tried by
Court-martial and Sentenced to Death; The Sentence Considered
Unjustly Severe by Pitt; Wrangling among the Officers of the
Admiralty; Final Execution of the Sentence; Voltaire’s Sarcasm. I-174

XIII. SIR EDWARD HAWKE AND CONFLANS. A. D. 1759.

Sketch of Hawke; Succeeds the Ill-fated Admiral Byng; In Command
of a Blockading Squadron at Brest; Meets the French Fleet Under
Admiral Conflans Near Belleisle; The Latter Inferior in Strength
and Numbers; A Gale Arises During the Fight and Many Injured
French Vessels Wrecked; The Latter Fleet Almost Entirely Disabled
and Destroyed; Honors to Hawke. I-183

XIV. DE GRASSE AND RODNEY. A. D. 1782.

Sketch of De Grasse; Earliest Exploits; Aids Washington in the
Reduction of Yorktown; Recognition by Congress; Subsequent
Events; Encounters an English Fleet, Under Rodney; De Grasse
Loses Five Line-of Battle Ships; Exultation in England; De Grasse
a Prisoner; Assists in Bringing About a Treaty of Peace Between
the United States and England; Career of Rodney; Receives the
Title of Baron and a Pension. I-187

LORD HOWE AND THE FRENCH FLEET. JUNE 1, A. D. 1794.

The First of a Series of Memorable Engagements; Traits of Lord
Howe; Anecdotes; Watching the French Fleet; The Latter Put to
Sea; Skirmishing, May 28; A Great Battle, June 1; The French Open
Fire First; Concentrated and Deadly Firing on Both Sides; The
French Lose Six Line-of-Battle Ships; Howe’s Orders Not Obeyed by
Some of the Captains; Some French Ships that Had Struck Escape in
the Darkness; Anecdotes Concerning the Battle. I-197

BATTLE OF CAPE ST. VINCENT. A. D. 1797.

Location of Cape St. Vincent; Admiral Sir John Jervis in Command
of the English; Strength of His Fleet; Commodore Horatio Nelson;
Chased by a Spanish Fleet; The Latter in Command of Don Joseph de
Cordova; Feb. 14 a Disastrous Day for Spain; Surprised to See so
Large an English Fleet; The Battle Opens; Boarding the San
Nicolas; The Spanish Beaten at Every Point; The Battle over by 5
o’clock; Both Fleets Lay To to Repair Damages; Escape of the
Spanish During the Night; Damages Sustained; Description of the
Santissima Trinidada; The Cause of the Spanish Discomfiture;
Great Rejoicing in Lisbon; Honors and Pensions Awarded to the
English Commanders at Home; Admiral Cordova and His Captains. I-217

ENGLISH FLEET IN CANARY ISLANDS. A. D. 1797.

English Expedition to the Canary Islands; Cutting Out a Brig in
the Harbor of Santa Cruz; Attempt of the English to Capture the
Town of Santa Cruz; An Expedition Under Rear Admiral Nelson
Organized for the Purpose; The Garrison Apprised of Their Coming;
Nelson Shot in the Arm and Disabled; The English Agree not to
Molest the Canary Islands any Further if Allowed to Retire in
Good Order; The Spanish Governor Finally Accepts this Offer; A
Disastrous Defeat for Nelson. I-236

BATTLE OF CAMPERDOWN. 11TH OCTOBER, A. D. 1797.

Viscount Duncan; His Early Life; The Mutiny of the Nore; Causes
Leading to It; Disgraceful Practices of the English Admiralty of
this Period; War with Holland; The Dutch Fleet Off the Texel
under the Command of Vice-Admiral De Winter; The English
Immediately Set Out to Intercept them; The Battle Opens about
Noon of October 11th; Hard Fighting; The English Victorious;
Accurate Firing of the Hollanders; The Losses Heavy on both
Sides; Actual Strength of both Fleets; Duncan’s Admirable Plan of
Attack; Nelson’s Memorandum. I-243

BATTLE OF THE NILE, 1ST AUGUST, 1798.

Aboukir Bay; Its History; Learning that a Strong French Fleet Had
Left Toulon, Nelson Seeks Them, He Finds the Fleet in Aboukir
Bay; He Comes Upon Them at 6 o’clock in the Evening and Resolves
to Attack Them at Once; A Terrible Battle; Misunderstanding of
the French Admiral’s Instructions; Many Acts of Individual
Heroism; Death of the French Admiral; Villeneuve Escapes with
Four French Vessels; The Battle Over by 11 o’clock; The Most
Disastrous Engagement the French Navy Ever Fought; Detailed
Account of the Great Fight; The French Ship L’Orient Blown Up
with a Terrific Explosion; Summary of the Losses on both sides;
Masterly Tactics of Nelson; Gallant Behavior of the French; The
Loss of This Battle of Immense Consequences to the Latter; Nelson
Sails for Naples; Honors to Him Everywhere; His Official Report;
French Officers of High Rank Killed; Anecdotes on Board the
Vanguard on the Voyage to Naples. I-259

LEANDER AND GÉNÉREUX. 16TH AUG., A. D. 1798.

Contest Between Single Ships; The Leander a Bearer of Dispatches
from Nelson; Encounters the French Frigate Généreux; Attempts to
Avoid the Latter; A Close and Bloody Fight of Six Hours; The
Leander Surrenders; Captain Le Joille; Plundering the English
Officers; Captain Thompson; Another Striking Incident; A French
Cutter in Alexandria Harbor Abandoned on Being Attacked by Two
English Frigates; The Officers and Crew of the Former, on
Reaching the Shore, Massacred by the Arabs; General Carmin and
Captain Vallette Among the Slain; Dispatches from Bonaparte
Secured by the Arabs. I-290

ACTION BETWEEN THE AMBUSCADE AND BAYONNAISE A. D. 1798.

Decisive Single Ship Actions; A Fruitful Source of Discussion;
The British Account of It; History and Description of the
Ambuscade; Unexpected Meeting with the Bayonnaise; The English
Vessel the Fastest Sailer; A Battle Takes Place; Detailed Account
of the Fight; The English Frigate Surrenders to the French
Corvette; Causes of Discontent on Board the Former; Great
Rejoicing in France; Promotion of the French Captain. I-297

SIR SIDNEY SMITH AND HIS SEAMEN AT ACRE. A. D. 1799.

Minister to the Sublime Porte; Notified of Bonaparte’s Presence
in Syria; The Latter Lays Siege to Acre; He Repairs Thither with
a Fleet and Assists the Turks in Defending the Place; Admiral
Perée, of the French Navy, Puts in an Appearance; Desperate
Attempts to Storm the Place; Strength of Napoleon’s Army on
Entering Syria; Kleber’s Grenadiers; Repeated and Desperate
Assaults of the French; Unsuccessful Each Time; The Siege
Abandoned After Sixty-one Days; Importance of the Place as Viewed
by Napoleon. I-304

FOUDROYANT AND CONSORTS IN ACTION WITH THE GUILLAUME TELL. A. D. 1800.

Preliminary History; Rear Admiral Denis Décrès; Sketch of this
Remarkable Man; His Tragic End; Engagement of the Guillaume Tell
with the English Fleet Near Malta; Detailed Account of the Fight;
Entirely Dismasted and Surrounded by English Vessels, the
Guillaume Tell at last Surrenders; A More Heroic Defence Not To
Be Found in the Record of Naval Actions; Taken to England, the
Guillaume Tell is Refitted for the English Service, Under the
Name of Malta; A Splendid Ship. I-312

NAVAL OPERATIONS AT ABOUKIR BAY AND CAPTURE OF ALEXANDRIA. A. D. 1801.

Expulsion of the French Determined Upon; An English Fleet and
Army Sent Thither Under Command of Lord Keith and Sir Ralph
Abercrombie; The French Under Command of General Friant; The
Former Land Troops Under a Galling Fire from Fort Aboukir and the
Sand Hills; Sir Sidney Smith in Command of the Marines; A Heavy
Battle Fought March 21; The French Forced to Retire; General
Abercrombie Mortally Wounded; The French, Shut in at Alexandria,
Finally Capitulate; Renewed Interest in this Campaign on Account
of Recent Events; Points of Similarity. I-318

THE CUTTING OUT OF THE CHEVRETTE. JULY, A. D. 1801.

An Example of a “Cutting-out Expedition”; The Combined French and
Spanish Fleets at Anchor in Brest; The English Watching Them; The
Chevrette at Anchor in Camaret Bay; The English Resolve to Cut
Her Out; An Expedition Starts Out at Night, in Small Boats; They
Board and Capture Her, in Spite of the Desperate Resistance of
the French; Details of the Fight; The Losses on Both Sides. I-322

BOAT ATTACK UPON THE FRENCH FLOTILLA AT BOULOGNE. A. D. 1801.

Another Boat Attack by the English, with Less Favorable Results;
Lord Nelson in Command; Darkness and the Tides Against Them; They
“Catch a Tartar”; The Affair a Triumph for the French. I-328

COPENHAGEN. A. D. 1801.

Preliminary History; An English Fleet Under Sir Hyde Parker and
Lord Nelson Ordered to the Cattegat; A Commissioner Empowered to
Offer Peace or War Accompanies Them; Denmark Repels Their
Insulting _Ultimatum_ and Prepares for Defence; Strength of the
English Fleet; They Attempt to Force the Passage of the Sound,
and the Battle Begins; Early Incidents; Difficulties of the Large
English Vessels in Entering the Shallow Waters; Strength of the
Danish Fleet and Shore Batteries; Sir Hyde Parker Makes Signal to
Withdraw; Lord Nelson Disobeys and Keeps up the Fight; The Danish
Adjutant General Finally Appears and an Armistice is Agreed Upon;
A Characteristic Action of Lord Nelson; Death of the Emperor Paul,
of Russia; Second Attack on Copenhagen, 1807; Observations
Concerning England’s Conduct; A Powerful English Fleet Appears in
the Sound; The Crown Prince Rejects England’s Humiliating
Proposals; Copenhagen Bombarded and Set on Fire; Final Surrender;
Plunder by the English. I-331

TRAFALGAR. OCTOBER 21ST, A. D. 1805.

Napoleon’s Grand Schemes; Nelson in Search of the French Fleet;
His Extensive Cruise; Napoleon’s Orders to His Admiral,
Villeneuve; The English Discover the French and Spanish Fleets at
Cadiz; Nelson’s Order of Battle a Master-piece of Naval Strategy;
Strength of the English Fleet; Villeneuve Ordered to Sea;
Strength of the Combined French and Spanish Fleets; The Hostile
Forces Meet at Cape Trafalgar; The Battle; One of the Most
Destructive Naval Engagements Ever Fought; The French Account of
It; The Allied Fleet Almost Annihilated; Nelson Mortally Wounded;
Further Particulars of the Battle; Estimate of Nelson’s
Character; Honors to His Memory. I-352

LORD EXMOUTH AT ALGIERS. A.D. 1816.

Biographical Sketch of Lord Exmouth; Atrocities of the Algerines
Prompt the English to Send a Fleet, Under Lord Exmouth, Against
Them; A Dutch Fleet Joins Them at Gibraltar; Strength of the
Combined Fleet; Fruitless Negotiations with the Algerines;
Strength of their Fortifications; The Allied Fleets Open Fire on
the Forts and City; A Tremendous Cannonade; The Dey Comes to
Terms; Capture of the Place by the French, Fourteen Years Later. I-397

NAVARINO. A. D. 1827.

Assembly of the Allied English, French and Russian Fleets in the
Mediterranean; Their Object; An Egyptian Fleet, with Troops,
enters Navarino Harbor; History and Geographical Position of the
Latter; Strength of the Opposing Fleets; Treachery of the
Egyptians; The Battle Opens; Desperate Fighting; Bad Gunnery of
the Turks; Destruction of Their Fleet. I-407

SINOPE. A. D. 1853.

History of Sinope; An Abuse of Superior Force on the Part of the
Russians; They Encounter the Turkish Fleet in Sinope Harbor and
Demand the Latter’s Surrender; They Decline and the Battle Opens
Furiously; The Turkish Fleet Totally Destroyed and That of the
Russians rendered Comparatively Useless; Appearance of the Town
of Sinope. I-417

LISSA. A. D. 1866.

Position of the Island of Lissa; Its History; Attacked and Taken
by the Italians; The Austrians Shortly After Come to its Relief;
A Great Naval Battle Takes Place; Strength of the Opposing
Fleets; The Ironclads That Took Part; Bad Management of the
Italians Under Admiral Persano; They are Badly Beaten; Sketch of
the Italian Admiral; His Court-Martial; William Baron Tegethoff,
the Austrian Commander. I-420

SOME NAVAL ACTIONS BETWEEN BRAZIL, THE ARGENTINE CONFEDERATION AND
PARAGUAY. A. D. 1865-68.

Origin of the Long and Deadly Struggle; The Brazilian Fleet
Starts Out on a Cruise; Lopez, Dictator of Paraguay, Determines
to Capture this Fleet; His Preparations; The Hostile Fleets
Encounter each other; Details of the Fight; Bad Management on
both sides; The Paraguayans Forced to Retire; Another Battle in
March, 1866, on the Parana River; Full Account of the Desultory
Fighting; The Paraguayans Driven Out of their Earthworks; Two
Unsuccessful Attacks, in 1868, on the Brazilian Monitors lying
off Tayi; Interesting Account of one of these Attacks. I-429

THE CAPTURE OF THE HUASCAR. OCTOBER 8TH, A. D. 1879.

Description of the Huascar; Her Earlier Exploits; Strength of the
Chilian Squadron; The Latter Seek the Huascar; The Enemies
Recognize each other; The Battle Begins at Long Range; Full
Details of this Spirited Engagement; Terrible Loss of Life on
Board the Huascar; She Finally Surrenders; Condition of the
Chilian Fleet. I-445

BOMBARDMENT OF ALEXANDRIA. JULY 11TH, A. D. 1882.

Political Complications; Arabi Pasha; Important Events Preceding
the Bombardment; England Demands that Work on the Fortifications
Cease; Arabi Promises to Desist, but Renews the Work Secretly; A
Powerful English Fleet Opens Fire on the Defences; Silenced by
the Fleet and Abandoned; Alexandria Set on Fire and Pillaged;
Sailors and Marines from the American and German Fleets Landed to
Protect the Consulates; Injury Sustained by the English Fleet. I-458

THE WAR BETWEEN CHINA AND JAPAN.

The Opening of Japan to Foreign Nations; Japanese Geography and
History; Early Explorers; Revolution of 1617; First American
Efforts at Intercourse; Commander Glynn’s Attempt; Successful
Expedition of Commodore Perry in 1852; First Treaty Signed;
Subsequent Development of Japan; Outbreak of War with China;
Sinking of the Kow-Shing; Historic Hostility between the Two
Nations; Disputes over Korea; The Battle of the Yalu, September
17th, 1894; Details of the Fight; Results of this Battle;
Importance to Naval Experts; Conclusions Derived; Succeeding
Events of the War; Capture of Port Arthur; The Japanese Emperor;
New Treaty with the United States. I-467

List of Illustrations.

PAGE

0. RETURN OF THE GREEKS FROM SALAMIS _Frontispiece_
1. NAVAL BATTLE, EIGHTEENTH CENTURY I-20
2. A NORSE GALLEY I-35
3. CAPTURE OF THE CARTHAGINIAN FLEET BY THE ROMANS I-36
4. ROMAN GALLEY I-47
5. BATTLE OF ACTIUM I-53
6. THE PTOLEMY PHILOPATER I-55
7. BATTLE OF LEPANTO I-68
8. THE ENGLISH FLEET FOLLOWING THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA I-85
9. A SPANISH GALEASS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY I-102
10. SIR FRANCIS DRAKE IN CENTRAL AMERICA I-103
11. HENRY GRACE DEDIEU I-111
12. A CARAVEL OF THE TIME OF COLUMBUS I-156
13. NORMAN SHIP OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY I-173
14. VENETIAN GALLEY OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY I-182
15. BUCENTORO I-186
16. LE SOLEIL ROYAL I-195
17. HOWE’S ACTION OF JUNE 1, 1794 I-196
18. BATTLE OF CAPE ST. VINCENT I-229
19. ENGLISH FLEET OFF TENERIFFE I-244
20. BATTLE OF THE NILE I-259
21. NELSON WOUNDED AT TENERIFFE I-270
21a. DUTCH MAN-OF-WAR, 17TH CENTURY. I-270
22. CAPTURE OF ADMIRAL NELSON’S DISPATCHES I-293
23. SIEGE OF ACRE, 1799 I-308
24. CAPTURE OF ALEXANDRIA, 1801 I-318
25. BATTLE OF COPENHAGEN I-341
26. NELSON’S VICTORY AT TRAFALGAR I-356
27. SINOPE, 1853 I-417
28. BATTLE OF LISSA, 1866 I-420
29. FERDINAND MAX RAMMING THE RE D’ITALIA I-424
30. THE DREADNAUGHT I-444
31. APPEARANCE OF THE HUASCAR AFTER CAPTURE I-456
32. STEEL TORPEDO BOAT AND POLE I-457
33. BOMBARDMENT OF ALEXANDRIA I-465
34. THE ALEXANDRA I-466
35. BATTLE OF THE YALU I-482

NAVAL BATTLES,
ANCIENT AND MODERN

INTRODUCTION.

The Ancients were full of horror of the mysterious Great Sea, which
they deified; believing that man no longer belonged to himself when
once embarked, but was liable to be sacrificed at any time to the anger
of the Great Sea god; in which case no exertions of his own could be of
any avail.

This belief was not calculated to make seamen of ability. Even
Homer, who certainly was a great traveler, or voyager, and who had
experience of many peoples, gives us but a poor idea of the progress of
navigation, especially in the blind gropings and shipwrecks of Ulysses,
which he appears to have thought the most natural things to occur.

A recent writer says, “Men had been slow to establish completely
their dominion over the sea. They learned very early to build ships.
They availed themselves very early of the surprising power which the
helm exerts over the movements of a ship; but, during many ages, they
found no surer guidance than that which the position of the sun and
of the stars afforded. When clouds intervened to deprive them of this
uncertain direction, they were helpless. They were thus obliged to
keep the land in view, and content themselves with creeping timidly
along the coasts. But at length there was discovered a stone which
the wise Creator had endowed with strange properties. It was observed
that a needle which had been brought in contact with that stone ever
afterwards pointed steadfastly to the north. Men saw that with a needle
thus influenced they could guide themselves at sea as surely as on
land. The Mariner’s compass loosed the bond which held sailors to the
coast, and gave them liberty to push out into the sea.”

As regards early attempts at navigation, we must go back, for certain
information, to the Egyptians. The expedition of the Argonauts, if
not a fable, was an attempt at navigation by simple boatmen, who, in
the infancy of the art, drew their little craft safely on shore every
night of their coasting voyages. We learn from the Greek writers
themselves, that that nation was in ignorance of navigation compared
with the Phenicians, and the latter certainly acquired the art from the
Egyptians.

We know that naval battles, that is, battles between bodies of men
in ships, took place thousands of years before the Christian era. On
the walls of very ancient Egyptian tombs are depicted such events,
apparently accompanied with much slaughter.

History positively mentions prisoners, under the name of _Tokhari_, who
were vanquished by the Egyptians in a naval battle fought by Rameses
III, in the fifteenth century before our era. These _Tokhari_ were
thought to be Kelts, and to come from the West. According to some they
were navigators who had inherited their skill from their ancestors of
the lost Continent, Atlantis.

The Phenicians have often been popularly held to have been the first
navigators upon the high seas; but the Carians, who preceded the
Pelasgi in the Greek islands, undoubtedly antedated the Phenicians
in the control of the sea and extended voyages. It is true that when
the Phenicians did begin, they far exceeded their predecessors. Sidon
dates from 1837 before Christ, and soon after this date she had
an extensive commerce, and made long voyages, some even beyond the
Mediterranean.

[Illustration:

LINE OF BATTLE.

HOSTILE FRIGATES GRAPPLING.

NAVAL BATTLE, EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.]

To return to the Egyptians. Sesostris had immense fleets 1437 years
before Christ, and navigated not only the Mediterranean, but the Red
Sea. The Egyptians had invaded, by means of veritable fleets, the
country of the Pelasgi. Some of these ancient Egyptian ships were very
large. Diodorus mentions one of cedar, built by Sesostris, which was
280 cubits (420 to 478 feet) long.

One built by Ptolemy was 478 feet long, and carried 400 sailors, 4000
rowers, and 3000 soldiers. Many other huge vessels are mentioned. A
bas-relief at Thebes represents a naval victory gained by the Egyptians
over some Indian nation, in the Red Sea, or the Persian Gulf, probably
1400 years before Christ.

The Egyptian fleet is in a crescent, and seems to be endeavoring to
surround the Indian fleet, which, with oars boarded and sails furled,
is calmly awaiting the approach of its antagonist. A lion’s head, of
some metal, at the prow of each Egyptian galley, shows that ramming was
then resorted to. These Egyptian men-of-war were manned by soldiers in
helmets, and armed as those of the land forces.

The length of these vessels is conjectured to have been about 120
feet, and the breadth 16 feet. They had high raised poops and
forecastles, filled with archers and slingers, while the rest of the
fighting men were armed with pikes, javelins, and pole-axes, of most
murderous appearance, to be used in boarding. Wooden bulwarks, rising
considerably above the main-deck, protected the rowers. Some of the
combatants had bronze coats of mail, in addition to helmets of the
same, and some carried huge shields, covered, apparently, with tough
bull’s hide. These vessels had masts, with a large yard, and a huge
square sail. They are said to have been built of acacia, so durable
a wood that vessels built of it have lasted a century or more. They
appear to have had but one rank of oars; although two or three tiers
soon became common. None of the ancient Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek or
Roman monuments represent galleys with more than two tiers of oars,
except one Roman painting that gives one with three. Yet quinqueremes
are spoken of as very common. It is not probable that more than three
tiers were used; as seamen have never been able to explain how the
greater number of tiers could have been worked; and they have come
to the conclusion that scholars have been mistaken, and that the
term _quinquereme_, or five ranks of oars, as translated, meant the
arrangement of the oars, or of the men at them, and not the ranks, one
above another, as usually understood.

Much learning and controversy has been expended upon this subject, and
many essays written, and models and diagrams made, to clear up the
matter, without satisfying practical seamen.

The Roman galleys with three rows of oars had the row ports in tiers.
These ports were either round or oval, and were called _columbaria_,
from their resemblance to the arrangement of a dove-cote. The lower
oars could be taken in, in bad weather, and the ports closed.

The “long ships” or galleys of the ancient Mediterranean maritime
nations--which were so called in opposition to the short, high and
bulky merchant ships--carried square or triangular sails, often
colored. The “long ships” themselves were painted in gay colors,
carried flags and banners at different points, and images upon their
prows, which were sacred to the tutelary divinities of their country.
The “long ships” could make with their oars, judging from descriptions
of their voyages, perhaps a hundred miles in a day of twelve hours.
In an emergency they could go much faster, for a short time. It is
reliably stated that it took a single-decked galley, 130 feet long,
with 52 oars, a fourth of an hour to describe a full circle in turning.

Carthage was founded by the Phenicians, 1137 years before our era;
and not very long after the Carthaginians colonized Marseilles. Hanno
accomplished his _periplus_, or great voyage round Africa, 800 years B.
C., showing immense advance in nautical ability, in which the Greeks
were again left far behind. Still later, the Carthaginians discovered
the route to the British Islands, and traded there--especially in
Cornish tin--while 330 years B. C. _Ultima Thule_, or Iceland, was
discovered by the Marseillais Pitheas. Thus Carthage and her colonies
not only freely navigated the Atlantic, but some have thought that they
actually reached northern America.

Four hundred and eighty years before the Christian era the Grecian
fleet defeated that of the Persians, at Salamis; and the next year
another naval battle, that of Mycale (which was fought on the same
day as that of Platæa on land), completely discomfited the Persian
invaders, and the Greeks then became the aggressors.

Herodotus, who wrote about 450 years B. C., gives accounts of many
naval actions, and even describes several different kinds of fighting
vessels. He mentions the prophecy of the oracle at Delphi, when
“wooden walls” were declared to be the great defence against Xerxes’
huge force--meaning the fleet--just as the “wooden walls of England”
were spoken of, up to the time of ironclads. Herodotus says the Greek
fleet at the battle of Artemisium, which was fought at the same time
as Thermopylæ, consisted of 271 ships, which, by their very skillful
handling, defeated the much larger Persian armament, which latter, from
its very numbers, was unwieldy.

At Artemisium, the Greeks “brought the sterns of their ships together
in a small compass, and turned their prows towards the enemy.” And,
although largely outnumbered, fought through the day, and captured
thirty of the enemy’s ships. This manner of manœuvring was possible,
from the use of oars; and they never fought except in calm weather.

After this, the Greeks, under Alexander, renewed their energies, and
his fleet, under the command of Nearchus, explored the coast of India
and the Persian Gulf. His fleets principally moved by the oar, although
sails were sometimes used by them.

Among other well authenticated naval events of early times, was the
defeat of the Carthaginian fleet, by Regulus, in the first Punic war,
335 years B. C. This victory, gained at sea, was the more creditable to
the Romans, as they were not naturally a sea-going race, as the nations
to the south and east of the Mediterranean were.

When they had rendered these nations tributary, they availed themselves
of their nautical knowledge; just as the Austrians of to-day avail
themselves of their nautical population upon the Adriatic coast, or the
Turks of their Greek subjects, who are sailors.

Of naval battles which exercised any marked influence upon public
events, or changed dynasties, or the fate of nations, the first of
which we have a full and definite description is the battle of Actium.
But before proceeding to describe that most important and memorable
engagement, we may look at two or three earlier sea fights which had
great results, some details of which have come down to us.

NAVAL BATTLES,
ANCIENT AND MODERN.

SALAMIS. B. C. 480.

This great sea fight took place at the above date, between the fleet of
Xerxes and that of the allied Greeks.

Salamis is an island in the Gulf of Ægina, ten miles west of Athens.
Its modern name is Kolouri. It is of about thirty square miles surface;
mountainous, wooded, and very irregular in shape.

It was in the channel between it and the main land that the great
battle was fought.

Xerxes, in the flush of youth, wielding immense power, and having
boundless resources in men and money, determined to revenge upon the
Greeks the defeat of the Persians, so many of whom had fallen, ten
years before, at Marathon. After years of preparation, using all his
resources and enlisting tributary powers, he marched northward, in
all the pomp and circumstance of war, and laid a bridge of boats at
the Hellespont, over which it took seven days for his army to pass.
His fleet consisted of over 1200 fighting vessels and transports, and
carried 240,000 men.

Previous to the naval battle of which we are about to speak, he
lost four hundred of his galleys in a violent storm; but still his
fleet was immensely superior in number to that of the Greeks, who had
strained every nerve to get together the navies of their independent
States. Such leaders as Aristides and Themistocles formed a host in
themselves, while the independent Greeks were, man for man and ship for
ship, superior to the Persians and their allies. Of the Greek fleet
the Athenians composed the right wing; the Spartans the left, opposed
respectively to the Phenicians and the Ionians; while the Æginetans and
Corinthians, with others, formed the Greek reserve.

The day of the battle was a remarkably fair one, and we are told that,
as the sun rose, the Persians, with one accord (both on sea and land,
for there was a famous land battle as well on that day), prostrated
themselves in worship of the orb of day. This was one of the oldest
and greatest forms of worship ever known to man, and it still exists
among the Parsees. It must have been a grand sight; for 240,000 men, in
a thousand ships, and an immense force on the neighboring land, bowed
down at once, in adoration.

The Greeks, with the “canniness” which distinguished them in their
dealings with both gods and men, sacrificed to all the gods, and
especially to Zeus, or Jupiter, and to Poseidon, or Neptune.

Everything was ready for the contest on both sides. Arms, offensive
and defensive, were prepared. They were much the same as had been used
for ages, by the Egyptians and others. Grappling irons were placed
ready to fasten contending ships together; gangways or planks were
arranged to afford sure footing to the boarders, while heavy weights
were ready, triced up to the long yards, to be dropped upon the enemy’s
deck, crushing his rowers, and perhaps sinking the vessel. Catapults
and balistæ (the first throwing large darts and javelins, the second
immense rocks) were placed in order, like great guns of modern times.
Archers and slingers occupied the poops and forecastles; while, as
additional means of offence, the Rhodians carried long spars, fixed
obliquely to the prows of their galleys, and reaching beyond their
beaks, from which were suspended, by chains, large kettles, filled
with live coals and combustibles. A chain at the bottom capsized these
on the decks of the enemy, often setting them on fire. Greek fire,
inextinguishable by water, is supposed, by many, to have been used thus
early; while fire ships were certainly often employed.

Just as the Greeks had concluded their religious ceremonies, one of
their triremes, which had been sent in advance to reconnoitre the
Persian fleet, was seen returning, hotly pursued by the enemy.

An Athenian trireme, commanded by Ameinas, the brother of the poet
Æschylus, dashed forward to her assistance. Upon this Eurybiades, the
Greek admiral, seeing that everything was ready, gave the signal for
general attack, which was the display of a brightly burnished brazen
shield above his vessel. (This, and many other details may be found in
Herodotus, but space prevents their insertion here.)

As soon as the shield was displayed the Grecian trumpets sounded the
advance, which was made amid great enthusiasm, the mixed fleets, or
contingents, from every state and city, vying with each other as to who
should be first to strike the enemy. The right wing dashed forward,
followed by the whole line, all sweeping down upon the Persians, or
Barbarians, as the Greeks called them.

On this occasion the Greeks had a good cause, and were fighting to
save their country and its liberties. Undaunted by the numbers of the
opposing fleet, they bent to their long oars and came down in fine
style. The Athenians became engaged first, then the Æginetans, and then
the battle became general. The Greeks had the advantage of being in
rapid motion when they struck the Persian fleet, most of which had not,
at that critical moment, gathered way. The great effect of a mass in
motion is exemplified in the act of a river steamboat running at speed
into a wharf; the sharp, frail vessel is seldom much damaged, while
cutting deep into a mass of timber, iron and stone. Many of the Persian
vessels were sunk at once, and a great gap thereby made in their line.
This was filled from their immense reserve, but not until after great
panic and confusion, which contributed to the success of the Greeks.
The Persian Admiral commanding the left wing, seeing that it was
necessary to act promptly in order to effectually succor his people,
bore down at full speed upon the flagship of Themistocles, intending to
board her. A desperate hand-to-hand struggle ensued, and the vessel of
Themistocles was soon in a terrible strait; but many Athenian galleys
hastened to his rescue, and the large and magnificent Persian galley
was sunk by repeated blows from the sharp beaks of the Greeks, while
Ariamenes, the Admiral, was previously slain and thrown overboard.
At this same moment the son of the great Darius, revered by all the
Asiatics, fell, pierced by a javelin, at which sight the Persians set
up a melancholy wailing cry, which the Greeks responded to with shouts
of triumph and derision.

Still, the Persians, strong in numbers, renewed and maintained the
battle with great fury; but the Athenian fleet cut through the
Phenician line, and then, pulling strong with starboard and backing
port oars, turned short round and fell upon the Persian left flank and
rear.

A universal panic now seized the Asiatics; and in spite of numbers,
they broke and fled in disorder--all, that is, except the Dorians, who,
led by their brave queen in person, fought for their new ally with
desperate valor, in the vain hope of restoring order where all order
was lost. The Dorian queen, Artemisia, at last forced to the conviction
that the fugitives were not to be rallied, and seeing the waters
covered with wreck, and strewn with the floating corpses of her friends
and allies, reluctantly gave the signal for retreat.

She was making off in her own galley, when she found herself closely
pursued by a Greek vessel, and, to divert his pursuit, as well as to
punish one who had behaved badly, she ran her galley full speed into
that of a Lycian commander, who had behaved in a cowardly manner during
the engagement. The Lycian sank instantly, and the Greek, upon seeing
this action, supposed that Artemisia’s galley was a friend, and at once
relinquished pursuit; so that this brave woman and able naval commander
succeeded in making her escape.

Ten thousand drachmas had been offered for her capture, and this,
of course, was lost. Ameinas, who had pursued her, was afterwards
named, by general suffrage, one of the “three valiants” who had most
distinguished themselves in the hard fought battle against such odds.
Polycritus and Eumenes were the two others.

The victory being complete at sea, Aristides, at the head of a large
body of Athenians, landed at a point where many of the Persians were.
The latter were divided from the main body of Xerxes’ army by a sheet
of water, and were slain, almost to a man, by the Greeks, under the
very eyes of the Persian monarch and his main army, who could not reach
them to afford assistance.

The discomfiture of his fleet rendered Xerxes powerless for the time;
and, recognizing the extent of the misfortune which had befallen him,
the mighty lord of so many nations, so many tributaries, and so many
slaves, rent his robes, and burst into a flood of tears.

Thus ended the great battle of Salamis, which decided the fate of
Greece.

The forces of the several independent Greek States returned to their
homes, where their arrival was celebrated with great rejoicing, and
sacrifices to the gods.

Xerxes, as soon as he realized the extent of the disaster which had
befallen him, resolved at once to return with all possible expedition
into Asia. His chief counsellor in vain advised him not to be downcast
by the defeat of his fleet: “that he had come to fight against the
Greeks, not with rafts of wood, but with soldiers and horses.” In spite
of this, Xerxes sent the remnant of his fleet to the harbors of Asia
Minor, and after a march of forty-five days, amidst great hardship and
privation, arrived at the Hellespont with his army. Famine, pestilence
and battle had reduced his army from a million or more to about 300,000.

The victory at Salamis terminated the second act of the great Persian
expedition. The third, in the following year, was the conclusive land
battle of Platæa, and subsequent operations. These secured not only the
freedom of Greece and of adjoining European States, but the freedom and
independence of the Asiatic Greeks, and their undisturbed possession of
the Asiatic coast--an inestimable prize to the victors.

II.

NAVAL BATTLE AT SYRACUSE. B. C. 415.

This battle was not only remarkable for its desperate fighting and
bloody character, but for the fact that the complete and overwhelming
defeat of the Athenians was the termination of their existence as a
naval power.

An Athenian fleet had been despatched to the assistance of the small
Greek Republic of Ægesta, near the western end of Sicily, then
threatened by Syracuse.

The Athenian fleet numbered one hundred and thirty-four triremes,
25,000 seamen and soldiers, beside transports with 6000 spearmen and a
proportionate force of archers and slingers. This considerable armament
was designed to coöperate not only in the reduction of Syracuse, the
implacable enemy of the Ægestans, but also to endeavor to subdue the
whole of the large, rich and beautiful island of Sicily, at that time
the granary and vineyard of the Mediterranean.

The Greek fleet drew near its destination in fine order, and approached
and entered Syracuse with trumpets sounding and flags displayed, while
the soldiers and sailors, accustomed to a long succession of victories,
and regarding defeat as impossible, rent the air with glad shouts.

Syracuse is a large and perfect harbor; completely landlocked, and
with a narrow entrance. The Sicilians, entirely unprepared to meet
the veteran host thus suddenly precipitated upon them, looked upon
these demonstrations with gloomy forebodings. Fortunately for their
independence, they had wise and brave leaders, while the commander
of the great Athenian fleet was wanting in decision of character and
in the ability to combine his forces and move quickly; a necessity
in such an enterprise as his. It therefore happened that the tables
were turned, and the proud invaders were eventually blockaded in the
harbor of Syracuse, the people obstructing the narrow entrance so as
to prevent escape, while the country swarmed with the levies raised to
resist the invaders by land, and to cut them off from all supplies.

In the meantime the Greeks had seized a spot on the shores of the
harbor, built a dock yard, and constructed a fortified camp.

Such being the state of affairs, a prompt and energetic movement on the
part of the Athenians became necessary to save them from starvation.
Nikias, their commander-in-chief, entrusted the fleet to Demosthenes,
Menander, and Euthydemus, and prepared to fight a decisive battle.

Taught by recent partial encounters that the beaks of the Syracusan
triremes were more powerful and destructive than those of his own
vessels, he instructed his captains to avoid ramming as much as
possible, and to attack by boarding. His ships were provided with
plenty of grappling irons, so that the Sicilians could be secured as
soon as they rammed the Greek vessels, when a mass of veteran Greeks
was to be thrown on board, and the islanders overcome in a hand-to-hand
fight.

When all was ready the fleet of the Athenian triremes, reduced to one
hundred and ten in number, but fully manned, moved in three grand
divisions. Demosthenes commanded the van division, and made directly
for the mouth of the harbor, toward which the Syracusan fleet, only
seventy-five in number, was also promptly converging.

The Athenians were cutting away and removing the obstructions at
the narrow entrance, when their enemy came down rapidly, and forced
them to desist from their labors, and form line of battle. This they
did hurriedly, and as well as the narrow limits would permit. They
were soon furiously attacked, on both wings at once, by Licanus and
Agatharcus, who had moved down close to the shore, the one on the
right and the other on the left hand of the harbor. The Syracusans, by
this manœuvre, outflanked the Greeks, who, their flanks being turned,
were necessarily driven in upon their centre, which point was at this
critical moment vigorously attacked by the Corinthians, the faithful
allies of the Syracusans. The Corinthian squadron, led by Python, had
dashed down the middle of the harbor, and attacked, with loud shouts,
as if assured of victory. Great confusion now ensued among the Athenian
vessels, caught at a great disadvantage, and in each other’s way. Many
of their triremes were at once stove and sunk, and those which remained
afloat were so hemmed in by enemies that they could not use their oars.
The strong point of the Athenian fleet had consisted in its ability to
manœuvre, and they were here deprived of that advantage.

Hundreds of their drowning comrades were calling for assistance, while
their countrymen on shore, belonging to the army, witnessed their
position with despair, being unable to come to the rescue. Still,
the Athenians fought as became their old renown. They often beat off
the enemy by sheer force of arms, but without avail. The Syracusans
had covered their forecastles with raw bulls’ hides, so that the
grappling irons would not hold for boarding; but the Greeks watched
for the moment of contact, and before they could recoil, leaped boldly
on board the enemy’s triremes, sword in hand. They succeeded thus in
capturing some Sicilian vessels; but their own loss was frightful,
and, after some hours of most sanguinary contest, Demosthenes, seeing
that a continuance of it would annihilate his force, took advantage of
a temporary break in the enemy’s line to give the signal for retreat.
This was at once begun; at first in good order, but the Syracusans
pressing vigorously upon the Athenian rear, soon converted it into a
disorderly flight, each trying to secure his own safety.

In this condition the Greeks reached the fortified docks, which they
had built during their long stay, the entrance to which was securely
guarded by merchant ships, which had huge rocks triced up, called
“dolphins,” of sufficient size to sink any vessel upon which they might
be dropped. Here the pursuit ended, and the defeated and harassed
Athenians hastened to their fortified camp, where their land forces,
with loud lamentations, deplored the event of the naval battle, which
they had fondly hoped would have set them all at liberty.

The urgent question now was as to the preservation of both forces--and
that alone.

That same night Demosthenes proposed that they should man their
remaining triremes, reduced to sixty in number, and try again to force
a way out of the harbor; alleging that they were still stronger than
the enemy, who had also lost a number of ships. Nikias gave consent;
but when the sailors were ordered to embark once more, they mutinied
and flatly refused to do so; saying that their numbers were too much
reduced by battle, sickness, and bad food, and that there were no
seamen of experience left to take the helm, or rowers in sufficient
numbers for the benches. They also declared that the last had been a
soldiers’ battle, and that such were better fought on land. They then
set fire to the dock-yard and the fleet, and the Syracusan forces
appearing, in the midst of this mutiny, captured both men and ships.
Her fleet being thus totally destroyed, Athens never recovered from the
disaster, and ceased from that day to be a naval power.

The subsequent events in this connection, though interesting and
instructive, do not belong to naval history.

[Illustration: A NORSE GALLEY.]

III.

ROMANS AND CARTHAGINIANS.

Carthage, the Phenician colony in Africa, which became so famous and
powerful, was very near the site of the modern city of Tunis. It has
been a point of interest for twenty centuries. Long after the Phenician
sway had passed away, and the Arab and Saracen had become lords of the
soil, Louis XI, of France, in the Crusade of 1270, took possession
of the site of the ancient city, only to give up his last breath
there, and add another to the many legends of the spot. The Spaniards
afterwards conquered Tunis and held it for a time; and, in our own day,
the French have again repossessed themselves of the country, and may
retain it long after the events of our time have passed into history.

As soon as Rome rose to assured power, and began her course of
conquest, trouble with the powerful State of Carthage ensued. Their
clashing interests soon involved them in war, and Sicily and the
Sicilian waters, being necessary to both, soon became their battle
ground.

The Carthaginians had obtained a footing in Sicily, by assisting
Roman renegades and freebooters of all nations who had taken refuge
there. The Romans therefore passed a decree directing the Consul,
Appius Claudius, to cross over to Messina and expel the Carthaginians
who, from that strong point, controlled the passage of the great
thoroughfare, the strait of the same name. Thus commenced the first
Punic war. The Romans were almost uniformly successful upon land,
but the Carthaginians, deriving nautical skill from their Phenician
ancestors, overawed, with their fleet, the whole coast of Sicily, and
even made frequent and destructive descents upon the Italian shores
themselves.

[Illustration:

ROMAN GALLEY AND DRAW-BRIDGE.

CARTHAGINIAN GALLEY.

SMALLER ROMAN GALLEY.

CAPTURE OF THE CARTHAGINIAN FLEET BY THE ROMANS.]

The Romans at this time had no ships of war; but they began the
construction of a fleet, to cope with their enemy, then the undisputed
mistress of the seas.

Just at this time a Carthaginian ship of large size was stranded
upon the Italian shores, and served as a model for the Romans, who,
with characteristic energy, in a short time put afloat a hundred
quinqueremes and twenty triremes. No particular description of these
vessels is necessary, as they were the same in general plan as those
already spoken of as in use among the Egyptians, Phenicians, and
Greeks, for centuries. Able seamen were obtained from neighboring
tributary maritime States, and bodies of landsmen were put in training,
being exercised at the oar on shore; learning to begin and cease rowing
at the signal. For this purpose platforms were erected, and benches
placed, as in a galley.

It will here be necessary to give a short account of the Roman naval
system, which was now rapidly becoming developed and established. As
has been said, they had paid no attention, before this period, to naval
affairs; and were only stirred up to do so by the necessity of meeting
the Carthaginians upon their own element.

It is true that some authorities say that the first Roman ships of war
were built upon the model of those of Antium, after the capture of that
city, A. U. C. 417; but the Romans certainly made no figure at sea
until the time of the first Punic war.

The Roman ships of war were much longer than their merchant vessels,
and were principally driven by oars, while the merchant ships relied
almost entirely upon sails.

It is a more difficult problem than one would at first sight suppose,
to explain exactly how the oars were arranged in the quadriremes and
quinqueremes of which we read. The Roman ships were substantial and
heavy, and consequently slow in evolutions, however formidable in line.
Augustus, at a much later period, was indebted to a number of fast,
light vessels from the Dalmatian coast, for his victory over Antony’s
heavy ships.

The ship of the commander of a Roman fleet was distinguished by a red
flag, and also carried a light at night. These ships of war had prows
armed with a sharp beak, of brass, usually divided into three teeth, or
points. They also carried towers of timber, which were erected before
an engagement, and whence missiles were discharged. They employed both
freemen and slaves as rowers and sailors. The citizens and the allies
of the State were obliged to furnish a certain quota of these; and
sometimes to provide them with pay and provisions; but the wages of the
men were usually provided by the State.

The regular soldiers of the Legions at first fought at sea as well as
on land; but when Rome came to maintain a permanent fleet, there was a
separate class of soldiers raised for the sea service, like the marines
of modern navies. But this service was considered less honorable than
that of the Legions, and was often performed by manumitted slaves.
The rowers, a still lower class, were occasionally armed and aided in
attack and defence, when boarding; but this was not usual.

Before a Roman fleet went to sea it was formally reviewed, like the
land army. Prayers were offered to the gods, and victims sacrificed.
The auspices were consulted, and if any unlucky omen occurred (such as
a person sneezing on the left of the Augur, or swallows alighting on
the ships), the voyage was suspended.

Fleets about to engage were arranged in a manner similar to armies
on land, with centre, right and left wings, and reserve. Sometimes
they were arranged in the form of a wedge, or forceps, but most
frequently in a half moon. The admiral sailed round the fleet, in a
light galley, and exhorted the men, while invocations and sacrifices
were again offered. They almost always fought in calm or mild weather,
and with furled sails. The red flag was the signal to engage, which
they did with trumpets sounding and the crews shouting. The combatants
endeavored to disable the enemy by striking off the banks of oars
on one side, or by striking the opposing hulls with the beak. They
also employed fire-ships, and threw pots of combustibles on board the
enemy. Many of Antony’s ships were destroyed by this means. When they
returned from a successful engagement the prows of the victors were
decorated with laurel wreaths; and it was their custom to tow the
captured vessels stern foremost, to signify their utter confusion and
helplessness. The admiral was honored with a triumph, after a signal
victory, like a General or Consul who had won a decisive land battle;
and columns were erected in their honor, which were called Rostral,
from being decorated with the beaks of ships.

And now, to return to the imposing fleet which the Romans had equipped
against the Carthaginians:--

When all was ready the Romans put to sea; at first clinging to their
own shores, and practicing in fleet tactics. They found their vessels
dull and unwieldy, and therefore resolved to board the enemy at the
first opportunity, and avoid as much as possible all manœuvring.
They therefore carried plenty of grappling-irons, and had stages, or
gangways, ingeniously arranged upon hinges, which fell on board of the
enemy, and afforded secure bridges for boarding. By this means many
victories were secured over a people who were much better seamen.

After various partial engagements with the Carthaginian fleet,
productive of no definite results, Duilius assumed command of the Roman
fleet, and steered for Mylœ, where the Carthaginians, under Hannibal,
were lying at anchor.

The latter expected an easy victory, despising the pretensions of the
Romans to seamanship, and they accordingly left their anchorage in a
straggling way, not even thinking it worth while to form line of battle
to engage landsmen.

Their one hundred and thirty quinqueremes approached in detachments,
according to their speed, and Hannibal, with about thirty of the
fastest, came in contact with the Roman line, while the rest of his
fleet was far astern. Attacked on all sides, he soon began to repent of
his rashness, and turned to fly--but the “corvi” fell, and the Roman
soldiers, advancing over the gangways, put their enemies to the sword.
The whole of the Carthaginian van division fell into the Roman hands,
without a single ship being lost on the part of the latter. Hannibal
had fortunately made his escape in time, in a small boat, and at once
proceeded to form the rest of his fleet to resist the Roman shock. He
then passed from vessel to vessel, exhorting his men to stand firm; but
the novel mode of attack, and its great success, had demoralized the
Carthaginians, and they fled before the Roman advance; fifty more of
Hannibal’s fleet being captured.

So ended the first great naval engagement between Rome and Carthage;
bringing to the former joy and hope of future successes, and to the
latter grief and despondency.

Duilius, the Consul, had a rostral column of marble erected in his
honor, in the Roman forum, with his statue upon the top.

Hannibal was soon afterward crucified by his own seamen, in their rage
and mortification at their shameful defeat.

* * * * *

Slight skirmishes and collisions continued to occur, and both nations
became convinced that ultimate success could only be obtained by the
one which should obtain complete mastery of the Mediterranean Sea.
Both, therefore, made every effort; and the dock-yards were kept busily
at work, while provisions, arms, and naval stores were accumulated upon
a large scale.

The Romans fitted out three hundred and thirty, the Carthaginians three
hundred and fifty quinqueremes; and in the spring of the year 260 B.
C., the rivals took the sea, to fight out their quarrel to the bitter
end.

The Roman Consuls Manlius and Regulus had their fleet splendidly
equipped, and marshaled in divisions, with the first and second Legions
on board. Following was a rear division, with more soldiers, which
served as a reserve, and as a guard to the rear of the right and left
flanks.

Hamilcar, the admiral of the opposing fleet, saw that the Roman rear
was hampered by the transports which they were towing, and resolved to
try to separate the leading divisions from them; hoping to capture the
transports, and then the other divisions in detail; with this intention
he formed in four divisions. Three were in line, at right angles to the
course the Romans were steering, and the fourth in the order called
“forceps.”

The last division was a little in the rear and well to the left of the
main body.

Having made his dispositions, Hamilcar passed down the fleet in his
barge, and reminded his countrymen of their ancestral renown at sea,
and assured them that their former defeat was due, not to the nautical
ability of the Romans, but to the rash valor of the Carthaginians
against a warlike people not ever to be despised. “Avoid the prows of
the Roman galleys,” he continued, “and strike them amidships, or on the
quarter. Sink them, or disable their oars, and endeavor to render their
military machines, on which they greatly rely, wholly inoperative.”
Loud and continuous acclamations proclaimed the good disposition of
his men, and Hamilcar forthwith ordered the advance to be sounded,
signaling the vessels of the first division--which would be the first
to engage--to retreat in apparent disorder when they came down close
to the enemy. The Carthaginians obeyed his order to the letter, and,
as if terrified by the Roman array, turned in well simulated flight,
and were instantly pursued by both columns, which, as Hamilcar had
foreseen, drew rapidly away from the rest of the fleet. When they
were so far separated as to preclude the possibility of support, the
Carthaginians, at a given signal, put about, and attacked with great
ardor and resolution, making a desperate effort to force together the
two sides of the “forceps” in which the Romans were formed. But these
facing outward, and always presenting their prows to the Carthaginians,
remained immovable and unbroken. If the Carthaginians succeeded in
ramming one, those on each side of the attacked vessel came to her
assistance, and thus outnumbered, the Carthaginians did not dare to
board.

While the battle was thus progressing in the centre--without decided
results--Hanno, who commanded the Carthaginian right wing, instead
of engaging the left Roman column in flank, stretched far out to sea,
and bore down upon the Roman reserve, which carried the soldiers of
the Triarii. The Carthaginian reserve, instead of attacking the Roman
right column, as they evidently should have done, also bore down upon
the Roman reserve. Thus three distinct and separate engagements were
going on at once--all fought most valiantly. Just as the Roman reserve
was overpowered, and about to yield, they saw that the Carthaginian
centre was in full retreat, chased by the Roman van, while the Roman
second division was hastening to the assistance of their sorely pressed
reserve. This sight inspired the latter with new courage, and, although
they had had many vessels sunk, and a few captured, they continued the
fight until the arrival of their friends caused their assailant, Hanno,
to hoist the signal for retreat. The Roman third division, embarrassed
by its convoy, had been driven back until quite close to the land, and
while sharp-pointed, surf-beaten rocks appeared under their sterns, it
was attacked on both sides and in front, by the nimble Carthaginians.
Vessel by vessel it was falling into the enemy’s hands, when Manlius,
seeing its critical condition, relinquished his own pursuit, and
hastened to its relief. His presence converted defeat into victory,
and insured the complete triumph of the Roman arms; so that, while the
Carthaginians scattered in flight, the Romans, towing their prizes
stern foremost, as was their custom in victory, entered the harbor of
Heraclea.

In this sanguinary and decisive battle thirty of the Carthaginian and
twenty-four of the Roman quinqueremes were sent to the bottom, with all
on board. Not a single Roman vessel was carried off by the enemy; while
the Romans captured sixty-four ships and their crews.

Commodore Parker, of the U. S. Navy, in commenting upon this important
naval action, says, “Had Hanno and the commander of the Carthaginian
reserve done their duty faithfully and intelligently upon this
occasion, the Roman van and centre must have been doubled up and
defeated, almost instantly; after which it would have been an easy
matter to get possession of the others, with the transports. Thus the
Carthaginians would have gained a decisive victory, the effect of
which would have been, perhaps, to deter the Romans from again making
their appearance in force upon the sea; and then, with such leaders
as Hamilcar, Hasdrubal and Hannibal to shape her policy and conduct
her armaments, Carthage, instead of Rome, might have been the mistress
of the world. Such are the great issues sometimes impending over
contending armies and fleets.”

As soon as the Consuls had repaired damages they set sail from
Heraclea for Africa, where they disembarked an army under Regulus;
and most of the naval force, with the prisoners, then returned home.
Regulus, however, soon suffered a defeat, and the Roman fleet had to
be despatched to Africa again, in hot haste, to take off the scant
remnant of his army. Before taking on board the defeated Legions the
fleet had another great naval battle; and captured a Carthaginian fleet
of one hundred and fourteen vessels. With the soldiers on board, and
their prizes in tow, Marcus Emilius and Servius Fulvius, the Consuls
then in command, determined to return to Rome by the south shore of
Sicily. This was against the earnest remonstrances of the pilots, or
sailing masters, “who wisely argued that, at the dangerous season when,
the constellation of Orion being not quite past, and the Dog Star just
ready to appear, it were far safer to go North about.”

The Consuls, who had no idea of being advised by mere sailors, were
unfortunately not to be shaken in their determination; and so, when
Sicily was sighted, a course was shaped from Lylybeum to the promontory
of Pachymus. The fleet had accomplished about two-thirds of this
distance, and was just opposite a coast where there were no ports, and
where the shore was high and rocky, when, with the going down of the
sun, the north wind, which had been blowing steadily for several days,
suddenly died away, and as the Romans were engaged in furling their
flapping sails they observed that they were heavy and wet with the
falling dew, the sure precursor of the terrible “Scirocco.” Then the
pilots urged the Consuls to pull directly to the southward, that they
might have sea room sufficient to prevent them from being driven on
shore when the storm should burst upon them. But this, with the dread
of the sea natural to men unaccustomed to contend with it, they refused
to do; not comprehending that, although their quinqueremes were illy
adapted to buffet the waves, anything was better than a lee shore, with
no harbor of refuge.

The north wind sprang up again after a little, cheering the hearts of
the inexperienced, blew in fitful gusts for an hour or more, then died
nearly away, again sprang up, and finally faded out as before. The
seamen knew what this portended. “Next came a flash of lightning in the
southern sky; then a line of foam upon the southern sea; the roaring
of Heaven’s artillery in the air above, and of the breakers on the
beach below--and the tempest was upon them!” From this time all order
was lost, and the counsels and admonitions of the pilots unheeded.
The Roman fleet was completely at the mercy of the hurricane, and the
veterans who had borne themselves bravely in many a hard fought battle
with their fellow man, now, completely demoralized in the presence of
this new danger, behaved more like maniacs than reasonable beings. Some
advised one thing, some another; but nothing sensible was done--and
when the gale broke, out of four hundred and sixty-four quinqueremes
(an immense fleet) three hundred and eighty had been dashed upon the
rocks and lost.

The whole coast was covered with fragments of wreck and dead bodies;
and that which Rome had been so many years in acquiring, at the cost of
so much blood, labor, and treasure, she lost in a few hours, through
the want of experienced seamen in command.

* * * * *

During the succeeding Punic wars Rome and Carthage had many another
well contested naval engagement.

Adherbal captured ninety-four Roman vessels off Drepanum, but the
dogged courage of the Roman was usually successful.

We have few details of these engagements. What the Romans gained in
battle was often lost by them in shipwreck; so that, at the end of
the first Punic war, which lasted twenty-four years, they had lost
seven hundred quinqueremes, and the vanquished Carthaginians only five
hundred.

At the time spoken of, when the Romans were fighting the Carthaginians,
the former were a free, virtuous and patriotic people. No reverses cast
them down; no loss of life discouraged them.

After a lapse of two hundred years, Marcus Brutus and Cassius being
dead, and public virtue scoffed at and fast expiring, an arbitrary
government was in process of erection upon the ruins of the Republic.

The triumvirate had been dissolved, and Octavius and Antony, at the
head of vast armies and fleets, were preparing, on opposite sides of
the Gulf of Ambracia, to submit their old quarrel to the arbitrament
of the sword. In this emergency Antony’s old officers and soldiers,
whom he had so often led to victory, naturally hoped that, assuming
the offensive, he would draw out his legions, and, by his ability and
superior strategy, force his adversary from the field. But, bewitched
by a woman, the greatest captain of the age--now that Cæsar and Pompey
were gone--had consented to abandon a faithful and devoted army, and
to rely solely upon his fleet; which, equal to that of Octavius in
numbers, was far inferior in discipline and drill, and in experience of
actual combat.

[Illustration: ROMAN GALLEY.]

IV.

ACTIUM. B. C. 31.

SCENE VII. _Near Actium. Antony’s Camp._

_Enter_ Antony and Canidius.

_Ant._ Is it not strange, Canidius,
That from Tarentum and Brundusium
He could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea,
And taken in Toryne? you have heard on’t, sweet?

_Cleo._ Celerity is never more admired
Than by the negligent.

_Ant._ A good rebuke,
Which might have well becomed the best of men,
To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
Will fight with him by sea.

_Cleo._ By sea! What else?

_Canid._ Why will my lord do so?

_Ant._ For that he dares us to ’t.

_Enob._ So hath my lord dared him to single fight.

_Canid._ Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia,
Where Cæsar fought with Pompey: but these offers
Which serve not for his vantage he shakes off;
And so should you.

_Enob._ Your ships are not well mann’d;
Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people
Ingrossed by swift impress; in Cæsar’s fleet
Are those that often have ’gainst Pompey fought;
Their ships are yare; yours, heavy; no disgrace
Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
Being prepared for land.

_Ant._ By sea, by sea.

_Enob._ Most worthy sir, you therein throw away
The absolute soldiership you have by land;
Distract your army, which doth most consist
Of war-mark’d footmen; leave unexecuted
Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
The way which promises assurance; and
Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard,
From firm security.

_Ant._ I’ll fight at sea.

_Cleo._ I have sixty sails, Cæsar none better.

_Ant._ Our overplus of shipping will we burn;
And, with the rest full mann’d, from the head of Actium,
Beat the approaching Cæsar. But if we fail,
We then can do ’t at land.

SHAKESPEARE--_Antony and Cleopatra._

Philippi, the decisive battle between Octavius and Brutus and Cassius,
took place B. C. 42. Octavius, who afterward assumed the name of
Augustus, is very differently described by historians. It is said
that he did not fight at Philippi; and he is called a coward by some
writers, who declare that he was always sick on critical days. Be that
as it may, it seems certain that Antony fought that battle, although
Octavius got the credit of success with the Roman public, which
soon endowed him with every quality which goes to make the title of
“August,” which title he was the first to bear; being the favorite of
the citizens, much more by reason of his ancestry, and by the judicious
bestowal of offices and of money, than by feats of arms.

After their victory at Philippi, Antony and Octavius divided the
empire of the world between them. But the two were devoured by an
equal ambition; and, although a common danger had for a time lulled
their mutual suspicion and dislike, and forced them to act in unison,
harmony between them could not long continue. Neither of them wished
to share empire, and each was determined that the other, sooner or
later, should be forced to renounce power, if not life itself. The
repudiation of Octavia the sister of Octavius, by Antony, added
increased fuel to the fires of hatred, and we learn from contemporary
writers that clear-sighted persons not only foresaw that a death
struggle between the two great leaders was only a question of time,
but they predicted the result, as Antony, in the midst of feasts and
other dissipation, was fast losing that activity of mind and body which
had brought him his successes, and had, in former days, gained him the
esteem and confidence of Cæsar.

While Antony was placing his laurels and his renown under the feet of
an Egyptian queen, the cool and astute Octavius, never losing sight of
the end he had in view, turned to his own aggrandizement and elevation,
in the estimation of the Roman people, Antony’s disgraceful conduct.

The future Augustus, with the full consent of the Senate, raised fresh
legions in Italy, equipped a fleet, and made every preparation for an
enterprise upon which was to depend the control of the whole civilized
world.

As if Antony had taken pains to furnish his already too powerful
rival with the pretexts which should serve as a mask to his ambitious
views, the former caused general disgust and indignation at Rome by
dismembering the Empire--so to speak--in the interests of Cleopatra,
whom he proclaimed Queen of Cyprus, Cilicia, Cœlesyria, Arabia and
Judea; while he gave to the two sons whom he had had by her the title
of “King of Kings.” This insane defiance of the susceptibility and
pride of the Republic was one of the principal causes of Antony’s
destruction. People ceased to fear him when they learned that he
had become habitually intemperate; and they no longer saw in him a
redoubtable and successful Roman general, but an Eastern Satrap,
plunged in pleasure and debauchery.

Octavius, affecting rather contempt than anger at Antony’s proceedings,
declared war against Cleopatra only, and seemed to regard Antony as
already deprived of the power and majesty which he had sullied in
committing them to the hands of the Egyptian queen.

Octavius could only raise on the Italian peninsula, then exhausted by
civil war, 80,000 legionaries, with 12,000 cavalry, and two hundred
and fifty ships--a small force to oppose to the five hundred ships
and 120,000 men of Antony, without counting the allied troops which
his rival was able to bring against him. But, more active and daring
than Antony, he had, with astonishing celerity, collected his forces,
and crossed the Ionian Sea, while Antony was lingering in Samos, and
indulging in all sorts of debasing pleasures, with little thought
devoted to preparation for the inevitable and momentous struggle.

At last the imminence of the danger awoke him to the realities
surrounding him, and he brought forward his powerful fleet, anchoring
it near the promontory of Actium, in Epirus, ready to oppose the
advance of Octavius.

His ships were double in number those of the Romans, well armed and
equipped, but heavy, and badly manned, so that their manœuvres did not
compare in celerity with those of the western fleet.

Although Octavius had fewer ships and fewer men, those which he had
were Romans; and he was fighting, ostensibly, to vindicate the wounded
pride and honor of his country, which had been trampled under foot by
Antony and a stranger queen.

The generals of Antony united in imploring him not to confide his
destiny to the uncertainty of winds and waves, but to give battle
on shore, where, they answered for it, victory would perch upon
their banners. But Antony remained deaf to their supplications, and
Cleopatra, who had joined him with seventy Egyptian ships, also
preferred to fight a naval battle; it is said, in order that, if her
lover was vanquished, she herself could more easily escape.

Boldly searching for Antony, the Roman fleet came in contact with his,
near the promontory of Actium.

On opposite shores of the bay partly formed by that promontory lay the
two armies, spectators of a conflict which was to decide their fate,
but in which they were not to join.

The wind and weather were both favorable, but the two fleets remained
for a long time opposite to each other, as if hesitating to begin
the struggle, the issue of which was fraught with such momentous
consequences.

Antony had confided the command of his left wing to Cœlius; the centre
to Marcus Octavius and Marcus Inteius; while he himself, with Valerius
Publicola, assumed command of the right wing.

The fleet of Octavius was commanded by Agrippa, to whom all the glory
of the victory is due. Octavius and his admiral at first regarded with
surprise and uneasiness the immobility of the enemy, who were ensconced
in the arm of the sea, which sheet of water contained many shoals and
reefs, and therefore, if the enemy remained there, deprived Octavius
of the advantage to be derived from the rapidity of manœuvre of his
vessels.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF ACTIUM.]

But Antony’s officers, eager to show their prowess, proceeded to get
their left wing under way, and moved to the attack of Octavius’ right.
The latter, taking advantage of this false move, made a retrograde
movement, and endeavored to draw out the whole opposing force from
their commanding position unto the high sea, where the Romans would
have room to manœuvre, and thereby successfully assail Antony’s heavier
vessels.

At this moment the scene was grand. The flashing of arms, and glinting
of the sun upon polished casques, the streaming flags, and thousands
of oars simultaneously put in motion, gave life and animation; while
the blare of the brazen trumpets and the shouts of the myriads of
combatants were echoed from the shores by the cheers and cries of two
large armies, each encouraging its own fleet, and inciting them to the
greater exertion.

Cleopatra’s large and magnificent galley hovered in the rear of the
fleet, with the purple sails furled, and the poop occupied by herself
and her ladies, surrounded by all the splendor of the Egyptian court.

Thinking, as we have said, that Octavius’ fleet fled before them,
Antony and his commanders abandoned their advantageous position, and
followed Agrippa out to sea.

Once there, the Roman fleet quickly put about, in good order, and a
terrible battle at once began--Roman disputing with Roman the empire of
the world.

At last an able movement of Agrippa caused Antony’s centre to give
way; but despite the disorder which resulted, the action was steadily
maintained, the losses on each side being about equal, and victory
undecided.

The force of Agrippa made up by celerity of movement for the greater
number of Antony’s fleet, and the battle was at its height, when,
suddenly, Cleopatra, panic-stricken by the noise and dreadful carnage,
gave a signal for retreat, hoisted her purple sails, and, with the
whole Egyptian contingent, retreated rapidly, leaving a great gap in
the line of battle. Some were sunk by the beaks of their pursuers, but
the majority made their escape, and were soon far from the scene.

This shameful action should have opened Antony’s eyes, and have
stimulated him--being even yet superior in numbers--to repair by
renewed exertions the defection of the beautiful queen. But his
movements seemed to be controlled by her’s, and, forgetting his own
honor, his former glory, his empire, and his duty as commander, as a
soldier and as a man, he abandoned the brave seamen and soldiers who
were fighting for him, and took a fast, light vessel, and followed the
woman who had been his ruin, and at whose shrine he was about to offer
as a sacrifice the dishonor of Cæsar’s greatest lieutenant.

It is said that for some time he sat upon the deck, his head bowed
between his hands, and wrapped in his own thoughts. But he only
regained sufficient command of himself to resolve to protect the cause
of his ruin. He therefore continued his flight to the promontory of
Tenaros; and then soon after learned of the entire defeat of his fleet.

Even after being thus shamefully abandoned by their commander, his
troops and sailors had for a long time; maintained the combat; but
bad weather coming on they at last surrendered, after a loss of five
thousand killed, and having three hundred ships captured, with their
crews.

For a long time the land forces of Antony could not believe in his
defection, and looked for him to reappear, and, at their head, redeem
the fortunes of the sea fight. Indeed, for many days after the victory
they declined the overtures of Octavius. But at last, despairing of
Antony’s return, their general, with his principal officers and the
troops, passed under the banners of Octavius. This event left him the
undisputed master of the world.

Upon his return to Rome he was decreed a three days’ triumph, and he
now assumed in public the imperial powers which he had long virtually
possessed.

The shocking death of both Antony and Cleopatra, by suicide, hardly
belongs to the account of Actium, although the direct consequence of
the overwhelming defeat there sustained.

[Illustration: THE PTOLEMY PHILOPATER--405 B. C.

(Constructed by Ptolemy Philopater, of Egypt, after a Greek Model.)]

LEPANTO. A. D. 1571.

Sixteen hundred years after Actium another great naval battle took
place upon the coast of Greece. It was of momentous importance, as it
is not too much to say that it decided the future fate and sovereignty
of at least the eastern part of Europe.

Before we speak of Lepanto, however, it may be well to glance at naval
events for two or three centuries previous to the eventful year 1571.

After the Republic of Venice had become strong, their first great sea
fight was with the Saracens, then a terror to all the Christian nations
of the Mediterranean. The Venetians, at the solicitation of the Emperor
Theodosius, coöperated with the Greeks against their implacable enemy.
The hostile fleets met at Crotona, in the Gulf of Taranto, where the
Greeks fled at the first onset of the Saracens, leaving their Venetian
allies to fight against vastly superior numbers. In spite of their
courage and constancy, which maintained the unequal fight for many
hours, the Venetians were defeated, and lost nearly every one of the
sixty ships which they took into the fight.

Twenty-five years afterwards the Venetian fleet met the Saracens again,
almost in the very spot of their former discomfiture, and obtained a
splendid victory; and their naval fights continued, almost without
intermission, and with varying fortunes; the Venetians, on the whole,
holding their own.

On February 13th, 1353, there was a remarkable naval fight between the
allied fleets of Venice, Aragon, and Constantinople, and the Genoese
fleet, under the command of the redoubtable Paganino Doria. The Genoese
were victorious.

In spite of the successful achievements of Doria, which should
have brought him the respect and support of his countrymen, he was
supplanted by his bitter foe, Antonio Grimaldi, who was put in command
of the fleet. He was, not long after, defeated by the allied fleets of
Spain and Venice, with tremendous loss. Grimaldi, thereupon, fell out
of favor; and the next year the Genoese were obliged to again place
Doria in command of their fleet, with which he gained a great victory
over the Venetians at Porto Longo, capturing the whole of their fleet.

Peace between the two Republics was then made, and continued until
1378, when war was again declared. Victor Pisani, in command of the
fleet of Venice, had a successful battle with the Genoese off Actium,
the scene of the wonderful fight just before the commencement of the
Christian era.

In 1379 Pisani was forced by the Venetian Senate, against his own
judgment, to fight a far superior Genoese fleet, under Luciano Doria,
off Pola, in the Adriatic. The Venetian fleet was almost annihilated,
and Pisani, on his return, was loaded with chains, and thrown into a
dungeon. The Genoese, after burning several Venetian towns upon the
Adriatic, appeared off Venice, entered the lagoon, took Chioggia,
and filled the Venetians with consternation and terror. The people
flocked to the Piazza San Marco, in thousands, and demanded that Pisani
be restored to the command of the fleet. The authorities were at
their wits’ ends, and consented, while Pisani, with true patriotism,
condoned his wrongs and ill treatment, and applied himself at once to
the work of organization. After unheard of exertions he succeeded in
discomfiting the enemy, and Venice was saved.

Pisani afterwards made a cruise in command of the fleet on the Asiatic
coast, but, worn out by hard service and his former ill treatment, he
died soon after his return, to the common sorrow and remorse of all
Venetians.

The Turks took Constantinople in 1453, and the contests between them
and the Venetians continued with even greater bitterness; and after the
capture of Cyprus by the Moslems, and the fitting out by the Sultan
Selim of an immense and powerful fleet, it became evident to the
western world that some supreme effort should be put forth to curb the
advance of the Turkish power.

* * * * *

Let us now glance at the state of affairs about the time of Lepanto.

The latter part of the 16th century was a stirring and eventful period
in the world’s history.

Charles V had resigned his empire to that sullen bigot, his son, Philip
II.

About the same time Moscow was being burned by the Tartars; the
Russians having been the abject subjects of the Tartars but a few years
before.

Prussia, so powerful to-day, was then a small hereditary duchy,
Lutheran in religion, and still a fief of Poland. The Poles were then a
much more powerful nation than the Russians.

The States of the north, Sweden and Denmark, were very strong, and made
their influence felt in all Europe. Tycho Brahe, the subject of the
latter, was then a young man.

Portugal, from her brilliant maritime discoveries, had extended
relations with Japan, China, India and Brazil; and had rendered Lisbon
the market of the world, usurping the place of Antwerp. Her decline
was, however, soon to follow.

Soon after Lepanto, Holland, driven to despairing effort by the tyranny
of Philip, revolted, and William of Orange became Stadtholder. He was
succeeded by Maurice, whose efforts to secure independence were so
ably seconded by Elizabeth of England, as to draw down upon the latter
nation the vengeance of Philip, shown later in the despatch of his
grand Armada, but a very few years after the event of Lepanto.

The Church of England had been established, and Elizabeth was enjoying
her splendid reign. Sir Walter Raleigh, Drake, and other heroes of the
sea were then young men.

Florence was about to enjoy her highest distinction as the home of
learning and art, under Cosmo de Medici, and Pius V was Pope; one of
the greatest that ever occupied the Papal throne.

Rodolph, of Hapsburg, had had his fierce struggle with the Turks, by
land; but Austria then had no naval force.

In France the weak and bloody Charles IX was upon the throne, and the
massacre of Saint Bartholomew was close at hand.

And now, to come to the great event of Lepanto, which decided the
question of supremacy between Christianity and Islamism.

The Turks had captured Cyprus; possessed almost irresistible power, and
everything looked very dark for Christendom.

But in spite of the connivance of Charles IX in their advance, who by
this base conduct preluded the great crime of his reign; in spite
of the calculated inaction of England; the timidity of Austria; the
exhaustion of Poland, after a long war with still barbarous Muscovy,
the genius of Christianity took a fresh flight, and the star of the
west once more rose in the ascendant.

The honor of being the head of the effort at resistance to the
encroaching Turkish power, and of victorious reprisals, belongs
especially to Pope Pius V, a simple monk who had been exalted to the
Pontifical throne; a zealous and austere priest, of a disposition
naturally violent, which had been subdued by experience, foresight, and
real greatness of soul.

This Pontiff, upon the first menace of the Turks against Cyprus,
bestirred himself to form a league of several Christian States.

A crusade was no longer possible, from the condition of Europe, which
was divided by religious schism, and by the ambition of princes. But,
if the Pope could no longer send the whole of Europe to a holy war,
such as was condemned by Luther as unjust and inhuman, he could at
least, as a temporal prince, take his part in active operations.

Not even the coolness and calculated slowness of Philip of Spain--the
Monarch from whom he had a right to expect the most assistance--could
arrest the zeal of the ardent and generous Pontiff, who saw that the
time had come for Christendom to conquer or submit.

Philip II, who was without mercy for the Mahomedans still scattered
throughout his dominions, nevertheless hesitated to enter upon a
struggle with the Turks; and above all did he dislike to defend Venice
against them--so much did he envy the latter her rich commerce.

The first power asked to join the league against Selim, he only finally
consented upon being given by the Pope the revenues of the church
throughout his vast realm, for as long as the war should last. But even
this gilded bait became the source of delay, the avaricious and cunning
monarch deferring preparations, and multiplying obstacles to the
undertaking, so as to profit as long as possible from the rich revenue
derived from that source.

Thus it happened that, by his delay, in spite of the coalition, and
of the allied fleet, equal in number and superior in condition and
discipline to that of the Turks, the Island of Cyprus was captured,
after stubborn sieges of its two capitals, Nicosia and Famagousta,
without any assistance from the rest of Christendom.

Famagousta was captured after a very prolonged and obstinate defence,
which had been conducted at the expense of fifty thousand lives to
the Turks, who had made six general assaults. Finally the city was
allowed to capitulate on honorable terms. Mustapha, the same fierce
Moslem general who had conducted the siege of Malta, requested four
of the principal Venetian leaders to meet him at his quarters. Here a
short and angry conference ensued, when, in violation of the terms of
the capitulation, Mustapha ordered three of them to instant execution.
But he reserved Bragadino, who had held the supreme command during
the siege, and ordered him to have his ears cut off, and to be set
to work to carry earth to repair the works. After a few days of this
humiliation Mustapha caused him to be flayed alive, in the public
market place. This horrible sentence was not only carried into effect,
but his skin was stuffed and suspended from the yard arm of Mustapha’s
galley; and, with this shocking trophy thus displayed, he returned
to Constantinople. Here he was rewarded by Selim for the capture of
Cyprus. These terrible events added fuel to the flame of revenge which
the Venetians felt, and were, of course, additional incentives to their
allies.

The capture of Cyprus, and the disgraceful events following it, aroused
the indignation of all Europe. The iron yoke of the Turk, with his
following hosts of Asiatic robbers and cut-throats, owing to the delay
in relief, extended over the whole of the large, rich and populous
island.

Pius V, in terrible grief at these events, and full of foreboding for
the future, made himself heard throughout Europe; and with renewed
ardor he insisted upon carrying out the treaty of alliance already
made, the assembly of the allied fleet, and upon vengeance upon the
Ottomans, since succor for Cyprus would arrive too late.

The greatest mark of his terrible earnestness was the assembling of
a Pontifical fleet and army--a thing unheard of at that time. The
Pope gave the command to a member of the very ancient Roman family of
Colonna.

In the latter part of 1571, five months after the capture of Cyprus,
the Christian armament appeared upon the Mediterranean, consisting
of galleys to the number of two hundred, with galleasses, transports
and other vessels, carrying fifty thousand soldiers. Then immediately
followed the most important event of the sixteenth century.

The Christian fleet made rendezvous at Messina; whence Sebastian
Veniero, the Venetian admiral, would have sailed at once, and have
sought the enemy without delay, so much did he fear for the Venetian
possessions in the Adriatic, from the rapid advance of the Ottomans.

But Don John, the supreme commander, with a prudence worthy of an
older and less fiery man, would not move until he was strengthened
by every possible reinforcement, as he wished to use every means in
his power to avoid a defeat which must be a final and crushing one to
the side which should lose. He was certain that the great resources
of the Ottoman empire would, on this supreme occasion, be strained to
the utmost to equip their greatest armament. During this delay the
Pope proclaimed a jubilee--granting indulgences to all engaged in the
expedition--such as had formerly been given to the deliverers of the
Holy Sepulchre.

On September 16th, the magnificent armament, unrivaled since the days
of imperial Rome, put to sea from Messina. They were baffled by rough
seas and head winds on the Calabrian coast, and made slow progress. The
commander had sent a small squadron in advance, for intelligence. They
returned with the news that the Turks were still in the Adriatic, with
a powerful fleet, and had committed fearful ravages upon the Venetian
territories. The fleet then steered for Corfu, and reached there on
September 26th, seeing for themselves traces of the enemy in smoking
towns and farms, and deserted fields and vineyards. The islanders
welcomed them, and furnished what they could of needed supplies.

Don John seems to have had his own plans: but he now called a council,
because courtesy required that he should consult the commanders of the
Allies--and because he had promised Philip to do so--the latter fearing
his fiery and impetuous disposition.

The opinions were divided--as is always the case in councils of war.
Those who had had personal experience of Turkish naval prowess appeared
to shrink from encountering so formidable an armament, and would have
confined the operations of the Christian fleet to besieging some city
belonging to the Moslems. Even Doria, the old sea-dog, whose life
had been spent in fighting the infidel, thought it was not advisable
to attack the enemy in his present position, surrounded as he was
by friendly shores, whence he could obtain aid and reinforcement.
He wished to attack Navarino, and thus draw the enemy from the gulf
where he was anchored, and force him to give battle in the open sea.
But, strange to say (for a proverb has it that councils of war never
fight), the majority took a different view, and said that the object
of the expedition was to destroy the Ottoman fleet, and that a better
opportunity could not present itself than when they were shut in a
gulf, from which, if defeated, they could not escape.

The most influential of the council held these views: among them the
Marquis of Santa Cruz, Cardona, the commander of the Sicilian squadron,
Barberigo, second in command of the Venetians, Grand Commander
Requesens, Colonna, and young Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma--the
nephew of Don John, who was seeing his first service now, but who was
to become, in time, the greatest captain of his age.

Thus supported in his judgment, the young commander-in-chief resolved
to give the Turks battle in the position they had chosen. But he was
delayed by weather, and other causes, and the enemy were not actually
met until October 7th.

The Ottoman fleet, two hundred strong, rowed by Christian slaves, and
accompanied by numbers of transports, was moored in a gulf upon the
Albanian coast, while the Christian fleet, seeking its enemy, came down
from the north, led by the galleys of the Venetian contingent.

As the time of conflict approached, the commander-in-chief, Don John,
rose superior to the timid counsels of the generals of Philip II, who
accompanied him, and who were, in a manner, charged with his safety.

Don John, of Austria, was the natural son of Charles V, but was fully
recognized, not only by his father, but by Philip, his legitimate
brother, who originally intended him for high ecclesiastical dignities.
But Don John early showed great predilection for the profession of
arms, and was conspicuous during the revolt of the Moors of Grenada.
In 1570, when only twenty-six years old, he received the supreme
command of the Spanish fleet; and his ability and success justified an
appointment which was due to favoritism.

After Lepanto he conquered Tunis, and the idea was entertained of
founding a Christian kingdom there, for him; but the jealousy of his
arbitrary and suspicious brother prevented this. He then received the
governorship of the Low Countries, succeeding the notorious and bloody
Duke of Alva, and he there died, in his camp at Namur, in 1578, aged
thirty-three. It is said that he was about to undertake an expedition
to deliver Mary Stuart, at the time of his death, which was attributed
by some to poison.

Don John was one of the remarkable soldiers of his time. Generous,
frank, humane, he was beloved by both soldiers and citizens. He was a
fine horseman, handsome, well made, and graceful.

Don John’s principal force, in ships and fighting men, was Italian;
for, besides the twelve galleys of the Pope, and those of Genoa, Savoy,
and other Italian States and cities, many were contributed by rich and
generous Italian private citizens. The greater number, however, were
Venetian; this State contributing one hundred and six “royal galleys”
and six galleasses. The galleasses were large ships, rather dull as
sailers, but carrying forty or fifty pieces of cannon.

Among the complement of the Venetians were many Greeks--either refugees
from the Morea, or recruited in Candia, Corfu, and other islands, then
subject to the Venetian power. In keeping with the jealous policy of
Venice, none of these subjects had any maritime command or military
rank; but they fought valiantly under the flag of St. Marc, which lost
in the battle its chief admiral and fifteen captains.

The Spaniards had about eighty galleys; but had also a number of
brigantines, and vessels of small size--and were better manned than
the Venetians--so that Don John drafted several thousand men from the
other Italian ships, and from those of Spain, to make good the Venetian
complement. Veniero, the Venetian Admiral, took great offence at this,
and much trouble arose from it, but the imminence of the conflict and
the importance of the result to Venice prevented him from withdrawing
his force, as he at first threatened to do.

The total number of men on board the allied fleet was eighty thousand.
The galleys, impelled principally by oars, required a large number of
rowers. Of the 29,000 soldiers embarked, 19,000 were sent by Spain.
They were good troops, officered by men of reputation, and most of them
illustrious, not only for family, but for military achievement. It was
so also with the Venetian officers, as it should have been--for her
very existence was at stake, unless the Turks were defeated.

Don John himself arranged the order of battle; and, standing erect
in a fast pulling boat, clad in his armor, and bearing in his hand a
crucifix, he pulled round the fleet, exhorting the Allies, by voice and
gesture, to make a common cause, and without reference to the flags
they bore, to act as one nationality in the face of the common foe.

He then returned to his own galley, where a staff of young Castilian
and Sardinian nobles awaited him, and unfurled the great banner of the
League, presented by the Pope, and bearing the arms of Spain, Venice
and the Pope, bound together by an endless chain.

The _Real_, or Admiral’s galley of Don John, was of great size, and had
been built in Barcelona, at that time famous for naval architecture.
Her stern was highly decorated with emblems and historical devices,
while her interior was furnished most luxuriously. But, most of all,
she excelled in strength and speed, and right well did she do her part
when exposed to the actual test of battle.

Lepanto was fought on Sunday. The weather was beautiful, and the sun
shone in splendor upon the peculiarly clear blue water of those seas.

The sight on that morning must have been surpassingly grand. The
beautiful galleys, with their numerous oars dashing the water into
foam; gaudy pennons streaming from the picturesque lateen yards; gaily
painted hulls, decorated with shields and armorial insignia; culverins
mounted at the prows, with matches smoking; the decks filled with men
in polished armor and gay plumes, and armed with sword and spear,
matchlock and arquebus, cross-bow and petronel. Shouts of command
and of enthusiasm went up amid a brandishing of weapons, while an
occasional hush occurred when the holy fathers of the church gave
absolution to those who were about to meet the fierce infidel.

More than half the ships carried at their mast-heads the Lion of St.
Marc, which waved over the sturdy sea-dogs of Venice, while other
divisions showed the red and yellow of Spain, the white, with crossed
keys and triple mitre of the Pope, or the varied ensigns of the
Italian cities.

On the other side were the Turks, with their numerous and powerful
galleys, mostly pulled by Christian slaves, who were driven by cruel
blows to put forth their utmost strength against their co-religionists;
for in every galley, Turkish or Christian, where slaves worked the
oars, there extended between the benches of the rowers, fore and aft, a
raised walk, on which two or three boatswains, with long rods, walked
back and forth, dealing heavy blows upon those who were not thought
to be doing their utmost at the oars. The slaves were shackled to the
benches when they rowed; and never left them, day or night. Their food
and clothing were scanty, and the filth about them was seldom cleared
away, except by the rain from heaven, or the seas, which sometimes
washed on board. The fighting men of the galleys were mostly on the
fore-deck, and on outside galleries, or platforms above the gunwales.

The Turks had the wild music which they love to encourage their
fighting men, kettle-drums and pipes, cymbals and trumpets. The
horse-tails of the Pashas streamed from the poops of their galleys, as
with loud cries they appealed to Allah to deliver the Christian dogs
once more into their hands. And there was every reason to suppose that
their wish would be fulfilled, for they had the stronger force, and
carried with them the prestige of former victories won over the best
efforts of the Christians.

THE BATTLE.

On the morning of the memorable 7th of October the Christian fleet
weighed anchor for Lepanto, at two hours before dawn. The wind was
light, but adverse, and oars had to be used. At sunrise they came up
with a group of rocky islets which form the northern cape of the
Gulf of Lepanto. The rowers labored hard at the oars, while all others
strained their eyes for the first glimpse of the great Moslem fleet. At
length they were descried from the masthead of the _Real_, and almost
at the same moment by Andrew Doria, who commanded on the right.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF LEPANTO.]

Don John ordered his pennon to be displayed, unfurled the banner of the
Christian League, and fired a gun, the preconcerted signal for battle.

This was answered by an exultant shout from all the ships.

The principal captains now came on board the _Real_, to receive their
final orders; and a few, even then, doubted the propriety of fighting,
but Don John sternly said, “Gentlemen, this is the time for battle,
and not for counsel!” and the armada was at once deployed in fighting
array, according to orders previously issued.

When ready for battle the Christian force had a front of three miles.
On the extreme right was Doria, whose name was justly held in terror
by the Moslem, with sixty-four galleys. In the centre, consisting of
sixty-three galleys, was Don John, supported on one side by Colonna,
and on the other by Veniero. In his rear was the Grand Commander
Requesens, his former tutor in military matters. The left wing was
commanded by Barberigo, a Venetian noble, who was to keep his vessels
as near the Ætolian coast as the rocks and shoals would permit, to
prevent his wing being turned by the enemy.

The reserve, of thirty-five galleys, was commanded by the Marquis of
Santa Cruz, a man of known courage and conduct, who had orders to act
in any quarter where he thought his aid most needed.

The smaller craft took little part in the battle, the action being
fought almost entirely by the galleys.

Each commander was to take space enough for manœuvring, yet to keep
so close as to prevent the enemy from piercing the line. Each was to
single out his adversary, close with him, and board as soon as possible.

Don John had the beak of his galley cut away; so little did he rely
upon an instrument once, and for so long, considered formidable.

By this time galleys mounted guns upon their prows, and beaks were
beginning to fall out of use. It is said that many commanders of the
allies followed Don John’s example.

The Ottoman fleet weighed and came out to the battle. But they came
on slowly, as the wind had suddenly shifted and was now against them,
while, as the day advanced, the sun, which had been in the faces of the
Allies, shone in those of the Moslem; and both these natural phenomena
were hailed by the Christians as an evidence of divine interposition.

The Turkish armament proved to be even greater in number than had been
anticipated by the Christians, consisting of nearly two hundred and
fifty “royal galleys,” most of them of the largest class; and a number
of smaller vessels in the rear, which, however, like the similar ones
of the Allies, do not appear to have come much into action.

The number of the Turks, including rowers, is said to have been
120,000. As we have said, the rowers were principally Christian slaves,
with some blacks and criminals.

As was usual with the Turks, their order of battle was crescentic, and,
being more numerous than the Allies, they occupied a wider space than
the straight alignment of the Christians.

As their formidable and magnificent array advanced, the moving sun
shone upon gaudy paint and gilded prows, thousands of pennons,
polished cimeters and head pieces, and the jeweled turbans of the
Pachas, and other chief men.

In the centre of their long line, and opposite to Don John, was a huge
galley, bearing the Turkish commander, Ali Pasha.

His fleet was commanded on the right by the Viceroy of Egypt, a wary
but courageous leader. His left was led by Uluch Ali, a Calabrian
renegade and Dey of Algiers, noted as a successful corsair, who had
made more Christian slaves than all the rest beside.

Ali was, like Don John, young and ambitious, and had refused to listen
to any counsels looking toward declining battle on that day. Selim had
sent him to fight, and he was determined to do so; although the prudent
Viceroy of Egypt expressed some doubts of success.

Ali found the Christian fleet more numerous than he had supposed, and
at first he did not perceive their left wing, which was hidden by the
Ætolian shore.

When he saw the Christian line in its full extent, it is said that he
faltered for a moment, but only for a moment, for he at once urged on
the rowers to close with the enemy, and spoke of the prospects of the
engagement, to those about him, in confident terms.

It is said that Ali was of humane disposition, and that he promised
the Christian slaves that, if by their exertions he won the day, they
should all have their freedom.

As he drew near the Allies, Ali changed his order of battle, separating
his wings from the centre, to correspond to the Christian formation.
He also fired a challenge gun, before he came within shot. This was
answered by Don John, and a second one was promptly replied to from the
Christian flag-ship.

The fleets now rapidly neared each other. Men held their breath, and
nerved themselves for the death grapple, and a perfect silence reigned,
broken only by the plash of the huge oars, while the light breeze
rippled the smiling blue waters.

Just about noon this beautiful scene, a perfect pageant, was broken in
upon by the fierce yells of the Turks, the war cry with which they were
accustomed to join battle.

At this moment, as if by contrast, every fighting man of the Christians
fell upon his knee, as did Don John himself, and prayed the Almighty
to be with his own that day. Absolution was then given by the priests,
which were in each ship, and the men stood up, braced for the contest.

When the foremost Turkish vessels had come within cannon shot, they
opened fire; and this ran along their line as they advanced, without
cessation. The Christian kettle-drums and trumpets sounded in reply,
with a general discharge of all the guns which would bear.

Don John had caused the galleasses, the large, high, unwieldy war
ships, to be towed about half a mile ahead of his fleet, where they
could intercept the advance of the Turks.

As the latter came abreast of them, the galleasses delivered their
broadsides, with terrible effect. Ali caused his galleys to diverge,
and pass these vessels, which were so high and formidable that the
Turks did not attempt to board them.

Their heavy guns caused some damage and confusion in the Pacha’s line
of battle, but this appears to have been the only part they took in the
engagement, as they were too unwieldy to be brought up again.

The real action began on the Allies’ left wing, which the Viceroy
of Egypt was very desirous of turning. But the Venetian admiral, to
prevent that very thing, had closed well in with the coast. The
Viceroy, however, better acquainted with the soundings, saw that there
was room for him to pass, and dashed by, thereby doubling up his enemy.
Thus placed between two fires, the Christian left fought at very great
disadvantage. Many galleys were soon sunk, and several more were
captured by the Turks.

Barberigo, dashing into the heat of the fight, was wounded in the eye,
by an arrow, and was borne below. But his Venetians continued the fight
with unabated courage and fury, fighting for revenge, as well as for
glory.

On the extreme Christian right a similar movement was attempted by
Uluch Ali. With superior numbers he attempted to turn that wing; but
here he met that experienced and valiant seaman, Andrew Doria, who
foresaw the movement of Uluch, and promptly defeated it. The two best
seamen of the Mediterranean were here brought face to face. Doria, to
prevent being surrounded, extended his line so far to the right that
Don John was obliged to caution him not to expose the centre. Indeed,
he seriously weakened his own line, and the experienced Uluch instantly
detecting it, dashed down, sank several galleys, and captured the
great “Capitana,” of Malta. While the battle thus opened badly for the
Allies, on both wings, Don John led his division forward; at first with
indifferent success. His own chief object was to encounter Ali Pasha,
and the Turkish commander was also intent upon meeting him.

Their respective galleys were easily distinguished, from their size
and rich decoration, besides displaying, the one the great Ottoman
standard, the other the holy banner of the League.

The Ottoman standard was held to be very sacred. It was emblazoned in
gold, with texts from the Koran, and had the name of Allah repeated
28,900 times. The Sultans had passed it from father to son, ever since
the formation of the dynasty, and it was never seen unless the Grand
Signior or his lieutenant was in the field.

Both commanders urged forward their galleys, which soon shot ahead
of the lines, and the two closed with a fearful shock, so powerful
that the Pacha’s, which was the largest, was thrown upon that of his
antagonist so far that the prow reached the fourth bench of Don John’s
rowers.

As soon as those on board the two vessels recovered from the shock, the
carnage commenced.

Don John had three hundred Spanish arquebusiers, the flower of the
infantry. Ali had three hundred picked janizaries, and was followed by
a small vessel with two hundred more. He had also one hundred archers
on board; the bow being still much in use among the Turks.

The Pasha opened a terrible fire, which was returned with even greater
spirit by the Spaniards. The latter had bulwarks, which the Mussulmen
had not; and so the crowded janizaries presented an easy mark. Still,
they filled up the gaps from the reserve in the small vessel, and the
Spaniards wasted away under their fire. For a long time it was doubtful
to which side victory would incline.

This conflict was now complicated by the entrance of others. The
bravest on each side came to the aid of the two commanders, and each
leader at times found himself assailed by several enemies. They never
lost sight of each other, however, and after beating off lesser
assailants, returned to the single combat.

The fight was now general, and the movements of both fleets obscured by
clouds of smoke. Separate detachments desperately engaged each other,
without regard to what was going on in other quarters; and there were
few of the combinations and manœuvers of a great naval battle.

The galleys grappled each other, and soldiers, sailors and galley
slaves fought, hand to hand, boarding and repelling boarders, in turn.

There was enormous loss of life; the decks being encumbered with
the dead, and in some ships every man on board was either killed or
wounded. The blood flowed in torrents out of the scuppers, and the
waters of the gulf were stained for miles. Wrecks of vessels encumbered
the sea, with hulls shattered, masts gone, and thousands of wounded and
drowning clinging to spars, and crying vainly for help.

As we have already seen, Barberigo, with the Christian left wing, was
early in sore distress; Barberigo himself being mortally wounded, his
line turned, and several of his galleys being sunk or captured. But the
Venetians, in sheer despair, increased their efforts, and succeeded
in driving off their enemies. In turn they became the assailants, and
boarded Turk after Turk, putting the crews to the sword. They were led
to the assault by a Capuchin friar, crucifix in hand--as were many
other crews.

In some cases the Christian galley slaves of the Turkish vessels broke
their chains and joined their countrymen against their Moslem masters.

The galley of the Viceroy of Egypt was sunk, and he himself was killed
by John Contarini, the Venetians having no mercy for even a drowning
Turkish enemy. The death of their commander spread dismay among his
followers, and that division fled before the Venetians. Those nearest
the land ran on shore, escaping, and leaving their vessels to be
captured, and many perished before they could gain the land. Barberigo
lived to hear the news, and giving thanks, expired in the moment of
victory.

All this time the combat between the two commanders-in-chief had been
going on, with an incessant blaze of great guns and musketry, making
a cloud of smoke, riven by flame. Both parties fought with stubborn
courage. Twice the Spaniards had boarded, and twice had been repulsed
with severe loss. The enemy was continually reinforced, in spite of
the loss inflicted by the steady fire of the Spanish arquebusiers.
Occasionally interrupted, they always returned to each other; and both
commanders exposed themselves as fully as any soldier, there being no
honorable place of safety. Don John was slightly wounded in the foot,
but would not have it dressed. A third time his trumpets summoned the
boarders, and the Spaniards again boldly boarded the great Turkish
galley. They were met by Ali, at the head of his janizaries; but the
Ottoman leader was just then knocked senseless by a musket ball, and
his chosen troops, though fighting well, missed his voice and presence.
After a short but furious struggle they threw down their arms. Under
a heap of slain the body of Ali was found. Life was not extinct, but
he would at once have been dispatched had he not told the soldiers who
discovered him where his money and jewels were to be found. In their
haste to secure these, they left him lying upon the deck. Just then a
galley slave, who had been liberated and armed, severed the head of Ali
from his body, and carried it to Don John, on board his galley. Don
John was shocked at the sight, and, after a glance of horror and pity,
ordered it to be thrown into the sea. This was not done, however, but,
in revenge for Bragadino, it was placed upon a pike, while the crescent
banner was hauled down, and the cross run up in its place. The sight of
the sacred banner flying on board the captured flag-ship was welcomed
by the Christian fleet with shouts of victory, which rose above the
din of battle. The intelligence of the death of Ali was soon passed
along the line, cheering the Allies, and disheartening the Turks, whose
exertions diminished and whose fire slackened.

They were too far off to seek the shore, as their comrades on the right
had done, and they had either to fight or surrender. Most of them
preferred the latter, and their vessels were now carried by boarding,
or sunk by the Allies; and in four hours the centre of the Moslem
fleet, like their right wing, had been annihilated.

On the right of the Allies, however, Uluch Ali, the redoubted Algerine,
had cut Doria’s weakened line, and inflicted great damage and loss,
and would have done more but for the arrival of the reserve, under the
Marquis Santa Cruz. He had already assisted Don John when assailed by
overwhelming numbers, and had enabled him again to attack Ali.

Santa Cruz, seeing the critical condition of Doria, pushed forward to
his relief, supported by the Sicilian squadron. Dashing into the midst
of the mêlée, the two commanders fell like a thunder-bolt upon the
Algerine galleys, few of which attempted to withstand the shock; and
in their haste to avoid it, they were caught again by Doria and his
Genoese.

Beset on all sides, Uluch Ali was compelled to abandon his prizes and
seek safety in flight. He cut adrift his great prize, the Maltese
“Capitana,” which he had attached by a hawser to the stern of his
own vessel, and on board of which three hundred corpses attested the
desperate character of her defence.

As tidings reached him of the defeat of the centre, and of the death
of Ali Pasha, he felt that retreat alone was left for him, with as
many of his own ships as he could save from capture. His contingent
comprised the best vessels in the Turkish fleet, with crews in perfect
discipline and hardened to the sea, having always been corsairs, and
accustomed to scour the Mediterranean at all seasons.

Making signal for retreat, the Algerine made off, under all the sail
the battle had left him, and urged forward also by the exertions of
his Christian galley slaves, smarting under the blows of his enraged
_comites_.

Doria and Santa Cruz followed swiftly in his wake, but he managed to
distance them, and to carry off with him many of his ships. Don John
himself joined in the chase, having disposed of his own assailants, and
they finally managed to drive a few of the Algerine vessels upon the
rocks of a headland; but their crews in great part escaped. Uluch’s
escape was due to the fact that the rowers of the Christian fleet
had taken part in the battle, and while many were killed or wounded,
the remainder were much exhausted, while the Algerine galley slaves,
chained to their benches, and passive during much of the fight, were
comparatively fresh.

As already stated, the battle lasted more than four hours, and
before it was over the sky showed signs of a coming storm. Don John
reconnoitred the scene of action before seeking a shelter for himself
and his numerous prizes. Several vessels were found to be too much
damaged for further service, and as these were mostly prizes, he
ordered everything of value to be removed from them and the hulls
burned.

He then led his victorious fleet to the neighboring haven of Petala,
which was accessible and secure. Before he reached there the storm had
begun, while the late scene of battle was lighted up by the blazing
wrecks, throwing up streams of fire and showers of sparks.

The young commander-in-chief was now congratulated upon his signal
victory, by his companions in arms.

Officers and men recounted the various events of the day, and natural
exultation was mingled with gloom as they gained certain tidings of the
loss of friends who had bought this great success with their blood.

The loss of life had indeed been very great; greater by far than in any
modern sea fight. It is supposed that the Turks suffered most heavily,
but their loss was never known. It has been estimated at 25,000 killed
and drowned, and 5000 prisoners. It was, indeed, a crushing blow to
them.

To the victors great pleasure was given by the fact that at least
12,000 Christian slaves, who had been (some of them for many years)
chained to the oars of the Turkish galleys, were made free. Many of
them were hopelessly broken in health; but tears streamed down their
haggard cheeks at the prospect of dying in their own land and among
their own people.

The losses of the Allies, though very great, were as nothing compared
to that of the Moslem. About one thousand Romans and two thousand
Spaniards were killed, while the Venetians and Sicilians lost about
five thousand. This disparity of loss has been attributed to the
superiority of the Christians in the use of firearms. The Turks still
clung to the bow, and a large proportion of their fighting men were
thus armed. The Turks, moreover, were the vanquished party, and, as
is generally the case, suffered terribly in the pursuit. Their great
armada was almost annihilated, not more than forty of their galleys
escaping. One hundred and thirty were actually taken, and divided among
the conquerors; the remainder were either sunk or burned. The Allies
had about fifteen galleys sunk, and had many much damaged; but their
vessels were much better constructed and stronger than those of the
Turks, whom they also excelled in nautical evolutions.

An immense booty of gold, jewels and brocades was found on board the
prizes; it being said that Ali Pasha’s ship alone contained 170,000
gold sequins, or nearly $400,000, a very large sum for those days.

The number of persons of rank and consideration who embarked in the
expedition was very great, both among the Christians and the Moslem,
and many of these were slain. The second in command of the Venetian
force, the commander-in-chief of the Turkish fleet, and the commander
of his right wing, all fell in the battle. Many a high-born Christian
cavalier closed at Lepanto a long career of honorable service. On the
other hand many dated the commencement of their success in arms from
that day. Among these was Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma, who
became a great general, and whom we shall hear of again, in connection
with the Spanish Armada. Although only a few years younger than his
kinsman, Don John, he was making his first campaign as a private
adventurer. During the battle the galley in which he was embarked was
lying, yard arm and yard arm, alongside a Turkish galley, with which
she was hotly engaged. In the midst of the fight Farnese sprang on
board the enemy, hewing down with his Andrea Ferrara all who opposed
him, thus opening a path for his comrades, who poured in, one after
another, and after a bloody contest, captured the vessel. As Farnese’s
galley lay just astern of that of Don John, the latter witnessed, with
great pride and delight, the gallant deed of his nephew. Another youth
was at Lepanto, who, though then unknown, was destined to win greater
laurels than those of the battle field. This was Miguel de Cervantes,
then twenty-four years of age, and serving as a common soldier. He
had been ill of a fever, but on the morning of the battle insisted on
taking a very exposed post. Here he was wounded twice in the chest,
and once in the left hand, from which he lost its use. The right hand
served to write one of the most remarkable books ever known, Don
Quixote; and Cervantes always said that, for all his wounds, he would
not have missed the glory of being present on that memorable day.

A fierce storm raged for twenty-four hours after the battle of Lepanto,
but the fleet rode in safety at Petala; and it remained there four
days, during which Don John visited the different vessels, providing
for their repairs and for the wounded, and distributing honors among
those who had earned them. His kindly and generous disposition was not
only shown to his own people, but to the Turkish prisoners. Among these
were two young sons of Ali, the Moslem commander-in-chief. They had not
been on board his galley, and to their affliction at his death was now
added the doom of imprisonment.

Don John sent for them, and they prostrated themselves before him on
the deck; but he raised and embraced them, and said all he could to
console them, ordering them to be treated with the consideration due
to their rank. He also assigned them quarters, and gave them rich
apparel and a sumptuous table. A letter came from their sister, Fatima,
soliciting the freedom of her brothers and appealing to Don John’s well
known humanity. He had already sent a courier to Constantinople, to
convey the assurance of their safety. As was the custom then, Fatima
had sent with her letter presents of enormous value.

In the division of the spoils and slaves, the young Turkish princes had
been assigned to the Pope, but Don John succeeded in procuring their
liberation. Unfortunately, the elder, who was about seventeen, died at
Naples; but the younger, who was only thirteen, was sent home with his
attendants, and with him were sent the presents received from Fatima,
on the ground that the young commander-in-chief only granted free
favors.

Don John also made friends with the testy old Venetian admiral,
Veniero, with whom he had had a serious difficulty before the battle.

Veniero afterwards became Doge--the third of his family to reach that
eminence--which office he held until his death.

Before leaving Petala a council was held, to decide upon the next
operation of the fleet. Some were for an immediate attack upon
Constantinople; while others considered the fleet in no condition for
such an enterprise, and recommended that it be disbanded, go into
winter quarters, and renew operations in the spring.

Some agreed with Don John, that, before disbanding, they should do
something more. An attack upon Santa Maura was determined on; but on
reconnoitering, it was found to be too strong to be captured otherwise
than by siege.

A division of spoils among the Allies then took place. One-half of the
captured vessels, and of the artillery and small arms, was set apart
for the King of Spain. The other half was divided between the Pope and
the Republic of Venice; while the money and rich goods were distributed
among the officers and crews.

The fleet then dispersed; and Don John proceeded to Messina, where
great joy was felt, and immense fêtes awaited him; for he had been gone
from them only six weeks, and had, in the meantime, won the greatest
battle of modern times. The whole population flocked to the water side
to welcome the victorious fleet, which came back not without scars, but
bearing the consecrated banner still proudly aloft. In their rear were
the battered prizes, with their flags trailing ignominiously in the
water. There were music, garlands of flowers, triumphal arches, salvos
of artillery, a gorgeous canopy, and a _Te Deum_ in the Cathedral. A
grand banquet followed, when Don John was presented with 30,000 crowns
by the city, which also voted him a colossal statue in bronze. Don John
accepted the money, but only for the sick and wounded; and his own
share of booty from Ali’s galley he ordered to be distributed among his
own crew.

The news of Lepanto caused a great sensation throughout Christendom,
as the Turks had been considered invincible at sea. Upon the receipt
of the intelligence the Sultan Selim covered his head with dust, and
refused food for three days--while all Christendom was repeating, after
the sovereign Pontiff, “There was a man sent from God, whose name was
John.”

In Venice, which might be said to have gained a new lease of life from
the results of the battle, there were ceremonial rejoicings, and, by
public decree, the 7th of October was set apart forever as a national
anniversary.

In Naples the joy was great, as their coasts had been so often
desolated by Ottoman cruisers, and their people carried off as slaves.
So, when Santa Cruz returned he was welcomed as a deliverer from
bondage.

But even greater honors were paid to Colonna, in Rome. He was borne
in stately procession, and trophies were carried after him, with the
captives following, quite in the style of the old Roman triumphs.

Of course, the rejoicing in Spain did not fall short of that in the
other countries concerned.

The great Ottoman standard, the greatest trophy of the battle, was
deposited in the Escorial, where it was afterwards destroyed by fire.

When the victory was announced to Philip he was at prayer, which he
did not interrupt, and he pretended to receive the intelligence very
coolly. But he ordered illuminations and masses; and commanded Titian,
who was then in Madrid, and ninety years of age, to paint the “Victory
of the League,” still in the Museum of Madrid.

The Pope made every effort, by special ambassadors, to have the King
press the war, and to extend the alliance against the Turks.

But Philip was lukewarm, even cold, and said that, for his part, he
feared the Turks less than he did the Christian dissenters of Belgium,
England, and the Low Countries.

It has been said that Charles V would have followed his victory to the
gates of Constantinople, but the Duke of Alva thought that, Don John’s
force being a mixed one, he would not have succeeded unless supported
by the united force of Christendom, so great was the Moslem power at
that time.

The battle lost the Turks no territory, but broke the charm of
invincibility which they had possessed. Venice gained confidence, and
the Ottomans never again took the initiative against that State--while
those who have most carefully studied the history of the Ottoman Empire
date its decline from the battle of Lepanto.

[Illustration: THE ENGLISH FLEET FOLLOWING THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA.

(From the Tapestry in the House of Lords, destroyed in the fire at the
Houses of Parliament.)]

VI.

THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. A. D. 1588.

Armada signifies, in Spanish, a Sea Army; and Philip the Second named
the great fleet which he sent forth in 1588 “invincible,” because
he thought that it must prevail against the forces of the heretic
Hollanders and English, who excited his disgust and anger much more
than the Moslem enemies with whom we have seen him last engaged.

Philip II, son of Charles V, was born at Valladolid, in 1527, and, by
the abdication of his father, became King of Spain in 1556. His first
wife was Maria, of Portugal, and his second was Mary Tudor, daughter of
Henry VIII.

Philip was the most powerful prince of his time. Spain, Naples, Sicily,
the Milanais, Franche Comté, the Low Countries, Tunis, Oran, the Cape
Verdes, Canaries, and a great part of the Americas owned his sway.

Always a fanatic, as he advanced in years the extermination of heretics
became his one passion. He sent the pitiless Duke of Alva to the Low
Countries, where, however, all his cruelties and persecutions could not
prevent the spread of the Reformed religion. Fortunately for England,
as we shall see, the Low Countries secured their independence in 1581.

In Spain, Philip was employing the Inquisition against Moors and
heretics; and executions were depopulating the Peninsula and ruining
the country. It was only by serious insurrections that the Milanese
resisted the establishment of the Inquisition there; but to make up
for that, and for his loss of the Low Countries, Philip had made the
conquest of Portugal, and had extended to that country the practices of
Spain.

Elizabeth of England had not only established heretical practices
in her realm, but had executed Mary Stuart, and also added to her
offences, in his eyes, by sending sympathy and assistance to the
persecuted Flemings.

Brooding over these things, in his secret, silent way, Philip
determined to invade England, reëstablish Catholicism, and avenge the
Queen of Scots.

To this end he devoted some years to the assembling of the most
tremendous fleet which the world, up to that time, had seen.

The Spanish nobility were encouraged to join in this new crusade, and
responded to the invitation in crowds. The ships, collectively, were to
carry more than three thousand guns. A Vicar-General of the Inquisition
was to accompany the fleet, and establish the Inquisition in England;
and it has been affirmed that complete sets of instruments of torture
were also taken.

The Duke of Parma, with a large army, was to join the Armada from
Belgium, and insure the conquest. This, we shall see, was prevented
by the noble and faithful conduct of Holland, which, in spite of
legitimate cause of complaint against England, in the recent design of
the Earl of Leicester, came nobly to the rescue, and blockaded Parma,
so that he and his troops were rendered unavailable. But for this,
and some mistakes of the naval commanders, in all probability English
history would have been very different. Many reports of the expedition
had reached England, but just about the time it was ready Elizabeth’s
fears had been lulled by the prospect of successful negotiations, and
many of her advisers thought the threatened expedition would never
approach English shores.

Elizabeth, fortunately for England, had revived the navy, as well as
the merchant service, which had been so greatly neglected between the
death of her father and her own accession.

The wealthier nobles and citizens, encouraged by the queen, built many
men-of-war, and the Royal navy was soon able to take the sea with
20,000 fighting men.

The prudence and foresight of the queen in these measures was rewarded
by the success of her seamen in disposing of a force such as had
hardly ever been arrayed against any country, by sea. Philip, “who
from his closet in Madrid aspired to govern the world,” and who hated
Protestantism with so great a hatred that he declared “if his own son
was a heretic he would carry wood to burn him,” had good and devoted
soldiers to carry out his views. The Duke of Alva was inconceivably
cold-blooded and cruel, yet he was a man of great ability. No more
perfect chevalier and enlightened soldier existed than the young Don
John, whose career was so short; and the famous Duke of Parma, the
greatest general of the day, was to command the army of invasion; while
the Duke of Medina Sidonia, one of the highest grandees of Spain, was a
most gallant soldier. He was no seaman, and was surrounded by a staff
of soldiers, or else there might have been a different story to tell
of Philip’s Armada. But that does not detract from the Duke’s personal
devotion and gallantry; and the expedition was accompanied by hundreds
of officers of like personal character.

In regard to the Armada and its destination, Philip at first preserved
the secrecy which was so consonant with his nature; but at last,
when publicity could no longer be avoided, he had every dock-yard and
arsenal in his dominions resounding with the hum and noise of a busy
multitude, working day and night, to provide the means necessary to
accomplish his purpose. New ships were built, and old ones repaired;
while immense quantities of military stores were forwarded to the
Netherlands, a convenient base of supplies for the invaders.

The New World was then pouring its treasures into Philip’s coffers,
the product of the enslavement of whole nations, and this immense
wealth Philip poured out in turn, lavishly, to accomplish his darling
ambition, which was the subjection of all that remained free in the Old
World.

“Rendezvous for the shipment of seamen were opened in every seaport
town; while throughout Philip’s vast dominions there was not a hamlet
so insignificant, or a cottage so lowly, but that the recruiting
sergeant made his way to it, in his eagerness to raise troops for the
grand army, which, blessed by the Pope, and led by the famous Duke of
Parma, was destined, it was confidently believed, to march in triumph
through the streets of London, and, by one sweeping _auto-da-fé_,
extirpate heresy from that accursed land which every Spanish Catholic
was taught to regard as the stronghold of the devil.”

“Volunteers of every degree, and from every corner of Europe, hastened
to enlist under the banner of Castile. Of these, many were religious
bigots, impelled to the crusade against English heretics by fanatic
zeal; a few, men of exalted character, not unknown to fame; but by far
the greater number, needy adventurers, seeking for spoil. At length,
in April, 1588, after nearly three years of preparation, the army of
invasion, 60,000 strong, was concentrated at Dunkirk and Nieuport,
where large, flat-bottomed transports were built, ready for its
reception.

“But still the Armada, that was to convoy the transports, and cover the
landing of the troops on their arrival in England, loitered in Lisbon,
waiting for a favorable wind. Toward the end of May it moved out of
the Tagus by detachments, and passing the dangerous shoals called the
Cachopos in safety, took its departure from Cape Roca, the westernmost
point of Portugal, and of the continent of Europe, on June 1st, sailing
due north, with a light southwesterly breeze. The fleet consisted in
all of one hundred and thirty-two vessels, carrying 3165 guns, 21,639
soldiers, 8745 seamen, and 2088 galley slaves; and its aggregate burden
was not less than 65,000 tons.”

The San Martin, a vessel of fifty guns, belonging to the contingent
furnished by Portugal, carried the flag of the commander-in-chief, the
Duke de Medina Sidonia, already mentioned.

This great Armada was very unwieldy, and contained many dull sailers,
so that, making its way at the average rate of only about thirteen
miles a day, it passed the Berlingas, crept by Figuera, Oporto and
Vigo, and finally lay becalmed off Cape Finisterre. Up to this time
the winds, if baffling, had been moderate, the weather pleasant, and
the sea smooth as glass. But now the Spanish fleet was assailed by
a tempest, which might be called fearful, even in the stormy Bay of
Biscay.

Blowing at first fitfully, and in heavy squalls, it by nightfall
settled into a steady gale from west-northwest, driving before it a
tremendous sea, the surges of which broke with a roar distinctly heard
above the fierce howling of the wind. Yet, though the sea ran high, it
was not irregular, and the Armada, under snug canvas, was making good
weather of it, when, a little after midnight, the wind shifted very
suddenly to northeast, blowing with the violence of a tornado, and
taking every ship under square sail flat aback. Some of the vessels,
gathering sternboard, lost their rudders, which were in that day very
insecure; some, thrown on their beam-ends, were forced to cut away
their masts and throw overboard their guns; while all lost sails and
top-hamper, and not a few the upper deck cabins, at that time so lofty.

When day broke the spectacle was presented of a whole fleet helplessly
adrift upon the ocean. Many of the largest and finest vessels were
lying in the trough of the sea, which every now and then made a clean
breach over them, each time carrying off some of the crews. Among the
fleet was a huge Portuguese galley, the Diana, which had been knocked
down by the shift of wind, lost her masts and oars, and was lying on
her side, gradually filling with water, and fast settling by the stern.
The rest of the vessels were powerless to assist her, and she soon
sank before their eyes, carrying down every soul belonging to her,
including, of course, the poor galley slaves chained to her oars.

Then, to add to the horrors of storm and shipwreck, a mutiny broke out
among the rowers of the galley Vasana (a motley crew of Turkish and
Moorish prisoners and Christian felons), who had been long watching for
an opportunity to secure their freedom; and now, seeing their galley
to windward of all the vessels of the Armada, with the exception of
the Capitana galley, which was a mile away from them, they judged the
occasion favorable for the accomplishment of their purpose. Led by
a Welshman, named David Gwynne, the mutinous galley-slaves attacked
the sailors and soldiers of the Vasana, and as they exceeded them in
number, and the free men had no time to seize their arms, while the
slaves were armed with stilettoes made of all kinds of metal, and
carefully concealed for such an occasion, they quite easily prevailed.
The captain of the Capitana, seeing that something was wrong on board
the Vasana, ran down as close to her as the heavy sea would permit,
and, finding her already in possession of the Welshman and his
fellow galley-slaves, poured a broadside into her, which cut her up
terribly, and filled her decks with more killed and wounded men. At
this critical moment, while engaged with an enemy without, the crew
of the Capitana found themselves threatened with a greater danger
from within. Their own slaves now rose, broke their chains, and took
part in the engagement. It is not known whether they had any previous
knowledge of an attempt on board the Vasana, or whether it was the
effect of example. At any rate, they rushed upon their late masters and
oppressors with such weapons as they had concealed, or could seize at
the moment, and attacked them with desperate and irresistible fury and
resolution. The struggle, in the midst of the gale, for the possession
of the Capitana, was furious but brief. It ended in the triumph of the
galley-slaves, who, like their fellows on board the Vasana, spared no
rank nor age. The massacre was soon over, and the bodies thrown into
the water; and the gale soon after abating, the galleys were run into
Bayonne, where, Motley says, Gwynne was graciously received by Henry of
Navarre. The crippled Armada, having lost three of its finest galleys,
managed to creep into the different ports on the northern shore of
Spain.

Once more they all made rendezvous at Corunna, and after a month spent
in repairs, sailed again, on July 22d, for Calais Roads.

With fair winds and fine weather, the Spanish fleet struck soundings
in the English channel on July 28th, and the following day, in the
afternoon, were in sight of the Lizard, whence they were seen and
recognized, and soon, by bonfires, and other preconcerted signals, all
England knew that the long threatened danger was close at hand; and,
without faltering, one and all prepared to meet it.

The most of the English fleet was in Plymouth at the time. Many of
the principal officers were on shore, playing at bowls, and otherwise
amusing themselves, and the wind was blowing directly into the harbor,
preventing the fleet from pulling to sea. But the commander-in-chief,
Lord Howard of Effingham, was equal to the emergency; summoning all to
instant exertion; and before daylight the following morning sixty-seven
of his best ships had been, with extreme labor and difficulty, towed
and kedged into deep water, and, commanded by such men as Drake,
Frobisher, and Hawkins, were off the Eddystone, keeping a sharp lookout
for the Spaniards. Every hour additional vessels were joining the
English fleet.

During the whole forenoon the wind was very light, and the weather
thick; but towards evening a fine south-west wind set in, and the mist
rising, the two fleets discovered each other.

The Armada, in a half-moon, and in complete battle array, was so
compactly drawn up that its flanking vessels were distributed but seven
miles from each other; and all were bearing steadily up channel. The
Spanish guns were so numerous, and so much heavier in calibre than
anything the English carried, that the Lord High Admiral saw at once
that the force at his command could not successfully confront the
enemy. He therefore permitted them to pass without firing a shot; but
hung closely upon their rear, in hopes of cutting off any vessels which
might chance to fall astern of the others. It was not until the next
day, Sunday, July 31st, that an opportunity offered for attacking to
advantage. Then, “sending a pinnace, called the Defiance, before him,
to denounce war against the enemy, by the discharge of all her guns,”
Howard at once opened fire from his own ship, the Royal Oak, upon a
large galleon, commanded by Don Alphonso de Leyva, which he took to be
the flag-ship of the Spanish commander-in-chief.

In the meantime, the combined squadrons of Drake, Frobisher and Hawkins
opened furiously upon the fleet of Biscay, or of northern Spain, which,
consisting of fourteen vessels, and carrying 302 guns, was commanded by
Vice-admiral Recalde, an officer of great experience. This squadron had
been formed into a rear guard, in expectation of just such an attack.

Recalde maintained the unequal fight for some hours, and with great
obstinacy; all the while endeavoring to get within small-arm range of
the English, which he knew would be fatal to them, as he had a large
force of arquebusiers embarked in his division.

But his wary antagonists, whose vessels, “light, weatherly and nimble,
sailed six feet to the Spaniards’ two, and tacked twice to their once,”
evaded every effort to close, and keeping at long range, inflicted much
damage upon their enemy without receiving any themselves.

At length, seeing how matters stood, the Duke Medina Sidonia signaled
to Recalde to join the main body of the fleet; and, hoisting the Royal
standard of Spain at his main, drew out his whole force in order
of battle, and endeavored to bring on a general engagement. This
Howard prudently avoided, and so the Spaniards had to keep on their
course again, up channel, and “maintain a running fight of it;” the
English now, as before, hanging on their rear, and receiving constant
reinforcements from their seaport towns, in full view of which, as the
Armada hugged the English shore, Howard, with his gallant ships and
men, was passing.

In these days London alone sent forth fifty armed ships.

The night which followed was one fraught with disaster to the
Spaniards. The gunner of the Santa Anna, a Fleming by birth, who had
been reprimanded by his captain for some neglect of duty, in revenge
laid a train to the magazine, and blew up all the after part of the
vessel, with more than half her officers and crew.

The vessel nearest the Santa Anna hurried to her assistance, and was
engaged in rescuing the survivors, when, in the darkness and confusion,
two galleys fell foul of the flagship of the Andalusian squadron, and
carried away her foremast close to the deck, so that she dropped astern
of the Armada, and, the night being very dark, was soon lost sight of
by her friends, and assailed by her vigilant foes.

Being well manned, and carrying fifty guns, she maintained her defence
until daylight, when, finding the English hemming her in on all sides,
Don Pedro de Valdez, the Admiral, struck his flag to Drake, in the
Revenge, much to the chagrin of Frobisher and Hawkins, who had hoped to
make prize of her themselves.

Don Pedro, who was courteously received by Drake, remained on board the
Revenge until the 10th of August; so that he was an eye witness of all
the subsequent events, and of the final discomfiture of his countrymen.

Drake sent the captain of the Santa Anna, “a prisoner, to Dartmouth,
and left the money on board the prize, to be plundered by his men.”

All the following day was spent by the Duke in rearranging his fleet;
and after the vessels were in the stations assigned them, each captain
had written orders not to leave that station, under penalty of death.

In this new order the rear guard was increased to forty-three vessels,
and placed under the command of Don Alphonso de Leyva, who had orders
to avoid skirmishing as much as possible, but to lose no opportunity of
bringing on a general engagement, or decisive battle.

On the 2d of August, at daylight, the wind shifted to the northeast,
whereupon the Spanish, being to windward, bore down upon the English
under full sail. But the latter also squared away, and having the
advantage of greater speed, refused, as before, to allow their enemy
to close with them; so the engagement was without result, there being
little loss on the part of the Spaniards, while the only Englishman
killed was a Mr. Cock, who was bravely fighting the enemy in a small
vessel of his own.

Towards evening the wind backed to the west again, and the Armada once
more continued its course toward Calais.

On the 3d of August there was a suspension of hostilities, and the Lord
High Admiral received a supply of powder and ball, and a reinforcement
of ships, and intended to attack the enemy in the middle of the night,
but was prevented by a calm.

On the 4th, however, a straggler from the Spanish fleet was made prize
of by the English.

This brought on a sharp engagement between the Spanish rear guard and
the English advance, under Frobisher, which would have resulted in
Frobisher’s capture had not Howard himself gone to the rescue, in the
“Ark-Royal, followed by the Lion, the Bear, the Bull, the Elizabeth,
and a great number of smaller vessels.” The fighting was for some time
severe, but as soon as Frobisher was relieved, Howard, observing that
the Duke was approaching, with the main body of the Spanish fleet,
prudently gave the order to retire. It was, indeed, high time, for the
Ark-Royal was so badly crippled that she had to be towed out of action.

The Lord High Admiral afterwards knighted Lord Thomas Howard, Lord
Sheffield, Townsend, Hawkins and Frobisher, for their gallantry on this
occasion; but a convincing proof that the English had the worst of it
in the encounter is the determination of a council of war “not to make
any further attempt upon the enemy until they should be arrived in the
Straits of Dover, where the Lord Henry Seymour and Sir William Winter
were lying in wait for them.”

So the Armada kept on its way, unmolested, and with a fair wind, past
Hastings and Dungeness, until it got to the north of the Varne, an
extensive shoal in the Channel.

Then it left the English coast, and hauled up for Calais Road, where it
anchored on the afternoon of Saturday, August 6th, close in to shore,
with the Castle bearing from the centre of the fleet due east.

The English followed, and anchored two miles outside. Strengthened by
the accession of Seymour’s and Winter’s squadron, they now numbered
one hundred and forty sail--many of them large ships, but the majority
small.

Every day since he had been in the Channel the Spanish
commander-in-chief had despatched a messenger to the French coast, to
proceed by land, and warn the Duke of Parma of the approach of the
Armada, and to impress upon him the necessity of his being ready to
make his descent upon England the moment the fleet reached Calais; and
especially he desired Parma to send him, at once, pilots for the French
and Flemish coasts, which those in the fleet had no knowledge of. To
his bitter disappointment, on reaching Calais he found no preparation
of any kind, and none of his requests complied with. All that night,
and all day of August 7th, the vast Armada lay idly at anchor, vainly
watching for the coming of Parma’s army, and not knowing that its
egress from Nieuport and Dunkirk was a simple impossibility, since the
fleets of Holland and Zealand were in full possession of all the narrow
channels between Nieuport and Hils Banks and the Flemish shore; and
Parma had not a single vessel of war to oppose to them.

On the evening of the 7th the appearance of the weather caused great
anxiety to the seamen of the Armada, the sun setting in a dense bank of
clouds, and they realized, much more fully than the soldiers on board,
the insecurity of their anchorage; as a northwest gale, likely to rise
at any moment, would drive them upon the treacherous quicksands of the
French coast.

While this apprehension was troubling the seamen of the Armada, the
English were fearful least Parma’s transports, eluding the vigilance
of the Dutch cruisers, should suddenly heave in sight. But, as the
evening drew on, and they observed the threatening sky, and heard the
increasing surf upon the shore, both of which boded a storm, they
became reassured. A little before midnight of the 7th, the weather
being very thick, and a strong current setting towards the Spanish
fleet, the English prepared to send in among them eight fire-ships,
which they had prepared as soon as they found the enemy anchored
close together. The English captains Young and Prowse towed them
in, directing their course, and firing them with great coolness
and judgment. A great panic resulted among the Spaniards, for they
knew that the English had in their service an Italian, who, three
years before, had created great havoc and destruction at Antwerp, by
ingenious floating torpedoes or mines, and they no sooner saw the
fire-ships, “all alight with flame, from their keelsons to their
mast-heads,” and bearing down upon them, than they imagined Giannibelli
and his infernal machines in their midst. Shouts of “we are lost!”
passed through the fleet, but in the midst of the panic the Duke de
Medina Sidonia (who had been warned by Philip to be on his guard lest
the dreaded Drake should burn his vessels) maintained his composure.
He at once made the signal agreed upon, to cut cables and stand clear
of the danger; and the Armada was soon under sail, and out of harm’s
way from fire. But the fright and confusion had been so great that,
next morning, when the Duke wished to rally his fleet and return to his
anchorage, many ships were out of signal distance, some far at sea, and
others among the shoals of the coast of Flanders.

The 8th of August dawned with squally, southwest weather, and the
English observed some of the Spanish vessels to be crippled, and
drifting to leeward, while the San Lorenzo, flag-ship of the squadron
of galleasses (the class of large vessels which had contributed so much
to the victory of Lepanto), was endeavoring to get into the harbor of
Calais. Her rudder was gone, and, although her rowers were endeavoring
to keep her in the narrow channel leading to the town, she yawed widely
across it, and finally grounded on a sand bank near the town. In this
position she was attacked by the boats of the English fleet, and after
a stubborn resistance, in which many fell on both sides, was boarded
and carried. The Govenor of Calais claimed her as of right pertaining
to him, and the English, just then not caring to quarrel with the
French, gave her up to him, but not before they had plundered her.

The boat expedition no sooner returned, than Howard bore up for the
Armada, the bulk of which was then off Gravelines, sailing in double
Echelon, with flanks protected “by the three remaining galleasses,
and the great galleons of Portugal.” The Duke Medina Sidonia at once
hauled by the wind, with signal flying for close action, and the Royal
standard at his fore. But the English had speed, handiness, and the
weather gauge in their favor, and were enabled, as before, to choose
their own distance, and after a desultory fight of six hours, the Duke
(finding he was losing men, and had three of his best ships sunk, as
many more put hors-de-combat, and having exhausted his shot, without
a chance of bringing Howard within boarding distance, or of Parma’s
coming out to join him) telegraphed to the fleet “to make its way to
Spain, north about the British Isles,” and then himself kept away for
the North Sea.

The sands of Zealand threatened him on one hand, and the hardy English
seamen on the other; and with these odds against him, the proud
Spaniard had no resource left but to retreat.

That night it blew a strong breeze from the north, and the next day
some of the Spanish vessels were in great danger from the Dutch shoals,
but a shift of wind saved them.

The English kept close after them until August 12th, when, being
themselves short of provisions and ammunition, they came by the wind,
and stood back for their own shores, where, of course, the intelligence
they brought caused great joy, after the narrow escape from invasion.

An intelligent officer, Commodore Foxhall A. Parker, United States
Navy, commenting upon these actions, says, “it has been asserted that
Medina Sidonia so dreaded the passage around the grim Hebrides that
he was upon the point of surrender to Howard, when he last approached
him, but was dissuaded from doing so by the Ecclesiastics on board his
vessel; but this story, as well as one told by the Spanish soldiers
who were taken prisoners in the fight of August 8th, and who wished
to curry favor with their captors, that this fight ‘far exceeded the
battle of Lepanto,’ may be safely classed with the marvelous relations
of the ‘intelligent contraband,’ and the ‘reliable gentleman just
from Richmond,’ so often brought to the front during the great civil
war in America. Why, indeed, should the Duke have surrendered to a
force unable to fire a shot at him, and which, had it ventured within
boarding distance of the Armada, must have inevitably fallen into his
hands? Was not the Saint Matthew, when assailed in a sorely crippled
condition by a whole squadron, defended for two long hours? And did
not several Spanish vessels, refusing to strike when they were in a
sinking condition, go down with their colors flying? Was, then, the
Commander-in-chief less courageous than his subordinates? Let the
truth be told. Medina Sidonia, from his want of experience at sea, was
utterly disqualified to command the great fleet entrusted to his care;
but Spain possessed no braver man than he.”

The history of the Armada, after Howard left it, is one of shipwreck
and disaster. Many of its vessels foundered at sea, and many more
were lost on the rocky coasts of Scotland and Ireland; and the crews
of some, who managed to reach the land, were massacred by the savage
inhabitants of the west of Ireland.

Few of the leaders lived to return to their native land, and there was
hardly a family in Spain that was not in mourning.

Upon learning of the disaster Philip affected great calmness, and
merely remarked, “I did not send my fleet to combat the tempest, and I
thank God, who has made me able to repair this loss.”

But, in spite of that, his disappointment was terrible, and in his
fierce and savage resentment at the depression of his people he
cut short all mourning by proclamation. A merchant of Lisbon, who
imprudently allowed himself to express some joy at the defeat of the
conqueror of his nation, was hanged by order of Philip--so that, as
Motley says, “men were reminded that one could neither laugh nor cry in
Spanish dominions.”

In other parts of Europe great joy was felt, for both England and the
Continent were delivered from the nightmare of universal empire and the
Inquisition. Well might England rejoice, and proceed to build up a more
powerful navy.

The Spanish marine was irretrievably wrecked, and never again rose to
its former position; and the loss of the preponderance of Spain in
European affairs began at this time.

The commander first selected for the Armada, Alvaro de Bazan, a fine
seaman, died just before it left Lisbon. He would, no doubt, have
handled it better than Medina Sidonia; and he certainly would have
attacked the wind-bound English fleet in Plymouth, in spite of orders,
and if he had done so would probably have destroyed it.

Philip had disregarded the advice of Parma and Santa Cruz, experienced
soldiers, to secure a point in Flanders, before attacking England; and
he erred in binding down Medina Sidonia not to take the initiative and
attack the English fleet until he had been joined by Parma’s transports.

We may add a few words concerning Philip II. He survived the loss of
his Armada ten years; having succeeded in making his memory thoroughly
odious. Philip was gifted with high capacity, but was sombre,
inflexible and bloody minded. He was at the same time vindictive,
pusillanimous and cruel; full of joy at an _auto-da-fè_, while he
trembled during a battle. To sanguinary fanaticism he added violence
of temper almost bestial in its exhibition. He was close and deceptive
in politics--always covering himself and his designs with the mask of
religion. He seemed, indeed, not to have a human heart in his breast;
and yet he had a taste for the fine arts--loving painting, but even
better, architecture, in which latter he was learned. He finished the
Escorial and beautified Madrid, which he made the capital of Spain.

Besides the foregoing his sole pleasure was the chase; while, unlike
his father, he was generous to those who served him, and very sober in
living and simple in dress.

[Illustration: A SPANISH GALLEASS OF THE 16TH CENTURY.]

[Illustration: EVENTS SUCCEEDING THE ARMADA.--SIR FRANCIS DRAKE IN
CENTRAL AMERICA.]

VII.

SOME NAVAL EVENTS OF ELIZABETH’S TIME, SUCCEEDING THE ARMADA.

The signal discomfiture of the Armada caused, in England, an
enthusiastic passion for enterprises against Spain; and this was
fostered by the unusual good fortune of English adventurers, especially
in their attacks upon the commerce and colonies of the Spanish.

Don Antonio, of Portugal, having advanced a claim to the crown of that
country, then held by Spain, an expedition was undertaken, in England,
to conquer that country for him. Nearly 20,000 volunteers enlisted, and
ships were hired and arms and provisions provided by the adventurers.
The frugal Queen only contributed to the enterprise some £60,000 and
six of her ships. Sir Francis Drake and Sir John Norris were at the
head of it, and if they had not allowed themselves to be drawn off from
the main object of their enterprise to attack a Spanish fleet, fitting
at the Groyne for another invasion of England, it is quite probable
that Lisbon would have been taken by a _coup-de-main_. In consequence
of their delay Lisbon was too strongly defended, and the English fleet
was obliged to retire. After taking and burning Vigo they returned to
England, having lost more than half their number by sickness, famine,
fatigue, and wounds. This was, indeed, usually the case with the
maritime adventurers of that day, the losses from illness alone being
perfectly frightful.

As this expedition was returning another was going out, under the Earl
of Cumberland, all the ships, except one man-of-war sent by the Queen,
being equipped at his own expense. Cumberland went to the Terceras and
took many Spanish prizes, but the richest one, a galleon, was lost on
the Cornish coast, in the attempt to reach England. Attempting to seize
the Islands, Cumberland met with a bloody repulse, losing nearly half
his men, and a great mortality seizing upon the survivors, left him
hardly men enough to steer his ships back into a home harbor.

But all these maritime expeditions, whether successful or not, had a
good effect in keeping the Spaniards in check, as well as in keeping up
the spirit and nautical ability of the English.

At a later period, when Elizabeth was assisting Henri Quatre, in
France, against the Duke of Parma and the League, she employed her
naval power very freely against Philip, and endeavored at all times to
intercept his West Indian treasure ships, the source of that greatness
which rendered him so formidable to all his neighbors.

Among other operations she sent Lord Thomas Howard, with a squadron of
seven ships, upon this service. But Philip, informed of her intentions,
fitted out a great fleet of fifty-five sail, and despatched them to
escort home the fleet of galleons from the West Indies.

The Queen’s seven ships, commanded by Howard, were the Defiance, the
Revenge, the Nonpareil, Bonaventure, Lion, Foresight, and Crane. They
are said to have been miserably fitted out. Howard went to the Azores,
and anchoring at Flores, there waited six months for the approach of
the treasure ships, which were inconceivably slow and deliberate in
their passages. In the meantime Don Alphonso Bassano, the commander
of the Spanish escort fleet, hearing of the small English force at
Flores, determined to attack it. The English squadron was at the
time unprepared, beside having much sickness on board. Howard put to
sea hurriedly, leaving many men on shore, and was attacked by the
whole Spanish fleet. The brunt of the engagement which followed was
principally borne by the Revenge, commanded by Sir Richard Grenville.
The fight began about three o’clock in the afternoon, and continued
until after daylight the next morning.

The Revenge was laid on board at one and the same time by the St.
Philip, of 1500 tons and 78 guns, and four others of the Spanish
men-of-war of the largest size, and filled with soldiers. The enemy
boarded no less than fifteen times during the night, and were as often
repulsed, although they continually shifted their vessels, and boarded
with fresh men. The gallant Grenville was wounded early in the action,
but refused to quit the deck. About midnight, however, he was wounded
by a musket ball, which passed through his body. He was then carried
below to have his wound dressed, but while under the surgeon’s hands,
was again wounded in the head, and the surgeon was killed by his side
while attending to his wounds.

The gallant crew held out till daylight, by which time the ship was
a mere wreck, and out of an original crew of 103, forty were killed,
and almost all the rest wounded. The ammunition was expended in the
long and constant firing, and most of their small arms were broken and
useless. In this condition nothing remained but surrender. But Sir
Richard proposed to trust to the mercy of God, rather than that of the
Spaniards, and to destroy themselves with the ship, rather than yield.
The master gunner and many of the seamen agreed to this, but others
opposed it, and obliged Grenville to surrender as a prisoner. They
refused to strike, however, until they were promised their liberty, and
the Spaniards assenting, the ship was at last surrendered.

This was the first English man-of-war that the Spaniards had ever
taken, but she was not doomed to be exhibited as a trophy, for she
foundered a few days afterward, with two hundred of the Spanish prize
crew which had been placed on board of her. It is said that it cost the
Spaniards a thousand lives to capture the Revenge.

Sir Richard Grenville was carried on board the Spanish admiral’s ship,
where he died, two days after, impressing his enemies very much by his
extraordinary behavior and courage. His last words were: “Here die I,
Richard Grenville, with a joyful and quiet mind; for I have ended my
life as a true soldier ought to do, fighting for his country, queen,
religion and honor. My soul willingly departing from this body, leaving
behind the everlasting fame of having behaved as every valiant soldier
is in his duty bound to do.”

In the meantime the treasure ships had been detained so long at Havana,
for fear of the English cruisers, that they were obliged to sail at an
improper season, and most of them were lost at sea before they reached
Spanish harbors.

In 1592 an expedition under Sir Martin Frobisher, consisting of two
men-of-war belonging to the Queen, and others fitted by Frobisher and
Sir Walter Raleigh, made a cruise on the coast of Spain, and took many
Spanish ships. Among them was a carrack, called Madre de Dios, of which
a description is given, and which must have been a most extraordinary
vessel, more like a floating castle or tower than a ship. “She had
seven decks, of 165 feet from stem to stern, was of 1600 tons burden,
manned with 600 men, and carried thirty-two brass guns. Her cargo was
valued at £150,000 on her arrival in England, besides what the officers
and seamen had plundered her of when taken.” This was an immense sum
for those times, and an extraordinary booty to be taken in a single
ship.

The Queen’s adventure in this cruise was only two ships, one of which,
the least of the two, was at the taking of the carrack Madre de Dios;
in virtue of which she assumed power over the whole of the valuable
cargo, taking what portion of it she pleased, and making the rest of
the adventurers submit to her pleasure in the matter. She is said to
have dealt with them rather indifferently, taking the lion’s share.

In 1594 the brave and skillful Admiral Sir Martin Frobisher was
lost to his country. He had been sent with the Vanguard, Rainbow,
Dreadnought, and Acquittance, to aid the French in the attack upon
Brest, which important naval station was then held by the Spaniards.
The Admiral entered the harbor with his ships, and attacked the forts
most vigorously. But the place was well defended, and the attacking
party suffered serious loss. At length the forts surrendered, and the
garrison was put to the sword.

Sir Martin Frobisher was wounded in the hip by a grape shot, and died
soon after he had brought his squadron safely home.

The accounts of the English naval enterprises of the latter part of
Elizabeth’s reign read like romance. These enterprises, often entirely
of a private nature, though sanctioned by the State, were a curious
mixture of chivalrous search for glory and of the grasping love of
lucre of a freebooter or pirate.

In 1594 Richard Hawkins, son of the celebrated navigator, Sir John,
made an unsuccessful raid upon the Spanish possessions in the South
Seas, by way of the Straits of Magellan. And in the same year James
Lancaster was sent by some London merchants to South America, with
a squadron, and took thirty-nine Spanish ships. He also attacked
and captured, against great odds, the very rich city of Pernambuco,
destroying his boats after his men had landed, so as to force them to
fight or to be slaughtered. He returned safely to England, with an
immense booty.

In 1595, Sir Walter Raleigh took a fleet in search of the gold mines
of Guiana, and ascended the Oronoco in boats. He suffered immense loss
in battle and by disease, and found nothing of what he went in search
for. His account of his adventures is most marvelous, and has long been
known to be drawn principally from his imagination.

In the same year, Sir Francis Drake and Sir John Hawkins, with six
men-of-war of the Queen’s and twenty others, proceeded on an expedition
against the Spanish settlements in Central America. They first attacked
Porto Rico, where they were repulsed with very serious loss, and
Hawkins soon after died. Drake then resolved to go to Nombre de Dios,
on the Isthmus of Darien, whence he made an attempt to cross the
isthmus to Panama. But the resistance of the Spaniards, coupled with
the difficulties of the region and the climate, all proved too great
even for this seasoned adventurer, and the exposure, vexation and
disappointment so worked upon him that he died. Sir Thomas Baskerville
took command of the expedition, and after an indecisive fight with a
Spanish fleet, returned home empty-handed.

Philip II being known to be making preparations for another invasion
of England, a powerful English fleet was equipped at Plymouth,
consisting of one hundred and seventy vessels, seventeen of which
were first-rate men-of-war. Twenty ships were added to these by
the Hollanders. This fleet was commanded by the High Admiral, Lord
Effingham, while Elizabeth’s favorite, the Earl of Essex, commanded
the troops embarked. Many of the first men of England were either
commanders or serving as volunteers.

The fleet sailed from Plymouth on the first of June, 1596, with a fair
wind, with orders to rendezvous off Cadiz. Fast vessels sent in advance
intercepted all traders, and the fleet found the Spaniards unsuspicious
of any attack, and the port full of men-of-war and richly laden
merchantmen.

After a fruitless attack at St. Sebastians, it was resolved to take
the fleet into the bay and attack the Spanish shipping. The Admiral
did not look upon this plan with much favor, conceiving it to be rash,
but at last it was determined upon, so much to Essex’s joy that he
is said to have thrown overboard his richly jeweled cap, on hearing
the decision of the council of war. His joy was much moderated when
he heard that Effingham had orders from the Queen not to allow him to
lead in the attack, as he was not to be exposed. Sir Walter Raleigh and
Lord Thomas Howard were appointed to lead, but when the fight began
Essex forgot his orders, and pressed into the thickest of the fire. The
English had great incentives to do well. The nobles were emulous for
glory, while all were incited by the prospect of great plunder, and by
animosity against their old enemy, the Spaniards. The English fleet
attacked with such ardor that the Spaniards were soon obliged to slip
their cables, and, retreating to the bottom of the bay, run on shore.
Essex landed his men, and carried the city, sword in hand. After the
place was taken, he is said to have stopped the slaughter usual on such
occasions, and to have treated his prisoners with great humanity.

The English fell into a great amount of plunder, but a much richer
booty was lost by the burning of the fleet and the merchantmen, which
was ordered by the Spanish Admiral, the Duke de Medina Sidonia. Thus
was immense loss caused to Spain, not to speak of the humiliation of
that proud nation at seeing one of her principal cities in the hands of
the hated heretics.

In 1597 Spain was busy collecting ships and troops at Ferrol, for the
purpose of a descent upon Ireland. Elizabeth at once put the Earl of
Essex in command of a fleet, with Sir W. Raleigh, Lord Thomas Howard
and Lord Mountjoy, as commanders, while many of the first nobility
embarked as volunteers.

This fleet sailed from Plymouth on the 9th of July, but the very next
day encountered a severe storm, which damaged and scattered it. After
reassembling and refitting, the project of going to attack Ferrol was
given up, and it was determined to endeavor to capture the great annual
treasure fleet from the Spanish Indies.

In that age, from the unwieldiness of these great galleons and from
imperfect navigation, these fleets had stated courses and seasons for
going and returning. They had also certain ports where they touched
for water and provisions, rendered necessary by the immense time they
consumed in their voyages. The Azores was one of these points, and
Essex determined to go there, and to take the port of Fayal, as a
preliminary step to capturing the fleet. But the English ships becoming
separated on the passage, Raleigh and his squadron arrived alone.
Seeing the Spaniards at work fortifying, he at once attacked and
took the place. Essex, upon his arrival, was much incensed at being
robbed of the glory he so much coveted, and but for Howard, would have
cashiered Raleigh and his officers. Sir Walter having made due amends,
the matter was arranged, and dispositions were made for intercepting
the galleons. Sir William Monson was stationed off the islands, in
observation, and in due time made the appointed signal that the
Spaniards were in sight. These, however (owing, as Monson says, in his
memoirs, to Essex’s want of seamanship), almost all managed to get into
the secure and strong port of Angra. Only three were taken, but these
were of such value as to defray the whole cost of the expedition.

[Illustration: “HENRY GRACE DE DIEU.”--“_The Great Harry._”

(Built by Henry VII of England.)]

VIII.

NAVAL ACTIONS OF THE WAR BETWEEN ENGLAND AND HOLLAND. A.D. 1652-3.

In 1652 the Dutch naval power was without a rival in the world. The sea
seemed to be their proper element, and their fleets of war and commerce
penetrated to every part of the globe. Their colonial possessions were
only inferior to those of Spain, and their wealth, energy and valor
gave every promise of their extension.

England had better home harbors, and a finer geographical position; a
more numerous population, and almost equal maritime resources; and it
was a natural and cherished idea of the English Republicans to form
the Commonwealth and the United Provinces of Holland into one powerful
Protestant State, which should be able to resist all the other powers.
The advantages of such a union were easily to be seen, but the splendid
conception was opposed by commercial jealousies and by dynastic
interests.

William, the second Prince of Orange of that name, had married a
daughter of Charles the First, so that in addition to a princely
antipathy to Commonwealths, an alliance of this kind would have
interfered with a possible succession of his wife and children to the
English throne.

William was exceedingly popular with the masses, and so long as he
lived the two States remained on bad terms. He even refused to extend
to the agents of Parliament the protection of the Dutch law, and they
were constantly insulted, and one lost his life at the hands of a mob,
it was said, by the machinations of Montrose. No redress could be
obtained.

Holland’s recent successes, especially at sea, against Spain and the
Barbary States, had made her very confident in her maritime power.
England was then much exhausted, from internal dissension, and Holland
was anxious to be considered mistress of the Narrow Seas, a right
which England had long claimed, and which the Dutch had always firmly
disputed.

The Prince of Orange died rather suddenly, leaving his heir yet
unborn, and the Democratic party, which comprised the most liberal
and enlightened of the Dutch people, seized the opportunity to
abolish the office of Stadtholder, and restore a pure Republic. After
their success in this it was thought and hoped that at least a close
alliance, offensive and defensive, might be formed between the two
Republican States. An ambassador was sent from England to Holland for
that purpose, but the negotiation lagged. The “High Mightinesses” who
now ruled Holland offered a counter-proposition. Delays followed,
and St. John, the English envoy, whose time was limited to a certain
fixed date, had his pride hurt by the delay. The Dutch, on their side,
thought it arrogant and menacing in the English Parliament to have set
a time for their action and its agent’s return. The exiled court was
then at the Hague, and the exiled cavaliers frequently made St. John
feel their presence. Then, again, Holland may have wished to see the
result of the invasion of Scotland, and, after long delays, St. John
left Holland, more inclined for war than peace.

The Dutch statesmen saw their mistake after the battle of Worcester
had firmly established the English commonwealth, and now endeavored
to renew negotiations. But new troubles prevented an understanding.
Dutch privateers had continued to injure English commerce; while still
more insuperable difficulties arose from the passage by the English
Parliament of the Navigation Act. At that time, in addition to being
great traders, the Dutch were great fishermen. Rotterdam and Amsterdam
were the exchanges of Europe, and immense fortunes were made by the
ship owners of these ports. Under the Stuarts England had neglected the
merchant marine, and afforded a fine field to the Dutch traders, but
the Navigation Act, in declaring that no goods the produce of Asia,
Africa or America, should be imported into England, except in vessels
either belonging to that commonwealth or to the countries from which
the goods were imported, put a period, so far as the British Islands,
their colonies and dependencies were concerned, to a very lucrative
branch of Dutch enterprise.

The new Dutch ambassador endeavored to have this law of exclusion
repealed at once; and while urging the point, hinted that his country
then was fitting out a powerful fleet for the protection of their
trade. This hint was taken as a menace, and Parliament ordered its sea
captains to exact all the honors due the red cross flag which had been
claimed by England in the Narrow Seas since Saxon times. This order
soon made much trouble. An English Commodore, Young, falling in with
a Dutch fleet returning from the Mediterranean, sent to request the
Admiral in command of the convoy to lower his flag. The Dutch officer
refused to comply with this demand, so unexpectedly made, without
consultation with his superiors. Young then fired into his ship, and
a sharp action ensued; but the English being stronger, and the Dutch
taken by surprise, the latter were obliged to strike.

To avenge this insult to their flag, the States General fitted out a
fleet of forty-two sail, and placed it under the command of Van Tromp,
with instructions to use his discretion in resisting the English
claim to supremacy. He was, however, positively required to repel, on
all occasions, and at all hazards, attacks upon the commerce of the
Republic of Holland, and to properly support the dignity of its flag.
Tromp, who had genius as well as courage and skill, was well suited to
carry out these orders. This celebrated naval commander was born at
Briel, in 1597, and died in 1653. He served on a frigate commanded by
his father when only eleven years old, his father being killed in an
action with the French, and the son made prisoner. He rose rapidly in
the Dutch navy, and was a Vice Admiral at the age of forty, when he
totally defeated a Spanish fleet, superior in numbers and weight of
metal. This success not only made him very popular at home, but caused
him to be made a French noble. We shall see in the following pages
how Tromp died. He was buried at Delft, where a splendid monument was
raised to him.

When Tromp was put in command of this fleet war had not been declared,
and the Dutch ambassador was still in England when Tromp and his fleet
suddenly appeared in the Downs. Bourne, who was stationed off Dover
with part of the English fleet, at once sent a messenger to Blake,
who was off Rye with another division of ships. Upon receipt of the
intelligence Blake at once made all sail for the Downs. This wonderful
man, one of the greatest names in English naval history, was fifty
years old before he became a sailor; and yet, upon being appointed a
“General at Sea,” he performed some of the greatest exploits, and won
some of the greatest victories recorded in naval annals. Blake found
Tromp in and about Dover Roads. When the English were still about
ten miles off Tromp weighed and stood out to sea, without lowering
his flag. This, under the regulations then existing, was an act of
defiance. Blake fired a gun, to call attention to the omission, but no
answer was returned. To a second and a third gun, Tromp replied by a
single shot, keeping his flag flying. Stretching over to the other side
of the Straits, he then received some communication from a ketch which
met him, and, as if she had brought imperative orders, he soon came
round and made toward Blake; his own ship, the Brederode, taking the
van.

Blake felt that, in spite of a want of any declaration of war, Tromp
had received orders to offer battle, and at once proceeded to prepare
for it.

Tromp was superior in force, his numbers being greater. This was
partly made up for by the fact that the English carried more guns in
proportion, and larger crews, but many of their men were landsmen.

When the fleets had approached within musket shot, Blake, affecting
not to notice the menacing attitude of the Dutch, stood toward the
Brederode, to remonstrate concerning the lack of honors, in not
lowering the flag.

The Dutch ship sent a broadside into the James, Blake’s flag-ship, and
stopped all remonstrance short. Blake was at this moment in his cabin,
with some officers, and the fire smashed the windows and damaged the
stern. Blake coolly observed, “Well! it is not civil in Van Tromp to
take my flag-ship for a brothel, and break my windows.” As he spoke,
another broadside came from the Brederode. At this he called to those
on deck to return the fire, and the action at once began.

Few of the English officers in high command had then any experience of
warfare at sea, and Vice Admiral Penn was the only one who had received
a regular naval education.

The Council, in giving Blake chief command at sea, had left the
selection of two vice admirals to himself; and to these posts he had,
with Cromwell’s approval, named Penn and Bourne. Penn sailed on board
the Triumph, of 68 guns, taking young Robert Blake, the nephew of the
admiral, as his lieutenant. Bourne was on board the St. Andrew, 60.
Not supposing hostilities likely to occur while the Dutch ambassador
was still in England, Penn was on leave, and there was not a practical
seaman left in high command in the English fleet.

The battle began about four in the afternoon, with a rapid exchange of
broadsides. On the part of the English no line appears to have been
formed; the ships grappled as they happened to meet. The James, a
ship of fifty guns and 260 men, seems to have borne the brunt of the
action. She received 70 shots in the hull, lost all her masts, and
was completely dismantled as to her battery, by the Dutch fire. She
was exposed to a storm of shot for four hours, and had several of her
officers killed or wounded. In spite of great loss her men stood well
up to their unaccustomed work, and their energies were aroused afresh,
just before nightfall, by the arrival of Bourne and his division, which
attacked the enemy’s rear. This additional force came just in time,
and Van Tromp withdrew at dark, after a drawn battle. Blake was too
much disabled to follow, and spent the night in repairs. At daylight no
enemy was in sight, and the English found themselves unopposed upon the
Narrow Seas.

Two Dutch ships had been taken, one of which soon sank, and the other,
of 30 guns, was manned for immediate service. For such a well contested
affair the loss in killed and wounded had been surprisingly small.

This sudden encounter, without any declaration of war, caused profound
feeling in both countries. The Dutch ambassador insisted that Van Tromp
was the assailed, and only stood on the defensive, and that, with
his force, he could have destroyed the English if he had chosen. The
English mob was so indignant that the ambassador had to be protected
by a military guard; and, after long and angry debate and negotiation,
took his leave.

Blake continued to patrol the Channel, with undisputed sway, harassing
the Dutch trade and making many captures. The Dutch merchantmen were
forced to abandon the route by the Channel, and to go north about; or
else land their goods and tranship them, at great expense, through
France. The English Council not only fitted out the captured Dutch
ships, but added more men-of-war and some fire-ships to their fleet;
while the seamen’s wages were raised, and a large number enrolled in
the service of the State.

In the meantime the Dutch, a people of vast resources and inflexible
spirit, were not idle. But Blake, who was the chief authority in
naval matters, caused the English Council to raise the English navy
to 250 sail and fourteen fire-ships. While squadrons were sent to the
western part of the Channel, to the Baltic, and to the Straits of
Gibraltar, one hundred and seventy sail, of all classes, as well as the
fire-ships, were to be placed under Blake’s immediate orders, to fight
the enemy.

The full number of vessels so authorized was never fitted out; but in
a month from the fight off Dover the Admiral had one hundred and five
ships, carrying near 4000 guns, under his immediate command. The great
difficulty was in obtaining men to man the ships; and, to make up for
the scarcity of seamen, two regiments of foot were taken bodily on
board the fleet--and from that time marines, as a distinct corps, have
formed part of the equipment of English men-of-war.

In the meantime the Dutch were urging their preparations, and their
dock-yards at the Texel, the Maas, and on the Zuyder Zee, were at work
day and night. They laid the keels of sixty men-of-war, intended to
be larger and more perfect than had ever been seen in the North Sea.
Merchantmen of size were fitted as men-of-war, and all able seamen
lured into service by high pay and the hope of prize money. In a few
weeks Van Tromp found himself in command of one hundred and twenty
sail, of all classes.

It had become necessary for England to send to the Baltic for supplies
of hemp, tar and spars, and it required a strong fleet to convoy these
vessels safely home. Another fleet was detailed to intercept the rich
Dutch merchant fleets from the East Indies and elsewhere, as well as
to break up the great herring fishery, which the hardy and industrious
Hollanders had monopolized, and in which their vessels were employed by
the thousand. The spring fleet of herring vessels, numbering 600, was
now coming home from the neighborhood of the North British islands, and
as Tromp showed no immediate intention of putting to sea, Blake himself
went to the North, leaving Sir George Ascue, his second in command, in
the Channel, to keep a lookout for Van Tromp.

Blake sailed in the Resolution, with sixty ships, leaving Dover Road
on the 21st of June, and about the time he had passed the Frith of
Forth, Van Tromp appeared in the Downs with over one hundred men of
war and ten fire-ships. Ascue was compelled to shelter his division
under the guns of Dover Castle, and the whole south of England was at
the mercy of Van Tromp. Couriers were sent by land, in hot haste, to
intercept Blake on the Scotch coast, and recall him from his ill-judged
cruise. But before they found him he had met the Dutch herring fleet,
escorted by twelve men of war, and captured 600 of the “busses,” with
their freight. This was not done, however, without a most gallant fight
by the twelve Dutch men-of-war, which lasted three hours, against
overwhelming odds, ending in the sinking of three and the capture of
the others. Blake let the fishing boats go, after warning them never to
fish again among the British islands. For his conduct in thus restoring
their all to these poor people he was afterwards much blamed by many in
England.

Meantime, in the South, hurried preparations were made to meet Van
Tromp. But the latter was detained in mid-channel by a calm, and when
the wind sprung up, it blew from the land with such force that the
Dutch fleet could not approach, and his intention of crushing Ascue was
foiled. With the same strong wind Van Tromp, therefore, returned to the
Texel, where an immense fleet of merchant vessels were waiting for him
to escort them clear of all danger from English cruisers. This duty he
accomplished, and then followed Blake to the North. Blake’s fleet had
suffered much from bad weather, and was now scattered among the roads
and havens of the Orkneys, for repairs. But on hearing that his enemy
was approaching, Blake hastily re-assembled his ships and prepared for
the encounter.

Towards evening on the 5th of August the fleets came in sight of
each other, about half way between the Orkney and the Shetland
islands. Both leaders were confident, and both anxious to engage. But
while preparations were being made a fierce gale burst upon them,
which damaged and destroyed many of the ships of both fleets, but
particularly those of Van Tromp, so that he was obliged to make his
way home with much loss, followed by Blake, who ravaged and insulted
the Dutch coast with impunity. Thence he returned to the Downs, and
gathered his fleet once more about him.

In the meantime Ascue and De Ruyter, Van Tromp’s second in command, had
had a drawn battle, and the States General of Holland, undaunted by
recent reverses, were refitting another large fleet for service in the
Channel.

The failure of Van Tromp to accomplish anything with the powerful fleet
provided him, caused great tumult in Holland. The Dutch had been so
long accustomed to victory at sea that the mob became ungovernable.
Van Tromp was insulted upon his return, and resigning his command,
retired to private life. De Witt, a renowned statesman, as well as an
Admiral, was called to the command of the fleet. De Ruyter now wished
to resign his command, pleading long service, advancing years, and
failing health. But his countrymen would not listen to his retiring,
and insisted upon his once more leading them, as of old, to glory and
victory.

When the fleet was ready for sea, De Witt joined De Ruyter, and assumed
the supreme command.

To oppose this new danger Blake summoned Ascue and his squadron from
Plymouth, and the two hostile fleets were soon at sea, and searching
for each other, to have a renewed trial of strength.

Blake had sixty-eight ships of various force, and was superior to the
Dutch fleet both in number of vessels and in guns.

While cruising about the Channel in search of the Dutch, Blake fell
in with the fleet of the Duke de Vendome, which was fresh from a
victorious engagement with the Spanish fleet. The French fleet was
intended to relieve Dunkirk, then besieged and closely pressed by the
Spaniards. The town was in extremity, but the disaster to the Spanish
fleet had left the sea open to France, and Vendome at once ordered a
relief squadron to Calais Road, to take on board men, arms, stores and
fresh provisions.

At this time privateers from Dunkirk and from Brest preyed, as they had
always done, more or less, upon English commerce, and English cruisers
often retaliated, but there was no formal declaration of war between
France and England.

As soon as Blake learned of Vendome’s doings at Calais, without
awaiting instructions or reporting his intentions, he stood for
the Roads, and found there seven men of war, a small frigate, six
fire-ships, and a number of transports with men and provisions on
board, all ready to sail. Such an accession would enable Dunkirk to
hold out indefinitely.

English interests, both commercial and political, required the downfall
of this stronghold of privateers. The Council of State was convinced
that if the place was taken by the Spaniards they might be induced
to cede their conquest to Great Britain, as was, indeed, afterwards
done. Blake knew the public feeling in England, and was certain that
if he struck a successful blow at the French force, he would not be
held responsible for any trouble it might occasion with the French
Government. Only he must take care to succeed.

He, therefore, in spite of Vendome’s protest, attacked the force
anchored at Calais, and in a few hours had the whole--war-ships,
fire-ships and transports, Admiral, officers and men--safe under the
guns at Dover Castle.

Dunkirk could do nothing but surrender to the Archduke Leopold, and the
seizure of Vendome’s squadron in time of peace remained a monument of
Blake’s bold conception and rapid execution, as well as an illustration
of the extreme powers which he exercised at sea, independent of the
Council of State.

The prizes safely bestowed, he sailed again at once, in quest of De
Witt and De Ruyter. On Sept. 28th Admiral Penn, in the James, came in
sight of the Dutch off the _North Foreland_. He at once signaled to
Blake, who, in his turn, transmitted to his vanguard the order to “bear
in among them as soon as the fleet was up.” “Blake was always ready for
action; he trusted in God and kept his powder dry.” De Witt was not
really in condition for battle, for his ships were not in good order,
and his men were very discontented. The brave and experienced Ruyter
urged him to avoid a battle at that time; but his pride prevented
him from listening to the suggestion; and he resolved to fight at a
disadvantage rather than afford the world the spectacle of a Dutch
admiral retreating before any number of the presumptuous islanders. His
preparations for battle were hastily made, much confusion prevailing in
the fleet.

BATTLE OFF THE NORTH FORELAND.

De Ruyter, always foremost in fight, led the van upon this occasion;
De Witt the main body, and De Wilde the rear. Evertz, another
distinguished Dutch admiral, was stationed with a reserve, to send
succor where it should be most needed.

Just before the battle opened De Witt sent a despatch boat round the
fleet, to enjoin the captains to do their duty on this great day. But
it is well known that apathy, intrigue and discontent ruled on every
Dutch deck, and in almost every cabin; and no good could result from
such an appeal at the eleventh hour.

The Brederode, Tromp’s old flag-ship, was in the fleet, but the admiral
appointed in Tromp’s place thought it not prudent to remain among
Tromp’s devoted followers, and just before the action commenced his
flag was removed to a huge Indiaman. Several other ships, besides
the Brederode, resented the disgrace of their favorite leader, and
either disputed the new admiral’s orders, or obeyed them without the
zeal which is essential to victory. Hoping that success would restore
loyalty, De Witt hove his topsails to the mast, and formed line.

By four in the afternoon the English line was also formed and well
up, the only order issued from the Resolution being “to attack, but
hold their fire until close in with the enemy.” Then the whole of the
English van bore down upon the Dutch, who kept up an intermittent
and harmless fire as it approached. Just then the Dutch line tacked,
and the two fleets came into almost instant collision. They were so
close together that an unusual number of shots told, and the crash of
the first broadside was terrific; the roar of artillery continuing
incessantly for more than an hour.

After that the action became less furious, and there were pauses in the
storm of battle. The Dutch ships fell off to a greater distance, and,
as a breeze arose the clouds of powder smoke partially cleared away.
But, although the Dutch fell back, they fell back fighting, and with
their faces to the enemy; and, with their usual obstinate valor they
continued the battle until night fell upon the scene of slaughter. The
Dutch had lost most men, while the English had suffered most severely
in masts and rigging. It was thought by experienced commanders, in both
fleets, that De Witt would have been completely defeated and broken
had he not drawn off at nightfall.

Ruyter had, as usual, commanded his important division with consummate
skill and bravery. He lost a large proportion of the crew of his own
ship, and his masts and rigging were almost destroyed, and the hull
seriously shattered. De Witt himself, by his courage and conduct during
the battle, atoned in part for his rashness in fighting such an enemy
in the then condition of his fleet. But, in spite of their efforts,
the Dutch had the worst of it. Two of their ships foundered in the
first shock of battle; and two others were boarded and taken, one of
them being the Rear Admiral’s flag-ship. As has been seen, the loss
of life in the Dutch fleet was great, and this, in addition to the
general disaffection, caused about twenty of De Witt’s captains to take
advantage of the darkness, withdraw their ships from the main fleet,
and make for Zealand, where they carried the first news of disaster.

As many of the Dutch fleet remained in sight, and kept their lights
burning during the night, Blake naturally assumed that they would fight
again at daylight. Every one, therefore, on board the English fleet was
engaged in repairing damages, in securing prisoners, caring for the
wounded and burying the dead.

At daylight the whole fleet bore down for the Dutch position, and, from
the attitude of the latter, it seemed likely that the bloody work of
the previous day would begin again.

De Witt wished to fight; but a change of counsel took place before the
fleets got within cannon shot of each other. Evertz and De Ruyter’s
opinion prevailed, and it was decided to collect the scattered ships,
to gain one of their own ports, repair, refit, and re-man the ships,
and await the orders of the States General.

Blake, in his disabled state, could not prevent them from carrying out
this decision; and was obliged to content himself with petty raids upon
the Dutch coasts, such as Tromp had inflicted upon the English in the
preceding year.

The news of this action was received in London and throughout England
with great exultation. It was the first great naval action fought
by the English since the days of Elizabeth. England had come off
victorious against the best seamen and most experienced admirals of the
world. Tromp, Evertz, and Ruyter had been regarded as invincible sea
commanders; yet now a land officer, with but three years’ experience
of the sea, with soldiers and landsmen, had successfully withstood the
attacks of veteran sailors who had swept the great navies of Spain from
the face of the ocean.

Blake took his place at once among the highest of living Admirals.

* * * * *

Parliament wished at once to release the ships hired from the merchant
service, and to reduce the fortifications about Deal and Sandown.

This Blake replied to by a demand for thirty new frigates, but such was
the momentary confidence and security felt that he did not obtain them.
Vendome’s renewed complaints were treated with haughty indifference,
and the Council dreamed of a “_mare clausum_,” the dominion of the
Narrow Seas, and the exclusion of the Dutch from all the valuable
fisheries.

They little understood the resources and determination of the people
with whom they had to deal.

1652-3.

And now we shall see how sturdy Van Tromp came to the fore again.

De Witt’s return with his discomfited fleet was the signal for great
disorders in Holland. The enemies of the Orange party did not hesitate
to accuse him of rashness, cowardice and treason. The sailors of the
fleet, who had been almost mutinous before the battle, really became so
after it.

Even on board his own flag-ship De Witt was not entirely free from
danger. He had, before sailing, executed some seamen for mutiny, and
excited much silent rage thereby; but when he came back unsuccessful,
the popular passions were aroused, and he was mobbed as soon as he
landed, in Flushing; his proud heart being almost broken by the insult
from a people he had served so long and well, he fell sick, and
relinquished his command. Ruyter shared some of his unpopularity, but
was persuaded to continue in his command.

Having so often triumphed at sea, the Dutch could not understand that
their reverses were not the result of gross misconduct in their sea
generals; and they now remembered that, if Tromp’s success in the early
part of the war had not been very great, he had not, at least, suffered
defeat, and they felt that the elements, and not man, had destroyed the
powerful fleet which he had lost.

His reputation became once more the first in Holland, while personal
feeling and his past training peculiarly fitted him to meet the English.

The States General were ready to reverse their decision when they found
him necessary, and this was confirmed when they found that the King of
Denmark, alarmed by the sudden growth of England’s maritime power, was
making interest with leading Dutch statesmen, not only for a vigorous
renewal of hostilities, but also for the restoration of Tromp to his
offices and honors.

The most eminent of his rivals in naval ability and in political
influence were, upon his restoration, appointed to serve under him as
Vice and Rear Admirals. These were De Witt, Ruyter, Evertz and Floritz.
De Witt, completely mortified and disgusted, excused himself on the
plea of ill health; and Ruyter joined the fleet as second in command.

The Danish King now refused to allow the English ships, which had been
sent to the Baltic for the naval stores so necessary to the fleet, to
return through the Sound or the Belts, and thus proved a new enemy for
the Commonwealth to deal with.

As the term for which Blake had been appointed sole General and
Admiral of the fleet had expired, he requested the appointment of two
colleagues, as he considered the coast command of England equally
important with that of the cruising fleet.

Colonel Deane and General Monk were accordingly so commissioned, both
these officers being in the land service, and at that time actively
employed in Scotland.

Winter had now set in, and Blake distributed the fleet, some for convoy
duty, and some for repairs. The Dutch were hard at work in their
dock-yards, and Blake, with a reduced force, cruised from port to port
of the Channel, not expecting the enemy to appear at sea before the
return of fine weather. In this he had greatly mistaken the energy and
influence of Tromp, who, in an incredibly short time, fitted out and
manned a vast fleet; and while the English squadrons were dispersed
in various directions, suddenly appeared off the Goodwins with more
than one hundred sail of the line, frigates and fire-ships. His plan
was bold and well conceived. Coming suddenly into the Downs with this
large force, he intended to close up the Thames, cut off reinforcements
preparing there, and then to fall upon Blake’s division, and either
capture it or drive it westward out of the Channel; then, with the
coast at his mercy, he could dictate terms to the Commonwealth. At that
time a winter cruise or campaign was hardly thought possible; but Tromp
relied upon a swift and daring blow to finish the war in a few days.

Blake was then in the Triumph, and the first intimation he had of
Tromp’s being at sea was from his own look-out ships. On the 9th of
December the two fleets were in presence of each other, between Calais
and Dover; and the English Admiral then learned that Tromp was in
command, and accordingly prepared himself for serious work.

A council of war was held on board the Triumph. Blake declared his
intention to fight, even without his detached squadrons, rather than
leave the coast exposed to the incursions of the great and uncrippled
Dutch fleet.

All that December day the two Admirals worked for the weather gage. The
succeeding night was long, cold and stormy, and the ships were unable
to keep well together. At daylight of the 10th the manœuvres for the
weather gage were renewed, the two flag-ships, the Brederode and the
Triumph, both drawing toward the Nase, and by three in the afternoon
the fleets were quite near each other, off that headland of Essex.

Tromp being most anxious to engage, made a sudden effort to get
alongside the English Admiral. The latter’s ship, however, by a
skillful evolution, passed under the Brederode’s bows to the weather
gage. In passing the two ships exchanged broadsides, and the battle
opened. Blake’s ship was closely followed by the Garland, and missing
the Triumph, Tromp ran afoul of this second ship, and carried away
her bowsprit and head. The Garland and the Brederode then engaged,
the English ship, though much lighter, fighting bravely until joined
by the Bonaventure, 30, when the two together rather overmatched the
Brederode. Tromp, by every possible appeal, encouraged his men; but his
position was becoming very precarious, when Evertz, seeing him in such
straits, attacked the Bonaventure, placing that small ship between the
two Dutch flag-ships. The four ships were all grappled together, and
it was more than an hour before the weight of metal obliged the two
English ships to yield. After they had suffered great loss the Dutch
boarded and captured them. Of the other English ships the Triumph, the
Vanguard and the Victory bore the brunt of the action. In spite of
being surrounded by enemies, and suffering severely in men, hull, masts
and rigging, they all came out of the desperate encounter uncaptured.
Night came early at that season, and the fleets were about separating,
when Blake heard of the capture of the Garland and Bonaventure, and he
at once attempted their recapture. This brought on a more destructive
conflict than the previous one. Blake was surrounded by the Dutch
ships, and the Triumph was three times boarded, and the assailants as
often repulsed. She was reduced to a wreck, and with difficulty kept
afloat, and had it not been for the Sapphire and the Vanguard, which
stood by him with extraordinary courage and devotion, the English
Admiral must have succumbed. Thick fog and darkness at last interposed
and enabled Blake to draw off his ships toward Dover Roads.

The next morning there was a dense fog, and the Dutch were not to be
seen. His disabled vessels required a shelter, and the English Admiral,
therefore, resolved to run into the Thames, and there repair damages,
ascertain the enemy’s intentions, and wait the recall and concentration
of his scattered squadrons.

In the action off the Nase the Dutch had had much the best of it, but
had lost many men, and one of their ships had blown up, every soul on
board of her perishing. Tromp’s and Ruyter’s ships were both unfitted
for further service, and many others were crippled; but they were the
victors, and once more masters of the Channel.

Blake offered to resign, but the Council would not hear of this, and
only seemed intent upon weeding out of the fleet those captains who had
not shown sufficient zeal and courage. Several were broken after proper
inquiry, among others, Blake’s own brother, who was reported as guilty
of neglect of duty.

More vessels were concentrated and placed under Blake’s orders, and the
effective force of the navy raised to 30,000 men.

While reforms, renovations and recruitments were being carried on under
Blake’s own eye, Tromp sailed up and down the Channel with a broom at
his masthead, typical of his having swept the Narrow Seas; and the
States General proclaimed a state of blockade of the British Islands.

Caricatures and ballads were circulated in the Dutch cities, all
bearing upon the late naval event. The fear that Tromp would seize
the Channel islands, and the certainty that he had effectually cut
off commerce, hastened the preparations of the English for a second
winter campaign; and, on the 8th of February, 1653, Blake, still in the
Triumph, sailed, at the head of some sixty men-of-war and frigates,
having Monk and Deane with 1200 soldiers from the army on board. Penn,
the father of the Quaker proprietor of Pennsylvania, was the vice
admiral, and Lawson the rear admiral.

In the Straits of Dover he was joined by the Portsmouth squadron, of
twenty sail; and with this addition to his strength, Blake resolved to
seek the Dutch fleet, and once more give battle.

Tromp had gone to the southward, to meet a large fleet of Dutch traders
which had collected near Rochelle, with the intention of convoying them
home. Here intelligence reached him that the English were about to
quit the Thames with a large fleet, and he hoped to be able to return
in time to block it up in the river mouth, and to keep the Portsmouth
squadron from effecting a junction with the main body. But Blake had
stolen a march upon the Dutch Admiral, and when the latter came up
with Cape la Hogue, he was surprised to find a force equal to his own
prepared to dispute the passage of the seas so lately swept by his
broom. He, however, accepted battle eagerly, for he was confident of
victory.

THE BATTLE OFF PORTLAND.

Day was just breaking, on the morning of the 18th of February, 1653,
when the Dutch van was made out from the masthead of the Triumph. Blake
was on deck at once, and a grand spectacle he must have had, as the sun
rose, showing the heaving wintry sea covered with ships, their sails
and pendants lighted up by the early rays. There were seventy-three
Dutch ships of war, convoying more than three hundred merchant ships.
Owing to the darkness the ships had not seen each other until only
three or four miles apart. The English flag-ships happened to be all
within hailing distance of each other, but General Monk was some miles
astern, in the Vanguard, and the bulk of the English fleet about five
miles astern of Admiral Blake when the Dutchmen hove in sight.

Tromp, with his seaman’s eye, saw his advantage, and at once availed
himself of it.

With the wind in his favor he might have forced his way by, and
carried his convoy to the Scheldt in safety, returning at his leisure
to give battle. But he chose to play a bolder game, and fancying that
his enemy’s vanguard of some twenty ships could not resist the weight
of his attack, he sent his fleet of traders to windward, out of range,
with orders to await there the issue of the engagement.

This great battle was fought under circumstances which lent it
thrilling interest. Both nations had had time to collect their best
fleets, and the largest and finest vessels they had were there arrayed
against each other, commanded by the most renowned Admirals. Blake,
Deane, Penn and Lawson were on one side; Tromp, De Ruyter, Evertz,
Swers, Floritz and De Wilde, all great names, on the other.

The fleets were nearly equal in strength, and their relative merits had
to be determined on that day. Even the common seamen on each side felt
that this was the decisive battle.

At the outset the Dutch had the wind, and therefore, the advantage of
position. They were also well up together, and when they opened on the
English vanguard it seemed almost impossible for only about twenty
ships to withstand the crash of so many heavy broadsides.

As usual, the Triumph was the first of the English to engage, and the
Brederode, ever in the van, was ready to meet her, reserving her fire
until within musket shot, when her broadside would have most deadly
effect. With a strong favoring breeze Tromp shot by the Triumph,
pouring a fearful broadside into her as he passed; and then, tacking,
gave her a second and more destructive one, leaving her with decks
strewed with killed and wounded, and torn canvas, stranded rigging, and
tottering masts. After this the two Admirals parted for the day, for
Penn came dashing up, in the Speaker, followed by other vessels, to
cover Blake from some part of the circle of fire which threatened him
with destruction.

As the other divisions of the English fleet came up the battle became
general. On both sides the wreck and destruction was awful. In less
than one hour after the first shot was fired almost every ship engaged
had received serious damage. At one moment an English crew was to be
seen boarding a Dutch man-of-war, and the next they would be driven
back, and their own vessel boarded in turn by the doughty Hollanders.
Here might be seen a ship completely wrapped in flames; there one
foundering, with all her men, their cries for help unheeded by either
friend or foe; perhaps elsewhere occurred a fearful explosion, which
sent ship and crew into the air together, and added fresh volume to the
lurid cloud which hung over the scene.

Cotemporary writers say that the tremendous roar of artillery could be
heard along the shores of the Channel, from Boulogne on the one side to
Portland Bill on the other.

About midday Monk succeeded in arriving up with his division, and the
contest was now entirely upon equal terms. De Ruyter, as ever, in the
forefront of battle, added, if possible, to his already well earned
renown. Early in the day he singled out and engaged the Prosperous, a
hired ship of forty guns, commanded by a Captain Barker. The English
ship maintained so steady a fire, in response, that De Ruyter,
impatient, and wishing to finish her and pass on to fresh combats,
called away his boarders, ran his ship alongside the Prosperous, and
the Dutchmen gallantly boarded, leaping down on her deck, sword and
pistol in hand. But, to their surprise, they were driven back again in
a very few minutes. Not satisfied with forcing back his assailants,
Barker threatened De Ruyter in return; but the brave old Dutchman,
singing out, “Come lads! that was nothing! at them again!” led them to
a second and more successful boarding. Barker and his officers were
unable to resist this renewed assault, and were soon prisoners. At this
very moment Blake, with several vessels, came up to their assistance.
The prize was recovered, and Ruyter himself was surrounded by the
English. Vice Admiral Evertz and Captains Swers and Krink hastened,
in their turn, to relieve Ruyter from his dangerous position, and the
battle soon raged with extraordinary violence around this new centre.
Penn’s ship, the Speaker, was so shattered as to be unfit for further
service, and when night put an end to the first day’s engagement he was
despatched to the Isle of Wight, for the ships left at that station.

The Dutch Captain Cruik, in the Ostrich, was very conspicuous in this
day’s engagement. Like a true sailor, he fought till he had not a spar
showing above his bulwarks, and his deck was literally covered with
the dead and wounded of his devoted crew. At last he was boarded by
the English; but, as the ship appeared to be sinking, and her officers
and crew were nearly all killed or wounded, the boarders made hasty
plunder of her valuables and left her to her fate. De Wilde offered
his aid to bring her off; but suddenly it fell calm, and not having a
particle of sail spread, the attempt to tow her off failed, and she was
again abandoned. Next morning Blake found her floating about, without a
living soul on board, and the unburied corpses lying just as they had
fallen; occasionally, under a more than ordinarily heavy roll, showing
a startling movement.

Captain Swers, afterward a most distinguished Dutch Admiral, was taken
prisoner. He had gone to the assistance of Captain De Port, who was
being roughly handled by two English frigates, and the four ships were
immediately locked together. De Port’s ship had several shots between
wind and water, and began to fill. He himself was severely wounded by a
large splinter; nevertheless, as he lay on his back, in great agony, he
waved his sword, and shouted words of encouragement to his men, until
ship and crew all went down into the deep together.

The Dutch had always been noted for close fire, but on this occasion
the English fire proved quite as deadly and regular. Swer’s ship
foundered from shot holes, himself and those of the officers and crew
left being taken on board the frigates, and their lives thus preserved.

Toward dusk of the second day Blake felt himself in a sufficiently
strong position to be able to send some of his best sailing ships with
orders to gain the wind, and if possible prevent the escape of the vast
fleet of rich traders which had remained hove to, awaiting the issue of
the action. Tromp saw the movement, and at once divined the cause, so
he fell back, with a great part of his fleet, to cover his convoy. This
movement put an end to that day’s action; for, seeing their Admiral
make sail and leave the enemy, some of the Dutch Captains made sail,
and, under the cover of night, were soon far away. Blake remained on
the scene of action, but with his men too much exhausted, and his
vessels too much damaged, to permit of a chase in a mid-winter night.

Both sides had shown the most devoted valor and untiring zeal. The
Dutch had had eight large ships either taken or destroyed. During
the battle the Prosperous, the Oak, the Assistance, the Sampson, and
several other English ships had been boarded and taken, although most
of them were afterward recaptured. The Sampson was so damaged that her
Captain, Button, and his officers and men, were taken out of her, and
she was allowed to sink.

The flag-ship Triumph suffered most severely. Her Captain, Andrew Ball,
was killed, as was the Admiral’s secretary, Sparrow, who was shot down
at his side, and nearly half her crew were killed. Blake himself was
wounded in the thigh; and the same ball which lamed him for life tore
away a part of Deane’s buff coat.

The Dutch loss was never ascertained, but it was very heavy, for some
of their ships had nearly all the men killed or wounded; and the
appearance of their gun-decks, spattered with blood and brains, shocked
even the callous captors.

At night Blake sent many of his wounded on shore, where preparations
were made for them, all classes turning out to relieve and succor them.
Collections of money and clothing were made in all the South and West
of England, and the miserable provision made at that day for the sick
and wounded was supplemented by the spontaneous gifts of the people.

Blake’s own wound, which was not really dangerous at first, required
repose and proper treatment, but he would not go on shore.

At night the fleets lay close together, never losing sight of each
other’s lights during the whole of the long winter’s night. During
these dark hours all hands were employed in stopping leaks, repairing
sails, and getting gun tackle in readiness to renew the contest in the
morning.

A dead calm had succeeded to the fresh breeze which was blowing when
the battle began; and if it continued the Dutch could have no choice
as to renewing the fight. But at daylight a light breeze sprang up,
and Tromp, anxious to take home his convoy in safety, disposed his
men of war in the form of a crescent, with the traders in the centre,
and crowding all sail, stood directly up Channel. Blake followed in
pursuit, with all his available ships. It was noon, however, before the
Triumph came within gunshot of the rearmost Dutch ship, and it was two
in the afternoon before the main body came up with them, off Dungeness.

Seeing that he would be compelled to fight, Tromp ordered his convoy
to make the best of their way to the nearest Dutch port, keeping close
along Calais and Dunkirk, for protection; and then he turned upon his
pursuers, like a lion at bay.

The battle was renewed with great fury. De Ruyter again performed
miracles of courage and conduct, but the fortune of war was against
him. After some hours his own ship became unmanageable, and would
have fallen into the enemy’s hands but for Tromp, who saw his danger,
and sent a ship to extricate him. With great difficulty this was
accomplished. An hour or two later Tromp began to haul off towards
Boulogne, but it was not until night fell again that the hostile fleets
separated once more.

That night proved bitterly cold, but unusually clear, for winter, so
that the English fleet was enabled to keep the Dutch lights in sight.
On this day just closed Blake had captured or destroyed five of his
enemy’s ships, and, in consequence of the recent reforms, had not had
occasion to complain of the want of courage, steadiness or promptness
of a single commanding officer. In the Dutch fleet Tromp had to contend
against want of concert, party bitterness and personal envy in many of
his captains. At the close of this day’s fighting several of the latter
sent word on board the Brederode that they were out of powder, and
Tromp was compelled to send them away in the night, so as to prevent
cowardice and treason from spreading to the other ships. To conceal his
true motive he pretended to give them orders to take a new position,
to windward of the convoy, to protect them from the light craft of the
English, which were hovering about.

But when day dawned Blake saw at a glance that the Dutch fleet was
considerably reduced in numbers, and inferred that a squadron had been
despatched during the night to cover the convoy; and he at once sent
a squadron of fleet sailers after them, while he himself bore down
once more on his reduced but unconquered enemy. Tromp met him with
undaunted courage, and, as usual, fought desperately. But the most he
could now hope for, with his reduced fleet, was to occupy Blake until
his richly laden convoy could reach a friendly port. But even this
seemed doubtful. After the first shock of this day’s renewed fighting
he felt that he would be able to afford them but small protection; and
he sent Captain Van Ness to the merchant fleet, with orders to crowd
all sail for Calais Road. As the fight went on he again sent another
officer to hurry them in, or else the English frigates would soon be
among them. But the wind was blowing from the French coast, and Van
Ness’ most energetic efforts were insufficient to carry the confused
mass of traders near enough to the Roads to be out of danger. More than
half the men-of-war and frigates of the Dutch fleet had been scattered,
taken, or sunk, by this time, and many of the captains who were left
had, contrary to Tromp’s orders, retreated upon the flying convoy.
Confusion now reigned, and as the English came up, the merchantmen, in
their alarm, either ran foul of each other and knocked themselves to
pieces, or fell into the enemy’s hands.

Still engaged with the retreating Dutch men-of-war, Blake arrived on
the scene in the afternoon, and finding some of the merchant ships
actually throwing themselves into his way, he began to suspect that it
was done to lure him to make captures and give the discomfited fleet
time to rally. He accordingly gave strict orders that every man-of-war
still in condition to follow and fight should press on after the main
body of the enemy, leaving the traders to be either picked up by the
frigates detailed for the purpose, or driven where they could be
captured after the Dutch fleet was swept from the Channel. At last
darkness put an end to the chase. Tromp ran in and anchored the remnant
of his fleet under the French shore, about four miles from Calais. They
were in number about one-half what he had sailed with; and all of them
more or less damaged.

Blake’s pilots all agreed that Tromp could not, as the winds and tides
then were, come out to sea again, in order to get home. He, therefore,
anchored his fleet also, and set to repair damages. The night was dark
and a gale was blowing, and ships’ lights could not be seen at any
distance. At daylight the sea was clear where so many ships had been at
anchor at sunset. Tromp had slipped away toward Dunkirk; and afterward
succeeded in entering the various ports of Zealand.

Blake felt that it would not be well for him to follow the enemy into
the flats and shallows of his own coast, and so he stood over for
England. The bad weather continuing, he carried his fleet and the
prizes into Stoke Bay, whence he reported his success to Parliament.

During these successive days of fighting there had been great loss of
life. Seven Dutch captains were killed, and three taken prisoners.
Three English captains were killed, and Blake himself, Rear-Admiral
Lawson, and many other distinguished officers wounded. The total loss
on each side was never published. A day of thanksgiving was appointed
in England, and provision made by public subscription, as well as by
the State, for the widows and children of those who had fallen.

Blake took no rest, in spite of his wound, but refitted and revictualed
his ships, intending to strike a blow at the Brest privateers.

But in April he received information that the equally indefatigable
Tromp was making great efforts to equip another fleet. He at once
proceeded off the Texel, with about one hundred sail. In the Texel he
saw many men-of-war, but Tromp himself had already gone out to the
Northward, to convoy in an expected fleet of traders from Spain and the
Levant. By good seamanship he brought them safe home, but not by the
Channel which he had formerly brushed down with his broom.

Then came Cromwell’s assumption of supreme power; and political events
of magnitude usurped, in English minds, the Dutch war, and all other
matters.

Blake’s opinions were known to be unfavorable to the extreme practices
of the Protector, and when the Dutch heard of the revolution which had
occurred in London, by means of the army, they jumped to the conclusion
that their redoubtable naval enemy would no longer carry on the war
with the same energy. But in this they were deceived. Blake was loyal
to his country and her welfare, before all, and told his captains that
“it was not for them to mind affairs of State, but to keep foreigners
from fooling us.” Though he suspected Cromwell, and abhorred military
rule, he had patriotism enough not to deprive his country of such
services as he could render, because it had allowed itself to submit,
in an irregular way, to a power not of his choosing.

It was fortunate that he took this resolution promptly, for Tromp,
Evertz, Ruyter and De Witt, under the impression that the English fleet
was divided by political discord, sailed for Dover Road, with one
hundred and thirty ships, manned in haste, took some prizes, and began
firing upon the town.

The English fleet was then in three divisions. Deane and Monk, sailing
together, in the Resolution, had under their orders thirty-eight sail,
carrying 1440 guns, and about 6000 men; Penn had thirty-three sail,
with 1200 guns, and 5000 men; and Lawson had thirty-four ships, with
1200 guns, and about 5000 men. The Dutch had a few more ships than the
English, but were about equal in guns and men.

When Tromp thus suddenly reappeared, Blake was at the North, with a
small fleet, but couriers rode overland, day and night, to apprise him
that the Dutch were again in the Channel, and had fired upon Dover.

He made all sail for the South as soon as he heard this important news,
having a favoring breeze, and burning with anxiety to join the main
fleet before a battle took place.

But on the 2d of June, before he arrived, the hostile fleets sighted
each other near the Gable, and were soon in collision. Lawson was in
advance of the English fleet, and broke through the Dutch line about
midday, separating Ruyter’s division from the rest, and engaging it
heavily before the main body on either side could get up.

In about an hour Tromp came to Ruyter’s relief, and the action then
became general. One of the first shots which struck the Resolution
killed General Deane, and Monk threw his cloak over the mangled body,
and called to his men to avenge his death. For some hours the Dutch
fought with reckless courage, and when night fell both fleets had
sustained great damage and loss, but nothing was decided. All that
night, while the hostile fleets lay to, near each other, repairing
damages, Blake was carrying every possible stitch of sail, to reach the
fleet. He was, of course, unaware of the day’s events, of the death
of his friend and comrade, Deane, and of the doubtful position of the
English fleet. The officers and men who had been engaged on the English
side watched anxiously for signs of the coming of their great leader,
but when the summer morning dawned no trace of his sails could be seen
on the northern horizon. Tromp was unaware that Blake was expected
that day, as he believed him to be too far North to be recalled. He,
therefore, spent the whole morning in manœuvres for the weather gage. A
calm put a stop to this at about noon, and then the great guns opened
again on both sides, and the battle was renewed with great energy, but
neither side seemed to have any decided advantage. If there was any
it was upon the side of the Dutch. But early in the afternoon Blake
managed to draw near, with a light air, and his thundering broadsides
upon the flank and rear of the Hollanders put new life into the
harassed and flagging English. Young Blake was the first of the English
reinforcement to engage the enemy, and, as if to announce the arrival
of the great captain upon the scene, he broke through the Dutch line,
belching forth death from both batteries, and greeted with tremendous
cheers from the English ships.

By four o’clock the battle was over, and the retreat of the Dutch
began. Tromp fought with the energy of despair; but nothing could
withstand the onset of such a force, led by Blake himself.

The Brederode boarded Penn’s flag-ship, the James, but the attack was
repulsed by Penn’s crew, who, in turn, boarded the Brederode, and would
probably have captured that ship had not Tromp, resolved not to fall
into his enemy’s hands alive, thrown a match into the magazine, and
caused an explosion, which sent the upper deck and the gallant boarders
upon it into the air, the planks shivered into splinters, and the men
horribly scorched and mutilated.

Most strange to relate, Tromp himself was but little hurt; but a report
of his death spreading, many of his captains, thinking all was lost,
bore up and fled. De Ruyter and De Witt exerted themselves in vain
to stem the tide of disorder and defeat. Tromp, after his marvelous
escape, left the wrecked Brederode for a fast sailing frigate, and
passed through his fleet, encouraging those who stood fast, and
threatening the waverers, while he fired upon some who fled the scene.

But it was too late. The day was lost, and the brave old man had at
last, reluctantly, to give the order for retreat.

Just then a fresh gale sprang up, but the English fleet pressed sail
after them, sank some ships, captured others, and were only made to
cease by darkness coming on.

Favored by the darkness, Tromp anchored in Ostend Road, and next day
escaped, with the remnant of his fleet, into Weilingen.

The news of this great defeat threw the United Provinces into a
dangerous ferment. The mob rose in many towns, and committed great
excesses. The Admirals offered to resign; and they all declared that
they would go to sea no more with such an organized fleet as they then
possessed. De Witt openly acknowledged that the English were, for the
present, masters of the sea.

The naval power of Holland was indeed, for the time, completely
broken; and the final battle of the war, hazarded and lost two months
later, was an expiring effort, made with crippled resources, and under
circumstances of the greatest discouragement.

The English fleet, though it kept the sea, was scarcely in better
condition than that of their enemy. Blake kept the Dutch coast
blockaded, nevertheless, while their commerce was intercepted and their
fisheries idle. In doing this his fleet suffered from bad and scanty
provisions, which brought on much sickness. Blake himself fell ill, and
had to be taken on shore, more dead than alive, leaving to Monk, Penn
and Lawson the carrying out of his plans.

One more blow, and all was over. In the temporary absence of the
English blockading fleet, the Dutch squadrons at Weilingen and the
Texel put to sea, and effected a junction. But their shattered fleet
was felt to be unfit to cope with their powerful opponents, and when
they met the English fleet, they endeavored to avoid a battle. But Penn
and Lawson pressed sail to come up with them, and some fighting had
already taken place, when night came on, and stopped it.

Next day a heavy gale prevented a renewal of the action; but on the
next the fleets once more met.

During the close fighting which ensued the aged and able Van Tromp
received a musket ball through the heart, and fell upon his own
quarter-deck,--an appropriate death for the gallant but unfortunate
veteran.

At his death his fleet fled; the English pursuing without mercy, for
the ruthless Monk was now in command, and had ordered his captains to
give no quarter. They made no prisoners; and the end of the engagement
was rather a massacre than a battle.

Immediately after this the humbled States General sued for peace.

IX.

FRENCH AND DUTCH IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. A.D. 1676.

In the latter part of 1674 Messina and a part of Sicily revolted
against the Spaniards, and Louis XIV resolved to sustain the
insurrection, in pursuance of his political designs. In consequence,
Duquesne, who had just been named General of the Naval Forces, sailed
from Toulon, on January 29th, 1675, with eight ships-of-war, bound for
the Sicilian coast.

Before we detail his operations there, it may be of interest to give
some sketch of this very remarkable man.

Abraham, Marquis Duquesne, one of the greatest seamen France ever
produced, was born in Dieppe, an important seaport in the north of
France. He entered the navy early, and soon rose to the command of a
ship, in which he joined in the recapture of some of the French islands
from the Spaniards, for which service he was reported most favorably to
the great Richelieu. During these operations he learned of the death
of his father, in action with the Spaniards, and Duquesne seems ever
after to have entertained the greatest dislike for this nation, causing
them to feel the effects of his resentment on numberless occasions. In
1638 he, under circumstances of great difficulty and danger, rescued
from under the guns of St. Sebastian several French vessels which had
been stranded there. The same year, at the battle of Gattari, Duquesne
decided the victory by blowing up the Spanish admiral’s flag-ship, by
means of a fire-vessel.

The next year he served on the Biscayan coast, and, at Santona, was
dangerously wounded in the jaw by a bullet, while boarding a Spanish
galleon.

During 1641 he served against Spain in the Mediterranean, was
constantly engaged, and again wounded. In succeeding years he was
actively employed, at Cape de Gatte, and at Carthagena, and was again
wounded.

Already a veteran, Duquesne was obliged, by the neglect into which the
French navy fell after Richelieu’s death, to take service under the
Swedes, then engaged in a naval war with Denmark. Queen Christina, who
knew his merit, received him cordially, and made him a vice-admiral.

In this capacity he was engaged in the naval battle of 1644, under
Fleming and Torstensen, against the old king, Christian IV, of Denmark.
He also served in other naval battles, in the north, under Admiral
Wrangel.

Peace being concluded between Denmark and Sweden, Duquesne left the
service of the latter State, and returned to his own country; and, in
1645, was again actively employed against Spain, and was again wounded.

In 1647, being then a _capitaine de vaisseau_, he was sent to Sweden to
purchase four vessels of the line for the French navy. After this he
had command of Dunkirk, in French Flanders, for five years.

In 1653 occurred the naval operations of the Duke de Vendome, about
the mouth of the Gironde, in consequence of the civil war of the
Fronde. The French navy had at this time so decreased that the Duke, in
summoning Duquesne from the North Sea to his assistance, was obliged
to ask the latter to man and equip some of the vessels at his own
expense.

On his way down the Channel to join the Duke, Duquesne met an English
squadron, which summoned him to lower his flag, a token of submission
at that time imposed upon all foreigners by the English, if within
Ushant or even Finisterre. To this demand Duquesne returned a haughty
refusal, whereupon a very close and murderous engagement took place,
which resulted in the English, although quite equal in guns to the
French, being put to flight.

On arriving off the Gironde a Spanish squadron, operating in connection
with the insurgents, attempted to bar his progress; but he drove them
off, and succeeded in joining the Duke, and greatly assisted in the
reduction of Bordeaux and all Guienne.

In recognition of his services Anne of Austria bestowed upon Duquesne a
chateau and estate in Brittany, with a promise of reimbursement for his
expenses in fitting out his squadron.

The peace of 1659 relegated Duquesne to civil life; but Colbert,
during this cessation of arms, had the wisdom to imitate Richelieu in
fostering and rebuilding the navy of France, so that, when war broke
out between France and Holland, in 1672, the former was able at once to
send to sea a formidable fleet

During this year Duquesne held a high command in the great naval
battles in the North Sea; particularly those off Southwood, where Vice
Admiral d’Estrées was opposed to the Dutch Admiral Benkaërt; as well
as the two battles where the combined French and English fleets, under
Prince Rupert, Admiral Spragge, and d’Estrées, fought the Hollanders
under Ruyter, Cornelis, Tromp and Benkaërt.

England suddenly made peace with Holland, but France continued the war,
with the alliance of Spain, Germany, and the two Sicilies; and it is at
this point that we take up Duquesne’s battles with the Dutch fleet.

When he sailed from Toulon, in January, 1675, he had on board the
Duke de Vivonne, General of the Galleys of France, who had been named
Viceroy of Sicily. He had in charge a convoy, also, with a great store
of wheat and other provisions for Messina.

On February 11th, in sight of the Sicilian coast, Duquesne and Vivonne
were attacked by a Spanish fleet of twenty men-of-war and seventeen
galleys, commanded by Don Melchoir de la Cueva. Duquesne sustained the
attack of this large force with such vigor and determination that he
gave time for the Chevalier de Valbelle to arrive from Messina with a
considerable reinforcement, when, in his turn taking the offensive, he
drove off the Spanish fleet, pursued it until it took refuge in Naples,
and then triumphantly entered Messina with his convoy.

He soon after, in concert with Vivonne, captured the town of Agosta;
after which Duquesne was sent back to France, with the greater part of
the fleet, to bring back to Sicily munitions of war and reinforcements,
then much needed at Messina.

On his arrival at Toulon, Duquesne learned that the great Dutch naval
commander, Ruyter, had entered the Mediterranean, to operate in
conjunction with the Spanish fleet. He was placed in command of a very
considerable fleet, to enable him to measure his forces with those
of the redoubtable Hollander who had been so successful against the
English and others. Duquesne was then sixty-four years of age, and
Ruyter was near seventy.

The Dutch Admiral had risen from the lowest origin to be the Admiral
of Holland. This was the result of his own great ability and bravery;
and he was so much the favorite of the Dutch government and people
that, although he begged to be excused from further service, on account
of age, nothing would satisfy them but that he should make this one
important campaign. Duquesne sailed again, from Toulon, on the 17th
of December, 1675, with a fleet of twenty ships-of-the-line, and six
fire-ships, bound for Messina.

As soon as the veteran Ruyter heard that he had put to sea, he hastened
to meet him. Some days before this an English trader had met the
illustrious Admiral of Holland off Melazzo, about twenty-five miles
from Messina. The Englishman inquired what he was doing in those parts,
and Ruyter replied that “he was waiting for the brave Admiral Duquesne.”

The hostile fleets met on the 16th of January, 1676, off the Lipari
Islands, between Salino and Stromboli, under the very shadow of the
ever active volcano.

The whole day was passed in reconnoitring each other’s strength, and
in manœuvring; and during the whole succeeding night the fleets were
working for the weather gage. Each commander had a true respect for the
courage and ability of his opponent; and each knew that he must expect
an exceptionally vigorous attack.

On the morning of the 8th, at daylight, Duquesne, who had obtained the
advantage of the wind, crowded sail down upon the Dutch fleet, which
lay about two leagues to leeward.

The French were in three divisions. Their van was commanded by Preuilly
d’Humières; the rear by Gabaret l’ainé, both excellent officers; the
centre was under the command of Duquesne himself, who had his flag in
the Saint Esprit, and was immediately supported by the Chevalier de
Valbelle, in the Pompeux, and that splendid sailor, Tourville, in the
Sceptre.

The Dutch fleet, which comprised twenty-four ships-of-the-line, two
flutes, and four fire-ships, was also divided into three. Their van was
commanded by Verschoor, their rear by De Haan, and the centre by Ruyter
himself.

The French came down in such a beautiful line that Ruyter himself
showed and expressed a sailor’s admiration for the skill and discretion
shown. The French van opened fire at about nine in the morning, and
both fleets immediately engaged. The battle, as may be supposed from
the character of the officers, was a most obstinate and well contested
one, and continued for seven hours, with very varying fortunes. At the
termination each side claimed a victory; but the advantage was clearly
with Duquesne, for the Dutch fleet, which was there to bar his passage,
was so much injured that Ruyter could not prevent Duquesne from
entering Messina with his fleet; which he did, on the following day,
without molestation from the Dutch.

In the course of the battle Ruyter’s flag-ship, the Concordia, and
Duquesne’s flag-ship, the Saint Esprit, had an encounter, which lasted
until the Concordia declined further battle, after so sharp and
murderous an engagement that Ruyter said it was the hottest fight he
had ever been in in his life; and no one was a better judge.

But this battle of the Lipari Islands was only the prelude to a still
more desperate and important one.

The active and enterprising Duquesne, having refitted at Messina,
sailed from that port again, with two objects in view. The first was
to protect important convoys of stores and provisions expected from
France; and the second to protect the town of Agosta from an expected
attack by the Dutch fleet.

Ruyter, hearing that Duquesne was again at sea, went straight to meet
him, with his fleet reinforced by a Spanish squadron, under the command
of Don Francisco de la Cerda.

The rival Admirals made each other out on the 21st of April, and the
next day the fleets met off Agosta, which is some fifteen miles to the
northward of Syracuse.

Duquesne had now thirty sail-of-the-line, and eight fire-ships. Ruyter
had twenty-nine sail, nine galleys, and four fire-ships.

On this occasion the French Admiral had entrusted the command of his
van to Almeiras, his rear to Commodore Gabaret l’ainé, and himself
commanded the centre.

Ruyter, in this battle, preferred to command the van himself, and not
the centre, as was usual for the Commander-in-chief.

The Spanish ships he put in the centre of his line of battle, and
Vice-admiral de Haan in command of his rear division.

At about two in the afternoon Ruyter, with the van division, attacked
that of Almeiras, which sustained his vigorous assault with great
steadiness. Unfortunately, however, Almeiras was soon killed by a
cannon-ball, and wavering and indecision at once showed itself in
his division; but the Chevalier de Valbelle coming up, and assuming
command, the temporary confusion ceased, and the division conducted
itself well. Just then Duquesne came down to the assistance of his van;
and the battle became general all along the line, the firing of the two
well drilled and well appointed fleets being described as unusually
sharp and terrible.

The two Admirals’ ships, the Saint Esprit and the Concordia, met once
more, and a most obstinate and destructive fight ensued. For a long
time it was doubtful which would have the advantage. At last the
Concordia suddenly and unexpectedly slacked her fire; then it ceased,
and she wore ship, and made sail in retreat. Ruyter had been badly
wounded, his left foot being carried off, and his right leg broken in
two places, while, in falling, he had injured his head severely.

Even after he fell he continued to exhort those about him to fight
courageously, but, disheartened by the strong resistance of the French,
and by the desperate wounds of their beloved Commander-in-Chief, the
Dutch van, from that moment, ceased their fire and ran to leeward,
leaving their centre and rear still heavily engaged.

Vice Admiral de Haan was true to his reputation as a superior sea
officer, and made desperate efforts to retrieve the fortunes of the
day, but the victory was with the French, and De Haan was glad to be
able to withdraw his fleet, at nightfall, and to take refuge in the
convenient port of Syracuse.

Duquesne remained off the port all night, his battle lanterns burning,
and the next day took every means to provoke the Dutch to come out and
renew the battle, but without effect.

This ended the naval battle of Ætna, or Mount Gibel.

Ruyter died seven days after the battle.

On the 28th of May Vivonne, the Viceroy of Sicily, came out of Messina
with Duquesne, in his flag-ship, the Saint Esprit, with the intention
of attacking the combined fleets of Holland and Spain, which were then
together, and lying in Palermo. They arrived off that city on the
31st, and next day the Spanish and Dutch fleets came out. But it was
not until the second of June that a decisive battle was fought. It was
decided in a comparatively short time, for no less than twelve of the
Dutch and Spanish ships, set on fire by the fire-ships of Duquesne,
blew up, destroying, besides their officers and crews, Admiral de
Haan, Don Diégo d’Ibarra, Don Francisco de la Cerda, Flores, and other
admirals and principal officers.

The French loss in this last engagement was comparatively insignificant.

Upon his return from this engagement Duquesne met the “Concordia,”
which had left Syracuse with the remains of Ruyter, which she was
carrying back to Holland. Giving the ship free passage, he saluted the
remains of the illustrious seaman in an appropriate manner. Louis XIV,
in learning of Ruyter’s death, ordered all of his forts and batteries
(in sight of which the Dutch ship passed while bearing his remains)
to salute. This was considered very remarkable, for Ruyter was a
Protestant, which, in that day, was considered worse, in France, than
being a political enemy.

Still more remarkable, Duquesne was a Protestant, and when it came to
recompensing him for his long and arduous and distinguished services,
Louis XIV required him to renounce the Protestant faith, promising him
a Marshal’s baton, and other honors. Duquesne simply replied that, if
he was a Protestant, his services were Catholic. He received the domain
of Du Bouchet, and afterwards a Marquisate, but never was really in
favor with Louis.

It may be of interest to some to continue the history of this great
French sailor.

He continued to serve at sea, though an old man; and among some other
exploits of his of this date, was the burning of some Spanish vessels
in the very port of Barcelona.

After the peace of Nimeguen he kept very quiet, and seldom went to
court, an unusual thing in those days, especially for those who had
such claims as Duquesne.

In 1682 he was sent with a fleet to Algiers, which city he bombarded
for several days, with great effect, but was compelled, by bad weather,
to return and winter at Toulon.

In June, 1683, he reappeared before Algiers, completely reducing the
place by his fire, so that the population rose up against the Dey. All
the French slaves were given up, but Mezzo Morto, who had succeeded
to the Dey, who had been put to death by the insurgents, renewed the
defence, when the bombardment was continued by Duquesne, to such an
extent that it rendered the Algerines harmless for a long time, by
destroying all their vessels and naval stores.

Two years after this Duquesne commanded the French fleet which
bombarded Genoa, and, at different times, inflicted so much damage that
the Doge and four Senators were obliged to come to Versailles, to beg
pardon, in person, from the King. It was on this occasion that the Doge
was asked what he found most surprising in Versailles, and answered
“that it was to find himself there.”

The Genoese expedition was Duquesne’s last service. He had been sixty
years in actual service, a time only rivaled by Doria. The revocation
of the Edict of Nantes distressed the veteran beyond measure. He alone,
of all the Protestants of France, was excepted from proscription, and
enabled to retain his rank and honors. But his children and friends,
his relatives and co-religionists, were banished from their homes; and
this had a most depressing effect upon the Admiral, and, no doubt,
hastened his death.

He died at Paris, on February 2, 1688, aged seventy-eight years. With
his last words he implored his eldest son not to serve against his
country, as many of the exiled Huguenots were then doing. So great was
the feeling at the time of his death, that his remains were privately
buried, his son’s request to have them sent to him in Switzerland being
refused; but he erected a tablet to his memory.

This was in great contrast with the splendid obsequies and the tomb
given by Holland to his adversary, Ruyter.

Louis XVI afterwards tried to make reparation for this treatment of
such a great French naval hero, by placing Duquesne’s portrait in the
royal apartments at Versailles. In 1844 the City of Dieppe erected a
bronze statue in his honor, and one of the large vessels of the French
navy is generally called “Duquesne.”

[Illustration: A CARAVEL OF THE TIME OF COLUMBUS.]

BATTLE OF CAPE LA HAGUE. A. D. 1692.

La Hague, or La Hougue, is in the Department of the Manche, in the
north of France. It is to the westward of Cherbourg and on the same
peninsula. It is often confounded with La Hogue, another cape to the
eastward of Cherbourg; and the battle which took place off this point
in 1692, and which gave such a fatal blow to the naval power of Louis
XIV, is generally called, in the histories, La Hogue.

Louis XIV, having seen the failure of the expedition which he had
prepared to attack Ireland, with a view to the re-establishment of
James II, resolved, if possible, to strike a vital blow at England
in another manner. He, therefore, prepared an armament which was to
protect and take part in a descent upon the territory of England,
herself the hereditary enemy of France.

The French King reckoned not only upon the number and force of his
fleet, but also upon the revulsion in public opinion which seemed to
have taken place in England, in regard to King William. Many eminent
persons, among others the famous Duke of Marlborough, were known to
have opened secret relations with James II; and that Prince had reason
to count upon many adherents in the English fleet, which he had for a
long time commanded, previous to his accession. Among others, he is
said to have depended upon Admiral Russel and Rear Admiral Carter.

Louis XIV, confident in the ultimate result of all his designs, laid
down the plan of a naval expedition, by which he would be enabled to
land a force of 30,000 men, fully equipped, upon the English coast.

Tourville was ordered to the command of the French fleet. Aimé Hilarion
de Cottentin, Count de Tourville, was born at the Chateau of Tourville,
in Normandy, in 1642. He entered the Order of Malta while still a boy,
and at the age of eighteen began to serve in the galleys of the Order,
where he soon made a reputation, so much so that he was called to
court, and given the grade of Capitaine de Vaisseau. He served under
the Duke de Beaufort, at the relief of Candia, then besieged by the
Turks; and afterward distinguished himself in the war with Holland; and
still later, distinguished himself at the relief of Messina, which had
revolted against the Spanish rule.

The following year he took part in Duquesne’s brilliant expedition
against the Algerines and Tripolitans, when the Corsairs received the
most crushing blows which had ever been dealt to them, up to that time.

In 1684 he participated in the bombardment of Genoa, and four years
after, in a successful cruise against the Dutch. In the same year he
inflicted a severe bombardment upon Algiers.

In 1689, being now an Admiral, he commanded a fleet which, in
connection with one under D’Estrées, was to support the cause of James
II. This combined fleet succeeded in landing some few men and some
munitions of war in Ireland, but, on the whole, the operation was a
failure. While in command of the French fleet, in the year following,
he had a battle with the Anglo-Dutch fleet, off the Isle of Wight,
which was a most inglorious affair for the English, their Admiral, the
Earl of Torrington, behaving with great want of spirit. The result
was that Tourville captured and burned many of the English ships, not
losing one himself. The sturdy Dutchmen made a good fight, and came off
much better than their English allies.

In 1692, as above stated, Tourville was ordered to the fleet fitted
for a descent on England; and now we shall take up the account of the
battle once more.

The bulk of Tourville’s fleet was in Brest, and as the spring opened he
received orders to sail from that port, enter the Channel, and attack
the English fleet, no matter in what force they might be found, before
they could be reinforced by the Dutch fleet, which was preparing to
join them.

The French King and his ministers had convinced themselves that, in the
event of a collision, a very large part of the English fleet would go
over to the side of the Allies of James II.

All these projects and all these hopes were brought to naught, however,
by head winds and bad weather, which detained Tourville in Brest harbor
for more than a month, while the two squadrons from Rochefort and
Toulon, which should have reinforced him, were prevented by the same
bad weather from joining him in time.

Tourville, supposing that the same winds which had prevented his
leaving Brest had facilitated the junction of the Allies, requested
the permission of the Minister of Marine to remain in Brest until his
expected reinforcements had joined him.

Pontchartrain, at that time minister, and exercising an enormous
influence over the King, ordered him to fight the English fleet,
whether he was strong or weak--“_fort ou faible_.” The minister added,
“It does not become you to discuss the King’s orders. Your duty is to
execute them, and to sail for the Channel at once. Send me word whether
you intend to do so; and, if not, the King will place in command of the
fleet some one who is more obedient and less cautious.”

This was certainly a most insolent and improper manner for the
minister--who was, by the way, profoundly ignorant of naval matters--to
address the greatest seaman which France, up to that time, had produced.

But Pontchartrain was noted for his arrogant and overbearing official
manners. Tourville having at this time complained of the bad quality of
the powder supplied him, and reporting that it could not be depended
upon, a subordinate of the Ministry of Marine was deputed to reply
to him that “if he found the powder did not carry far enough, he
had only to approach his enemy a little nearer.” There seems to be
absolutely something grotesque and ridiculous in such words, addressed
in such a way, to such a man, had it not been for the sad termination
of the action into which he was driven, against his own professional
convictions.

Tourville put to sea with about fifty-six ships, in place of
seventy-eight which had been promised him. He had hardly got to sea
before Louis XIV received information that the Jacobite plot had
completely failed, and that it was reported that Marlborough and
several other persons of distinction had been arrested; and that the
Dutch and English fleets had effected a junction.

The King at once sent orders, in great haste, to despatch fast-sailing
corvettes to seek for Tourville, and to warn him not to go into the
Channel before he had been joined by the squadrons expected from the
southern ports. This was just what Tourville had asked for, when he
received such an unmerited rebuke from Pontchartrain.

Unfortunately, none of the vessels despatched for the purpose found
him, and he pressed on into the Channel.

On the 19th of May, at daylight, between Barfleur and La Hague, he
found himself in the presence of the Allied fleet, the most powerful
that, up to that time, had ever taken the sea. It consisted of
ninety-nine ships, thirty-six of which were Dutch. Seventy-eight of
these vessels were of more than fifty guns. Admiral Russel’s flag was
flying on board the Britannia, of 100 guns; his Vice-Admiral was Sir
Ralph Delaval, in the Royal Sovereign, 100; and the Rear-Admiral, Sir
Cloudesley Shovel, in the London, 100. There were three other 100-gun
ships in the English fleet. The second division, or “Blue Squadron”
of the English fleet was commanded by Admiral Sir John Ashby, in the
Victory, 100; Vice-Admiral George Rooke, in the Windsor Castle, 90, and
Rear-Admiral Richard Carter. The Dutch fleet was commanded by Admiral
Allemonde.

The total number of guns carried by these ninety-nine ships was 6998;
and they were manned by nearly 41,000 men.

To oppose this great force Tourville had, as we have said, sixty-three
vessels, including seven which had joined him from Rochefort; and about
3500 guns, with a little less than twenty thousand men.

When they made each other out the French fleet bore west of the Allies,
and it was quite hazy, so that neither could tell upon which tack their
opponent was. But soon after sunrise the haze dispersed, and the French
were found to be upon the starboard tack, the same as the van and
centre of the Allies, and forming their line. At 8 A.M. the Allied line
was formed, the Dutch in the van, Admiral Russel in the centre, and
Sir John Ashby in the rear.

Tourville, at sight of the Allies, and making out their force and
numbers, called a council of war on board his flag-ship, the Soleil
Royal. All his officers of any rank or experience advised him to avoid
a battle against such odds. By 9 A.M. the French fleet had stretched
nearly as far to the southward as the Allied fleet; the wind continued
light from the southwest, and the French fleet could with ease have
avoided or delayed an engagement. But Tourville exhibited to his
officers the orders he had received--written orders from the king
himself--and at the sight of these no more was to be said, and at
about half past ten A.M. the French fleet, to the astonishment of the
English, made all sail, and bore down to the attack. It was certainly
an act of temerity, for the division of Admiral Russel himself would
have been not a bad match for the French.

Tourville, with his division, steered straight for that of Russel.
The latter did not avail himself of the advantage of firing as his
adversaries approached, but allowed Tourville to come down in silence
and choose his own distance; at the same time he ordered the Dutch
fleet to tack to the northward. In doing so a Dutch vessel fired at
Tourville, and the whole line at once took it up. Tourville at first
had evidently intended to bear down and cut through the English line;
and had he done this the probability is that the English centre
would have been seriously damaged before the rear or van could have
approached to its assistance, as the light wind dwindled to a calm as
soon as the heavy firing commenced. In bringing to when he did, the
French Admiral relinquished this advantage.

The engagement which now followed was terribly destructive, especially
in the centre. The English especially attacked the Soleil Royal, on
which Tourville showed the Admiral’s Standard of France. At times she
had to sustain the fire of five or six ships at once. She was finally
so cut up in sails, rigging, and spars, that she had to be towed out of
action. It is said that the English excelled the French in rapidity of
fire, delivering three broadsides to two of the French.

During the fight between the centre divisions the English rear division
cut in two a French division commanded by Admiral Pannetier, and turned
the flank of the French rear. This would have been most disastrous for
the latter had not the greater part of Ashby’s division pursued four
or five vessels of Pannetier, in place of turning again upon the mass
of the French. Gabaret, the French rear commander, was thus enabled to
hold his own against the rest of Ashby’s division, while a portion of
his ships went to the relief of Tourville, who was sore beset, as we
have seen. Coëtlogon, who commanded the succoring ships, was an old
friend and comrade of Tourville’s, and he determined to save his chief
or to die with him. He made so vigorous an attack that he not only
extricated the Soleil Royal, but even made Russel’s division, strong as
it was, temporarily give way.

A dense fog now came on, and firing ceased, as they could not
distinguish friend from foe, the ships drifting together, with the
tide. Gabaret, with the ships of the rear division which were left him,
profited by the respite, to fall in astern of Tourville’s line, and
they then anchored. Russel’s division not doing so immediately, drifted
off to some distance.

The killed and wounded in this day’s fight were very numerous, on both
sides. The English ship Eagle, a 70, lost seventy men killed and one
hundred and fifty wounded. Among the English killed was Rear-Admiral
Carter, whom the French always insisted had promised James II to
abandon William, while he was revealing to the latter the French plans
against him.

Ashby’s ships having now abandoned the pursuit of Pannetier’s, that
Admiral joined Tourville, and a brisk fire was once more opened.
Happily for the French, it was just then impossible for Russel to come
up, owing to lack of wind and a strong tide, or the French fleet must
have been crushed, as it lay between him and Ashby.

The Dutch division had been held in check by the French van division,
owing to the ability with which its Commander, d’Amfreville, had
preserved the weather gage. Possibly, also, the Dutch did not fight
with their whole heart for those who, as they said, had sacrificed them
off Beachy Head, some years before.

Night was now coming on, and Admiral Ashby, becoming uneasy at his
separation from the rest of the fleet, determined to rejoin Russel. To
do this he had to pass through the French fleet, and succeeded in doing
so, with some loss.

The French fleet having anchored to stem the flood tide were soon left
far to the westward by the English, who kept under way. On the morning
of the 20th the bulk of the French vessels were seen nine or ten miles
to the westward, and a general chase ensued.

Thus far no French ships had been taken, and only one or two destroyed.
Tourville gathered most of his vessels, except eight or ten which had
made for Brest, when chased off the day before, and finding many of
them much injured, ordered them to endeavor to reach any port they
could, in Normandy or Brittany. In the unfortified places they were at
once stranded, and as much of their armament and stores were saved as
possible. Some fifteen of their finest ships, in this position, were
soon afterward burned by the English, and it was this which pointed
out more forcibly to the French government the necessity of a military
port either at La Hague or Cherbourg, as had been repeatedly urged by
Colbert and Vauban.

Had the English understood the intricate navigation about the Channel
Islands and Saint Malo as well as the French did, there is no doubt
that they would have secured some of the French ships as trophies. As
it was, not one was brought in to an English port.

The moral effect of a victory remained the same, however, rendering
William III more firm upon his throne, while the hopes of James II were
completely dissipated.

Louis XIV, the real author of the defeat suffered by his fleet, wrote
to Tourville the following singular letter:--

“I have had so much joy in learning that, with forty-four of my ships,
you have fought, for a whole day, ninety of my enemies, that I feel no
sorrow for the great loss which I have suffered.”

This letter was intended, no doubt, to soothe the wounded feelings of
Tourville. Indeed, Louis seems to have taken upon himself the whole
responsibility of the defeat, as he should have done.

The following year he bestowed upon Tourville, in company with the Duke
de Villars, Marquis de Boufflers, the Duke de Noailles, and Catinat,
the baton of a Marshal of France.

XI.

BENBOW. A. D. 1702.

For some reason Benbow has always been considered the typical seaman
of the latter part of the 17th century, a distinction which he appears
to owe to his honesty and bravery, together with the fact that he was
almost always actively employed in the service of King William III,
with whom he was a favorite. He was born in 1650, and entered the navy
as a midshipman in the reign of James II.

Queen Anne ascended the English throne on the 8th of March, 1702, and
on the 2d of May declared war against France.

In September, 1701, Vice-Admiral Benbow had sailed to the West Indies
with a squadron of ten sail of third- and fourth-rate ships, under
orders to detain the Spanish galleons, which were to make their yearly
voyage home, with treasure and valuables.

Admiral Chateau Renaud also sailed from Brest, with the same
destination, with fourteen sail-of-the-line and sixteen frigates, to
meet the galleons and escort them to Cadiz. Benbow was very active in
the West Indies, not only in protecting English trade, but in combating
the plans of Chateau Renaud, of which he had managed to become informed.

On the 19th of August, 1702, in the evening, Benbow, with his small
squadron, being off Santa Martha, fell in with ten sail of French
ships, under Admiral Du Casse. His squadron, consisting of four ships,
each mounting sixty or seventy guns, one large Dutch ship, another full
of troops, and the remainder chiefly small vessels, were running down
close in shore, under their topsails.

Benbow immediately gave chase; but his ships being very much separated,
he was under the necessity of waiting their arrival up before
commencing an attack upon the French. At about four o’clock in the
afternoon, his ships being up, the engagement began.

The British squadron consisted of the Breda, of 70 guns, Benbow’s
flag-ship, one sixty-four, one fifty-four, and four forty-eight-gun
ships.

Benbow’s intention seems to have been to overtake the leading French
ship, and as soon as his second astern was abreast of this ship, to
have commenced the action. If these were disabled, the rest would have
fallen an easy prey; but the Falmouth, 48, disobeyed his orders, and,
being in the rear, closed with and engaged the Dutch ship. The Windsor,
48, and Defiance, 64, also engaged the ships nearest to them, but after
an interchange of broadsides, hauled off, and stood out of gunshot,
in a most cowardly manner. The brunt of the action thus fell upon the
Breda, the flag-ship, which was opposed to the two sternmost French
line-of-battle ships, by which she was seriously cut up and disabled.

The fight lasted until night fell, and Benbow continued the pursuit of
the enemy until the next morning, but at daybreak he found he had only
the Ruby, 48, near him, the rest of his ships being five miles astern.

At 2 P.M. on the 20th, the sea breeze having set in, the French
formed line and made sail on their way, followed by the Breda and
two other English ships; the remaining four making no effort to join
in the pursuit of their enemy. The ships with Benbow could only
annoy the enemy’s rear, but he continued to follow them, under every
disadvantage, for the next two days. At 2 A.M. of the 24th the Breda
was enabled, by a change in the wind, to pass close to the sternmost
French ship, and a smart action ensued. Benbow, in person, boarded the
French ship three times, in doing which he received a severe wound in
the face and another in the arm; and shortly afterward the gallant
Admiral had his right leg shattered by a chain-shot, and was carried
below; but he insisted upon being again taken on deck, and there he
remained, lying in his cot and continuing to give orders as to the
engagement.

The Breda’s immediate opponent was in a short time reduced to a mere
wreck, having lost her fore-top-mast, main yard and mizzen-mast, and
having her hull completely riddled by shot. Soon after daylight Benbow
observed the other French ships bearing down to her assistance; and at
the same time he had the extreme mortification of seeing the Windsor,
Pendennis, Greenwich and Defiance, of his own squadron, actually
bearing up, and running away to leeward, in despite of his signal, then
flying, for “close action.”

The French, observing the dastardly conduct of Benbow’s captains,
steered for the Breda, and opened fire upon that ship, which shot away
some of her spars, and otherwise considerably damaged her. They then
sent fresh hands on board the Breda’s late opponent, and taking her in
tow, made sail and went away, without any attempt on the part of the
English ships to prevent it.

One of Benbow’s lieutenants, at this time expressing his sympathy on
the loss of the Admiral’s leg, the brave man replied, “I am sorry for
it too; but I had rather lost them both than have seen this dishonor
brought upon the English nation. But do you hear,” he continued, “if
another shot should take me off, behave like brave men, and fight it
out!”

In spite of his condition and that of his flag-ship, Benbow determined
still to follow the enemy, so he communicated with his captains, and
ordered them to keep their stations in the line, “and behave like men.”
Upon this Captain Kirkby, of the Defiance, came on board the flag-ship,
and told the Admiral “that he had better desist; that the French were
very strong, and from what was passed he might guess he could make
nothing of it.” Upon sending for the captains of the other ships, to
his great disgust, surprise, and chagrin, he found they coincided in
opinion with Kirkby; and although at that time the English squadron
possessed advantages of both strength and position, the gallant Benbow
had to yield, give up the pursuit, and proceed with his squadron to
Jamaica, where he died of his wounds, on November 4th, at the age of
fifty-two.

Before his death a court-martial assembled, to try Captain Kirkby on
charges of cowardice, disobedience of orders and neglect of duty, and
these charges having been most clearly proven, he was justly sentenced
to be shot. Captain Constable, of the Windsor, was tried on the same
charges, but cowardice not being proved, he was only cashiered. Wade,
of the Greenwich, was tried for like offences, which were proven, as
well as drunkenness, and he was shot. Wade and Kirkby were both shot to
death on board the Bristol, at Plymouth, on the 16th of April, 1703.
Captain Hudson, of the Pendennis, died before his trial came on, and
the other two captains were cleared by the court-martial. Altogether,
this was one of the most disgraceful affairs that ever happened in the
British navy.

Shortly before his death Benbow received the following letter from his
late adversary, Admiral Du Casse, which speaks for itself:--

“CARTHAGENA, August 22d, 1702.

“SIR: I had little hopes on Monday last but to have supped in your
cabin, but it pleased God to order it otherwise; I am thankful for
it. As for those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang them up,
for by ---- they deserve it.

Yours, DU CASSE.”

The galleons which poor Benbow was to intercept did not finally escape.
They succeeded in crossing the Atlantic, under convoy of the French
fleet, and put into Vigo. Admiral Sir George Rooke was off Cadiz,
with the English fleet, and as soon as he heard of the arrival of the
galleons and their escort at Vigo, sailed for that place. Arriving off
that bay he sent in a boat to obtain intelligence respecting the force
and disposition of the French and Spanish ships.

This being determined, it was considered that the whole fleet could
not act, in the bay, upon the enemy’s ships; but, on the contrary,
that they would only impede each other. It was therefore arranged that
fifteen English and ten Dutch men-of-war (acting with them), and a
number of fire-ships, should be sent in to destroy the Franco-Spanish
fleet. The frigates and bomb vessels were to follow this detachment,
and the larger ships were to come in afterward, if their services
should be required. Some troops were to be landed at the same time,
and attack a fort at the south of the harbor. All the English and
Dutch flag officers went in the attacking squadron, leaving their
heavy flag-ships outside. Vice-Admiral Hopson led the van, followed
by the Dutch Vice-Admiral Van der Goes. Sir George Rooke himself,
Rear-Admiral Sir Stafford Fairborne, and the Dutch Admirals Callemburg
and Wassenaer, commanded the centre; while Rear-Admiral Graydon and
Vice-Admiral Pieterson brought up the rear, with the mortar vessels
and fire-ships. Seldom has it happened that so few vessels should have
so many officers of high rank in command, but it was done to give
eclat, and to ensure the success of a difficult undertaking.

On the 12th of October, in the morning, the attacking squadron got
under way, and made sail for the harbor, the entrance to which is very
narrow, and was protected by a strong boom, composed of masts and
yards, secured to anchors dropped in mid-channel, and the ends attached
to two of the largest French ships, the Espérance and the Bourbon.

Within the boom five ships of from sixty to seventy guns were moored,
with their broadsides bearing upon the mouth of the harbor.

The van division of the attacking fleet had hardly reached within
gunshot of the batteries when the wind died away, and they were obliged
to anchor. But a strong breeze soon sprang up, and Vice-Admiral Hopson
cut his cable, and, crowding all sail, bore down upon the boom. The
velocity acquired by his ship, the Torbay, broke the boom, and he at
once found himself between the two large French ships. Owing to a flaw
of wind, the other ships could not just then follow, but Admiral Van
der Goes and the remainder of the squadron soon found a way through the
passage Hopson had made, and the Bourbon was captured.

In the meantime the Torbay was in great danger, from a fire-ship, and
owed her preservation to a rather singular circumstance.

The fire-ship was a French merchant ship, which had on board a large
cargo of snuff, which, in the hurry of preparing her for a fire-ship,
had not been removed. When the fire reached the snuff it was so
deadened that the Torbay was saved from otherwise certain destruction.
This ship, however, suffered very severely, as she had no less than one
hundred and fifteen killed and drowned and very many wounded, including
her captain. Her masts and rigging were so injured by fire that Admiral
Hopson had to shift his flag to another ship.

The English ships, Association and Barfleur, then attacked the
batteries on both sides of the harbor, with great success, and the
French Admiral, finding that the English land forces, which had
attacked at the same time, had gained possession of a part of the town
of Vigo, and that more English ships were coming in, gave orders for
setting fire to the shipping. Before this order could be carried into
effect, however, a great many ships were taken possession of by the
English and Dutch.

There were burned or destroyed seven ships, carrying 334 guns and over
2000 men, while the English took four ships of 284 guns and 1800 men,
and the Dutch, six ships of 342 guns and over 2000 men. This was the
French loss.

Three Spanish men-of-war, carrying about 180 guns, were destroyed,
and of fifteen galleons found there, and which had really caused poor
Benbow’s death and this important naval battle, four were taken by the
English, five by the Dutch, and four destroyed. The gold and silver on
board this fleet was computed at twenty millions of pieces of eight
(dollars); fourteen millions of which had been removed previous to
the attack, the remainder being either taken or sunk in the galleons.
Merchandise of nearly equal value was taken or destroyed, besides much
plate belonging to individuals.

The capture and destruction of this fleet was a severe blow to the
French and Spaniards, and was accomplished with a very small loss
to the fleet of the Allies, if we except the Torbay. Hopson was
adequately rewarded for his gallantry.

Sir George Rooke, in leaving Vigo Bay, after this event, entrusted to
Sir Cloudesley Shovel the fitting out of the prizes, and the rescuing
of treasure from the sunken galleons. He also recovered the Dartmouth,
an English 50-gun ship, which had been captured in the previous
war; and took out of the French ships which were lying aground many
very fine brass guns. Every ship which he could not bring away was
completely destroyed.

[Illustration: NORMAN SHIP OF THE 14TH CENTURY.]

XII.

BYNG AND LA GALISSONIÈRE. A.D. 1756.

Admiral the Hon. John Byng, was the fourth son of Viscount Torrington,
and upon entering the British navy, served under his father, who was a
very distinguished officer.

In 1745 Byng, then a Rear-Admiral, commanded a squadron on the coast of
Scotland, which prevented supplies from being thrown into that country,
from France, and did much to defeat the designs of the young Pretender,
the grandson of James II.

War between England and France was formally declared in 1756, but
long before that, it had been known that the French were equipping an
expedition at the port of Toulon, which was intended for the capture
of Minorca, then in possession of the English. The French, to cover
their real design, gave out that it was intended for a descent upon
England. Although warned, the Ministry of George the Second showed
blind incredulity in regard to the designs of the French upon Minorca.
When their eyes were at last opened to the true state of affairs, it
was too late, and the British Cabinet then acted with foolish haste and
precipitation. The French had thrown a large body of troops into the
island and obtained complete possession of it, with the exception of
Fort St. Philip, at Port Mahon, which still held out.

Byng was advanced to the rank of full Admiral, and appointed to the
command of the expedition intended for the relief of Fort Philip, which
was blockaded by sea and besieged by land. The fleet with which he was
provided, instead of being of a character fit to obtain command of
the Mediterranean, consisted of ten sail-of-the-line only, and these
wretchedly fitted out. Unaccountable negligence was also observable
in manning this fleet; for, being ordered to convey a reinforcement
of troops to Gibraltar and Minorca, the marines of the ships were
ordered to be landed, to make room for the troops, and thus the proper
complement of each ship was much reduced.

The fleet should have sailed early in the year, but delay followed
delay, and Byng’s remonstrances were unheeded. The crews of the ships
were left incomplete, although they might have been filled by drafts
from vessels lying in home ports.

The expedition finally sailed from England on the 10th of April,
1756, having on board the troops alluded to above and thirty or forty
officers whose regiments were in garrison in Minorca.

Even at this time, from the instructions given to Byng, the English
ministry did not seem fully to believe that Minorca was to be found in
possession of the French, as Byng was directed to detach a portion of
his squadron, under Rear-Admiral West, to America, in case he should
learn, on arriving at Gibraltar, that the French fleet had passed out
of the Straits into the Atlantic. Byng arrived at Gibraltar on May
2d, after a stormy passage, and here all uncertainty in regard to the
motions of the French was relieved. A French armament, commanded by M.
de la Galissonière, with thirteen ships-of-the-line, and transports
conveying 15,000 troops, had taken full possession of the island,
from which Byng’s informant, Captain Edgecomb, had retired upon
their landing. This intelligence the Admiral despatched to England,
accompanied by remarks little likely to win the favor of those who
then misdirected the naval affairs of England. “Byng’s admonitory tone
irritated their Lordships excessively, and undoubtedly led them thus
early to take measures to transfer any blame from themselves to the
officer who could presume to complain of their fatal tardiness in then
attempting to defeat the enemy’s designs.”

At daybreak, on May 19th, the English fleet arrived in sight of
Minorca, and reconnoitred Port Mahon, with a view of endeavoring to
communicate with General Blakeney, in command of Fort St. Philip, and
the fleet stood in shore. But the appearance of the French fleet soon
changed the nature of the British Admiral’s movements. Galissonière’s
well appointed fleet stood down, and towards night were within a few
miles, when they tacked to obtain the weather gage, and Byng tacked
his fleet to preserve it. They both continued working to windward all
night, with light variable winds, and at day-break, on May 20th, were
not visible to each other, as it was very hazy. Soon, however, the
French fleet was discovered to leeward, but at so great a distance that
it was two in the afternoon before Byng considered it necessary to form
his line of battle.

The French had twelve sail-of-the-line and five frigates, carrying 976
guns and 9500 men. Byng had thirteen sail-of-the-line (having been
reinforced at Gibraltar), four frigates and a sloop-of-war, carrying
948 guns and 7000 men.

About three o’clock Byng made signal for his ships to approach and
engage the enemy in an oblique direction, so as to avoid exposing them
to a raking fire as they approached the French line, which was lying
waiting for them, with main-top-sails aback. The signal was to bear
away two points, but Admiral West, who was leading, misinterpreted the
signal, bore away seven points, and brought the French to action in
a manner which it would have been well for the Commander-in-chief to
have followed; for had West’s mode of attack been generally adopted
in the British fleet, it would have saved Byng’s life as well as some
disgrace to the British navy. Byng shortly bore up to the support
of his Rear-admiral, but the Intrepid, the last ship of the leading
division, soon had her fore-top-mast shot away, and in an entirely
unaccountable manner, threw all the ships astern of her into confusion.
Such a loss, with the wind on her quarter, ought not to have occasioned
any trouble, as the other ships could pass her to leeward. The next
ships luffed up, to pass her to windward, but, in fact, did not pass
her at all, remaining on her weather quarter, nor did several other of
the rear ships, including Byng’s flag-ship, the Ramillies, of 90 guns.
This ship did not get into action at all, although her crew wasted much
ammunition by firing while completely out of gunshot. In this she was
imitated by four other heavy ships. The division of Admiral West, who
was really in action, suffered a good deal, and would probably have
fallen into the hands of the French, if the latter had not, after about
three hours’ cannonading, filled, and made sail out of action.

After this partial and rather disgraceful affair Byng returned to
Gibraltar, leaving the English garrison of Fort Philip to its fate.

The French account of the action was the first to reach England. It
claimed decided advantage for the French, and stated that the English
had appeared unwilling to fight; that the engagement was not general;
and that, on the next morning, to the surprise of the French Admiral,
the English fleet had disappeared. Most of this was true; indeed, all
of it, except West’s gallant fight.

Immense indignation was excited in England by this news; and this
excitement was fostered by many in authority.

Without waiting for Byng’s despatches, the Admiralty appointed Sir
Edward Hawke and Admiral Saunders to supersede Byng and West, directing
Hawke to place them both under arrest, and send them home prisoners, to
England. This feverish and unusual haste had the effect upon the public
mind of a condemnation of Byng. Hawke and Saunders reached Gibraltar on
the 3d of July; and Byng, West, and other officers arrested, reached
England on the 26th of that month.

Byng was immediately placed in close confinement, and his younger
brother, who had hastened to see him, was so struck by the abuse of the
Admiral in every town he passed through that at sight of him he was
taken suddenly ill, and died in convulsions. Byng had been burned in
effigy in all the large towns, before he arrived in England; and his
place in the country was mobbed, and the house with difficulty saved
from destruction.

The streets and shops were filled with caricatures and libelous
ballads, abusing the ministry, as well as Byng; the ministry being held
responsible popularly for not having sent an efficient fleet sooner.

Such public excitement and universal condemnation, upon slight
knowledge of the facts, was most unusual, and most unjust to the
Admiral, who had faults enough to answer for.

From Portsmouth he was sent to Greenwich, to await trial. Here he
was again in close confinement, and an impression was sought to be
conveyed to the public that he desired to make his escape.

But Byng always manifested a desire to be put upon his trial, and
seemed, to the last, confident of an honorable acquittal.

In December he was taken back to Portsmouth, with the same parade of
guards as when he had been brought up.

The Court-martial to try him assembled at Portsmouth, on board the St.
George, on the 28th of December, 1756, and sat every succeeding day,
except Sunday, until the 27th of the following month.

The charges against him were seventeen in number, but the court ignored
most of them, and only imputed blame to Byng in that, during the
engagement, he did not do his utmost to “take, seize and destroy” the
ships of the French, and to assist such of his chief officers as were
engaged.

The prisoner’s conduct fell under a part of an Article of War providing
for such offence; and the court had no other alternative than to pass
sentence of death upon the unfortunate Admiral, as provided in the
Article.

But as all evidence showed that he did not lack personal courage, the
court refused to find him guilty of “cowardice or disaffection,” and
earnestly recommended him to mercy.

In a letter to the Admiralty, signed by every member of the court,
they say, “we cannot help laying the distress of our minds before your
Lordships, in finding ourselves under the necessity of condemning a man
to death from the great severity of the 12th Article of War, _part_ of
which he falls under, and which admits of no mitigation, even if the
crime should be committed by an error of judgment; and therefore, for
our own conscience’s sake, we pray your Lordships, in the most earnest
manner, to recommend him to his Majesty’s clemency.”

This the Lords of the Admiralty did not do, but simply requested
the King to submit the case to the twelve judges, as to whether the
sentence was a legal one. There had been no question of its legality.
The judges declared the sentence legal.

On the very same day they did so, the Lords of the Admiralty, at
the head of whom was Lord Temple, signed a warrant for carrying the
sentence into execution, on February 28th.

Admiral Forbes, one of the Board of Admiralty, refused to sign
it; and the sentence was generally considered by naval officers
cruel in the extreme. Admiral West demanded a revision of the 12th
Article, and declared he would resign unless it was abrogated. Wm.
Pitt characterized it as unjustly severe, but it was only modified
twenty-two years afterwards, by inserting, after the word _death_,
“or to inflict such other punishment as the nature and degree of the
offence shall be found to deserve.”

As Byng was a member of the House of Commons it was necessary to expel
him before execution, and this led to a long and acrimonious debate as
to an appeal to the throne for mercy. Nothing was done, however. Byng’s
political enemies were too strong for his friends, among whom was Mr.
Fox, and pardon was no longer hoped for. In the meantime the execution
had been postponed, but was finally ordered for the 14th of March. This
decision was met by Byng almost with cheerfulness, as he was to be
relieved from imprisonment, indignities and protracted anxiety, which
had lasted for seven months.

The sentence was carried into effect on the day appointed, on board
the Monarch, in Portsmouth Harbor. About noon, having taken leave of
two friends and a clergyman who had attended him, Byng walked out of
the state cabin on to the quarter-deck, where two files of marines
were drawn up to execute the sentence. He advanced with a firm and
deliberate step, and composed and resolute countenance, and wished
to suffer with his face uncovered; but his friends represented that
perhaps his look might intimidate the marines, and prevent them from
taking proper aim. So he allowed a handkerchief to be tied over his
eyes, and kneeling on a cushion, dropped his handkerchief as a signal
for the marines to fire. Five balls passed through his body, and he
dropped dead instantly. The time consumed from the moment he left the
cabin until his body was in its coffin was just three minutes.

He left a paper containing a solemn protest against the malice and
persecution he had encountered, and saying that he felt justice would
ultimately be done his memory. He also declared that he had done his
duty, to the best of his judgment, and that he forgave his enemies.

Byng had not been a popular officer; something of a martinet, he was
cold and haughty in manner, but no one had ever accused him of want of
personal courage, any more than his gallant father. He was opinionated,
and self-willed, and it was shown on his trial that, if he had listened
to the sensible and seamanlike suggestions of Gardner, the captain of
his flag-ship, the result of his engagement with Galissonière might
have been different, and have prevented him from taking refuge under
the decision of a Council-of-war partly composed of the land officers,
passengers in the fleet, which had much hurt the pride of the navy. It
was by advice of this Council that he withdrew from Minorca.

Byng’s execution, in spite of his manifest lack of criminality, was
an opprobrium to the ministers of two administrations, for he was
denounced and persecuted as a coward and traitor under that of the Duke
of Newcastle and Lord Anson, while the Duke of Devonshire and Lord
Temple sanctioned his death.

The court which tried him expressly acquitted him of cowardice and
treachery, and complained of the severity of the law which awarded the
punishment of death on a _secondary_ charge, recommending him to mercy.

The famous Voltaire remarked that the English had just shot an Admiral
“_pour encourager les autres_.”

[Illustration: VENETIAN GALLEY OF THE 16TH CENTURY.

(A specimen of the Venetian Fleet at the Battle of Lepanto.)]

XIII.

SIR EDWARD HAWKE AND CONFLANS. A. D. 1759.

It may be of interest to have some account of the successor of
the ill-fated Admiral Byng, in the command of the fleet in the
Mediterranean.

Sir Edward Hawke, who was born in 1705, and died in 1781, was the
son of a barrister. He entered the Navy early, and in 1733 had risen
to the command of a ship. In an engagement with the French, off
Toulon, in 1744, he broke from the line of battle to engage a vessel
of the enemy; and, although he caused her to strike her colors, he
was dismissed from the service for the breach of discipline. He was,
however, restored almost immediately, by the King’s command, and in
1747 made a Rear-Admiral. In October of that year he was sent with a
squadron to intercept a large fleet of French merchant vessels bound to
the West Indies, under convoy of nine men-of-war, and many transports
filled with troops. Coming up with them off Isle d’Aix, he succeeded,
after a severe struggle, in capturing six of the men-of-war, but
darkness coming on most of the convoy escaped. The delay of the French
expedition, caused by this action, contributed very materially to the
capture of Cape Breton. In consequence of his success, Hawke was
made a Knight Commander of the Bath; and soon after became Member of
Parliament for Bristol.

In 1748 he was made a Vice-Admiral, and in 1755 an Admiral; and the
following year succeeded Admiral Byng--but much too late to succor
Minorca.

Hawke had no opportunity of again distinguishing himself until 1759,
when he was in command of the squadron blockading Brest. Having been
driven by stress of weather into Torbay, he sailed from thence to
resume his station off Brest, on the 14th of November, and on the same
day Admiral Conflans put to sea with a strong fleet-though not equal to
that of Hawke.

The latter conjectured that the French had gone to Quiberon Bay, to
attack an English squadron cruising there, and he pressed sail in that
direction. Owing to strong head winds it was the 20th before he arrived
off Belleisle. When that island bore about east, the French fleet was
discovered. The weather was thick, and it was blowing a very fresh gale
of wind from the northwest, with a heavy sea.

Hawke made all haste to get his ships together, and then sent one of
them in to make the land, and ascertain the exact position. Soon after
the weather cleared, and the French fleet was seen, crowding sail to
get away; and Hawke ordered a part of his fleet in chase, and followed
with the rest. The fresh gale rendered it impossible for either fleet
to carry much sail. Early in the afternoon the leading English ships
caught up with the French rear, and a very animated action ensued. The
French Rear-Admiral, Verger, in the Formidable, 80, was set upon by
five or six ships at once, and was obliged to surrender, after having
had two hundred men killed. The English Magnanime, 74, Captain Lord
Howe, soon became closely engaged with the Thesée, 74; but the latter
being disabled, dropped astern, and was engaged by the Torbay, while
Howe pushed on in search of a fresh opponent, which he found in the
Héros, 74. Captain de Kersaint, of the Thesée, imagining from a slight
lull in the wind that he could fight his lower deck guns, unfortunately
tried the hazardous experiment, and commenced firing at the Torbay.
Captain Keppel, of the latter ship, followed de Kersaint’s example, and
narrowly escaped the same fate. A heavy squall struck the Thesée, and
she filled and went down; and out of her crew of 800 men only twenty
were saved by the British boats. The Torbay shipped a great deal of
water, but, by great exertions, was preserved. The Superbe, a French
70-gun ship, also capsized and sank, from the same cause. At 5 P.M.
the Héros surrendered to Howe, and anchored, but the sea ran so high
that they could not lower a boat to take possession of her. The night
came on very dark, and exceedingly tempestuous, and, being among the
rocks and shoals of a treacherous coast, and without pilots, it was
considered prudent to discontinue the chase, and anchor. During the
night the Resolution, 74, drove on shore, and was totally wrecked, with
the loss of most of her crew.

At daybreak of the next day the Héros was discovered aground, and the
flag-ship of Conflans, the Soleil Royal, dismasted. Shortly after being
discovered she cut her cables, and also went on shore. The Essex, a 64,
was ordered to stand in and destroy her, but that ship got on a sand
bank and was wrecked; her crew, however, being saved. The two French
vessels which were on shore were finally set on fire, and destroyed.
Seven or eight others, by their knowledge of the coast, had got to the
mouth of the river Vilaine, and by means of taking out their guns,
crossed the bar, and reached a place of security.

In effecting all this damage and loss upon the enemy’s fleet, the loss
in killed and wounded among the English must have been severe. But in
those days they were not very particular in reporting such things. For
his success, under exceptional difficulties and dangers, Sir Edward
Hawke received the thanks of Parliament, and a pension of two thousand
pounds per annum.

In 1765 he was appointed Vice-Admiral of Great Britain, and First Lord
of the Admiralty; and in 1776 was raised to the peerage, under the
title of Baron Hawke of Towton.

[Illustration: BUCENTORO

(Barge of the Doges, used annually, on Ascension Day, in the Ceremony
of “Venice Wedding the Adriatic.”)]

DE GRASSE AND RODNEY. A. D. 1782.

Francis Joseph Paul, Count de Grasse, Marquis de Grasse-Tilly, Count de
Bar, and Lieutenant-General of the marine forces of France, was born
in 1723, of a noble Provençal family, and was destined from childhood
to enter the order of Malta. At eleven years of age he went to sea in
the galleys of the Order, and made several cruises in the Levant. In
1740 the young sailor entered the French naval service, and in 1747
was serving in the frigate Emerald, in the squadron of La Jonquiere,
which was convoying to Pondichery twenty-five ships of the French East
India Company. The squadron, which consisted of six ships-of-the-line
and six frigates, was met off Cape Finisterre, by a fleet of seventeen
English ships, commanded by Anson. After a vigorous resistance most of
the French ships were captured, and De Grasse was taken a prisoner to
England, where he remained two years.

Upon his return home he was promoted, and continued to cruise in
various parts of the world, and was especially employed in surveying
the Guinea coast.

In January, 1762, he served in the West Indies, as captain of a
line-of-battle ship, and soon after his return was made a Chevalier of
St. Louis, and served in the French fleet which bombarded Sallee. In
1772 he commanded a ship in the squadron of the Count d’Orvilliers,
and about the time of the breaking out of the American Revolution
was present at a naval battle off Ushant, in which he particularly
distinguished himself.

In 1779 he went out to the West Indies, in command of four
line-of-battle ships and seven frigates, to join the fleet of Count
d’Estaing, off Martinique, and participated in the action of July 6th,
between d’Estaing and Admiral Byron. The following year he took part,
in the same latitude, in the three battles between the Count de Guichen
and Admiral Rodney, after the last of which he returned to France.

At the commencement of 1781 he was sent out with an important convoy,
to Martinique. He sailed from Brest on March 24th, with twenty-three
ships-of-the-line, carrying troops, and having on board a very large
sum of money, and a quantity of arms and ammunition, all intended for
the succor of the young and struggling Republic of the United States.

On the twenty-eighth of April De Grasse arrived off Port Royal,
Martinique, where he found eighteen English line-of-battle ships,
detached from Admiral Sir George Rodney’s fleet, and under the command
of Rear-Admiral Sir Samuel Hood, who was there to oppose the landing of
the convoy at Martinique.

Hood, recognizing the superior force of De Grasse, contented himself
with distant firing, and did not attempt to engage; De Grasse chased
him off to the westward of Saint Lucie, and then returned to Martinique
Road with his convoy.

Soon after he left there, to attack, in concert with the Marquis de
Bouillé, the English island of Tobago; and, on June 1st obtained
possession of the chief town of that island. De Grasse then sailed
for San Domingo, took on board three thousand soldiers; touched at
Havana, where he effected a loan; and then came through the Bahama
Channel, a route not then used by large ships, to the American coast;
which he followed up until he entered the Chesapeake. Here he, with
his fleet, and in concert with General Washington, made the well known
dispositions which led to the surrender of Cornwallis, at Yorktown.

On September 5th, hearing of the approach of the English fleet, De
Grasse left his anchorage in Lynnhaven Bay, just inside of Cape Henry,
and put to sea. Bougainville commanded the van division of his fleet,
in the Auguste, 80; De Grasse himself the centre, in the Ville de
Paris, 104; and the Chevalier de Monteil the rear division, in the
Languedoc, 80.

The English fleet, of twenty line-of-battle ships, was commanded by
Admirals Graves, Hood and Drake.

A partial engagement followed, which was mostly confined to the van
divisions of the two fleets, and which continued about two hours and a
half. Four or five days were consumed in manœuvres, De Grasse not being
able to bring Graves to a general engagement, and finally the French
fleet returned to their anchorage in Lynnhaven Bay; having, on the
return, captured two English frigates.

To De Grasse and his fleet certainly belong a considerable share in
the glory of the surrender of Cornwallis’ army, and of the consequent
firm establishment of American independence. In recognition of this,
Congress offered De Grasse four pieces of cannon, taken at Yorktown; of
which the French King authorized his acceptance; and they were placed
in his Chateau of Tilly, with a suitable inscription engraved upon them.

Returning with his fleet to Martinique, he made several expeditions
against the English islands; and had also several partial engagements
with Sir Samuel Hood, in none of which he was very successful.

Some months elapsed in this manner, and the month of April, 1782,
arrived. De Grasse was on his way to join a Spanish squadron, on the
coast of San Domingo, when he fell in with the English fleet again,
near Dominica.

In consequence of the junction of Rodney and Hood, the English now
numbered thirty-six ships-of-the-line, fourteen frigates, three
sloops-of-war, and two fire-ships. Admiral Rodney had his flag in
the Formidable, 90; Sir Samuel Hood was in the Barfleur, 90; and
Rear-Admiral Drake was in the Princessa, 70.

De Grasse at this time had about thirty line-of-battle ships, and a
proportion of frigates, but was hampered by a convoy of about one
hundred and fifty merchant vessels.

Sir Samuel Hood’s division was in the van of the English fleet, which,
having got the sea breeze early, stretched to the northward in chase,
while the centre and rear were still becalmed. The French, on the
starboard tack, observing the isolated position of the English van,
bore up, in hopes of cutting them off. De Grasse, in this evolution,
executed a novel and ingenious plan, which was done full justice to by
his adversaries.

The British van was, about 10 A.M., hove to, to enable their centre and
rear to close. In consequence, the French ships, by keeping under way,
were enabled to manœuvre as they chose. Hood kept his division well
closed up, however, opposing vigorous and well directed broadsides to
his enemy’s attacks. He thus resisted De Grasse until the sea breeze
reached the rest of the English fleet, when the French Admiral tacked
and stood inshore to rejoin his fleet and convoy. When the sea breeze
reached them the English were to windward; but the sailing of the
French ships was so superior that they could not come up with them.
This was the end of the operation, except some distant and ineffectual
cannonading.

The two succeeding days were occupied in chasing; but it was evident
that only a change in the wind, or some accident, would enable Admiral
Rodney to force an engagement; so superior were the French in sailing
qualities.

On the 12th of April the French were again seen, near the Saintes, and
one of their ships, having lost her foremast and bowsprit, was seen, in
tow of a frigate, standing in for Guadaloupe. Rodney made signal for
four ships to chase, which being perceived, De Grasse bore up, with his
fleet, to protect them. But finding that by persevering in this course,
he should give the British the weather-gage, he gave up his intention,
and formed line on the port tack. Rodney, perceiving an engagement
inevitable, recalled his chasing ships, and made signal to form line of
battle on the starboard tack, Rear-Admiral Drake’s division leading.
The two fleets gradually neared each other, the French only just
crossing the bows of the English, to windward.

At 8 A.M. the leading English ship, the Marlborough, 74, opened the
action, firing upon the French centre and rear. Sir George Rodney
then made signal for “close action,” and Drake’s division was at once
closely engaged. The rest of the English were nearly becalmed, as were
the French soon after. The wind then hauled to the southward, and while
this completely disarranged the French line, it did not so much affect
the English, and Rodney, perceiving an opening in his adversaries’
line, kept a close luff and passed through it, cutting off their rear.
It is not thought that Rodney deliberately planned this, but it was the
first time that the stiff notion of preserving a line-of-battle at all
hazards, and when advantage could be gained from departing from it, was
broken through.

This movement of Rodney’s was the main cause of the loss of the
battle to the French; and although many assert that the preservation
of his line would have rendered the victory more decisive, yet when
the sailing qualities of the two fleets are taken into account, it
is very doubtful. By pursuing the plan he did, Rodney separated his
ship, and the six ships which followed him, from the van, part of the
centre, and the rear. It is said that his manœuvre was inadvertently
performed; but this could hardly be, for the Formidable luffed out of
line, which could not have been done inadvertently and without distinct
intention, and it is, therefore, not fair to impute the movement, and
the consequent victory, to mere accident. A French writer distinctly
says that “Rodney’s able manœuvres completely got the better of De
Grasse.” With the fine and well trained fleet which the French Admiral
commanded, it is probable that no great advantage would have accrued
to the English under the old plan of fleet fighting. The advocates of
the theory that Rodney’s movement was an accident have some foundation
for what they allege, however, in that Sir Alan Gardner, who commanded
the Duke, 90, Rodney’s second astern, was heard to say, “the wind was
very light at the commencement of the action, but as it advanced it
fell calm; my ship _dropped through_ the enemy’s line, and I, thinking
I was wrong, and out of my station, did everything I could to get back
again, but was unable to do so.” The state of the wind prevented Hood
from following Rodney through the French fleet, and, by continuing his
course he soon became opposed to the French van, separated from the
centre, and here a warm and close action took place, and continued,
until at length the smoke and concussion of the firing, which had also
“killed” the wind, so completely enshrouded the ships of both fleets,
that a cessation of firing was necessary. About noon the smoke cleared
away, by which time the French ships, to effect a re-junction, all bore
up, and were seen to leeward, retreating, and in considerable disorder,
and a general chase succeeded. The English victory was complete, if
not overwhelming. Five French line-of-battle ships were taken or
destroyed; the Glorieux, Cæsar, Hector, Ardent, and the flag-ship Ville
de Paris. The English accounts say that three of their line-of-battle
ships concentrated upon the Ville de Paris; the French accounts say
five. Certain it is that she made a gallant fight for hours after the
battle was decided; and when, at last, she hauled down her flag, she
had one hundred and twenty killed, and almost all the rest more or less
wounded. Count De Grasse himself, although he had not left the deck,
escaped unscratched, as did a very few others on board.

The Ville de Paris was considered the finest ship afloat at that time.
She measured 2300 tons, and had been presented to Louis XV, by the
City of Paris, at the close of the preceding war. She is said to have
had a large amount of specie on board. She was towed to Jamaica by her
captors, but was so damaged that she foundered in an attempt to take
her to England; as did the Hector and Glorieux. The Cæsar, a very fine
ship, was burned on the night following her capture, and four hundred
of her crew, as well as an English lieutenant and fifty seamen who
were in charge, lost their lives. In fact, not one of the French ships
captured in this battle ever reached England.

The victory caused great exultation in England. Sir George Rodney
and Sir Samuel Hood were both made peers, and Rear-Admiral Drake and
Commodore Affleck made baronets. Public monuments were erected in
Westminster Abbey to those captains who were killed.

The French loss was very heavy, some reported it as 3000, in killed and
wounded. The English loss was reported as 253 killed and 816 wounded.

As for the French ships, twenty-four of which escaped, they were at
last collected, in a very damaged condition, under the Marquis de
Vaudrueil, but they were obliged to abandon the West India islands.

De Grasse was sent a prisoner to England, where he was most courteously
received by the King and court circles. Indeed, he was accused of
enjoying his popularity too much, and of lowering the dignity which
became a prisoner of his rank. He was instrumental in forwarding the
negotiations which led to the peace between England and the United
States, which was concluded at Versailles, in 1783.

Upon his return from captivity De Grasse was tried for the loss of the
battle of April 12th, and honorably acquitted; but he was never again
employed, and died in Paris, at the age of sixty-five.

The opinion concerning De Grasse, both in France and England, was that
he had brilliant courage, but a lack of judgment.

Sir George Bridge Rodney, the victor in the battle of April 12th, 1782,
was born in 1717, and survived the battle ten years. George the First
was his godfather, and with such patronage his advancement in the Navy
was rapid.

In 1759 he commanded at the bombardment of Havre; and two years
afterwards he captured the French West India islands of Saint Lucie,
Saint Pierre, Grenada and Saint Vincent. He was made an Admiral in
1771; but, in consequence of debts contracted in an election for
Parliament, he was obliged to take refuge on the Continent. While in
France he was, one day, at the table of the Marshal de Biron, and was
holding forth upon his hopes of one day defeating the combined French
and Spanish fleets. Biron jokingly offered to pay his debts, so as to
enable him to put his threat into execution.

Rodney, whose bravery and ability were equal to his arrogance and
self-conceit, justified what he had said in less than three years,
for, in February, 1780, he utterly defeated Don Juan de Langara, and a
Spanish fleet, off Cape St. Vincent, being the first naval battle of
that name; and in April, 1782, he defeated De Grasse. He received the
thanks of Parliament, the title of Baron, and a pension of two thousand
pounds, with reversion to his heirs.

[Illustration: LE SOLEIL ROYAL

(A famous French 120-Gun Ship, 17th Century, Built by Colbert.)]

[Illustration: HOWE’S ACTION OF JUNE 1ST, 1794.]

LORD HOWE AND THE FRENCH FLEET.

JUNE 1ST, A. D. 1794.

This naval battle is memorable as the first of any importance in the
long series which followed, in the wars between the English and the
French Revolutionary government, the Republic, and the Empire.

Lord Howe, the English Commander-in-chief, had had experience in the
last war of the English with France, and on our own coast during the
Revolutionary war. But some of his captains and most of his junior
officers had no experience of war, and this, perhaps, is one of the
great reasons why the battle of the first of June did not have the
magnificent results afterwards obtained by the British ships against
the French.

At the time of the battle in question Howe was an old man; and the
fatigues and anxieties of the week preceding the action must have told
upon him.

In his youth and middle age he had been celebrated for his endurance
and coolness in emergency, but at sixty-nine he was not able to bear
the strain of hard and continuous service so well, and so the results
of his great action were incomplete as compared with those of Nelson.

To illustrate Howe’s natural disposition, we may relate one or two
well-known anecdotes.

While captain of the Princess Amelia, of 80 guns, the flag-ship of the
Duke of York, the lieutenant of the watch suddenly appeared at his
bedside, at night, and called out, in great agitation, “My Lord! the
ship is on fire, close to the magazine; but don’t be frightened, my
Lord, it will soon be got under.”

“Frightened, Sir; what do you mean by that? I never was frightened in
my life!” and looking the lieutenant full in the face, he said to him,
coolly, “Pray, Sir, how does a man feel when he is frightened? I need
not ask how he looks. I will be with you immediately; but take care
that His Royal Highness is not disturbed.”

At another time, when Captain of the Magnanime, he was obliged to
anchor in a gale of wind, on a lee shore. In the course of the night
the wind increased, almost to a hurricane, but Howe, having two anchors
ahead, went down to his cabin, and took up a book. Presently the
lieutenant of the watch came below hurriedly, and, with a woful face,
said, “I am sorry to inform you, my Lord, that the anchors are coming
home.” “They are much in the right,” replied Howe, coolly, “I don’t
know who would stay abroad on such a night as this.”

But to return to the great battle of the first of June:--

In the latter part of May, 1793, Lord Howe hoisted his flag on board
the Queen Charlotte, at Portsmouth. She was a ship of 100 guns. His
principal instructions were in regard to protecting the English trade
from the French privateers.

By the middle of July he put to sea, and steered down Channel with
twenty-three sail-of-the-line, in two divisions, under Vice-admiral
Graves and Sir Alexander Hood. For several months the doings of this
fleet might be comprised in saying that they had occasional glimpses
of squadrons and fleets of the French, varied by gales of wind, which
invariably did much damage, and necessitated the putting in at some
western port of England. The fleet was so continually in trouble,
indeed, and so much in port, that great dissatisfaction was felt.

Howe expressed himself as decidedly against keeping a heavy fleet of
line-of-battle ships at sea, at the mouth of the Channel, and in the
Bay of Biscay, during the autumnal and winter gales. Nor did he believe
in the blockade of Brest, at that season, although it was his enemy’s
great naval port. He said that “to keep a fleet at sea, watching an
enemy’s fleet lying snugly in port, and ready to start the moment the
weather has driven the blockading squadron from the coast, and probably
disabled many of them, appeared to be a mistaken system, and ruinous
in the extreme to the ships themselves, hateful to the seamen, and
extravagant beyond measure in expense.”

In fact, long periods of this kind had so much weakened the larger
English ships that private yards had to be employed for repairs, as
well as building new ships.

What Lord Howe recommended was, keeping a fleet at St. Helen’s
Roadstead, near Spithead, all ready for sea, while a few frigates
watched the enemy’s movements. Another fleet he recommended to lie at
Torbay, where, in event of the enemy’s putting to sea from Brest, the
contending fleets might meet on equal terms, being each fresh from
port; while a blockading fleet, keeping the sea for months, and exposed
to all kinds of weather, was not on a par with one fresh from the
dockyards; and still less in a condition to follow them abroad. “The
public does not care for such considerations, but judge by the results,
and require a battle and a victory; or else blame must rest somewhere,
most appropriately on the shoulders of the commander-in-chief.”

There was plenty of this fault-finding in England, in 1793. The French
fleet was known to be often at sea--had been seen by Lord Howe--and yet
no battle had been fought, no captures made.

The caricaturists and the press were very hard upon Lord Howe, but he
was not a man to be very much affected by sarcasm or abuse. He wished
to save wear and tear of ships and men, and to improve the discipline
and health of his fleet. The laurels earned by the veteran sailor were
too deeply planted to be plucked away by scribblers, and Mr. Pitt and
Lord Grenville would not listen to Howe’s retirement, which he urged,
on account of infirmities and advancing age.

The sequel proved that they were right.

In the middle of April, 1794, the fleet, having been repaired,
assembled at St. Helen’s. Howe had thirty-two sail-of-the-line, six of
which, with some frigates, were detailed to convoy in and out of the
Channel the East India Company’s ships and the West Indian traders. On
May 2d the fleet put to sea, and cruised, generally in bad weather, off
Ushant, and on the 19th discovered that the French fleet had sailed
from Brest. They were twenty-four sail-of-the-line and ten frigates,
and had come out to give protection to an immensely large and valuable
homeward-bound convoy of French merchant ships, from North America and
the West Indies.

On the 25th, after a fruitless search for the enemy, two French
corvettes steered into the midst of the English fleet, mistaking it for
their own. They were both taken. Not to diminish the efficiency of his
ships by sending prize crews, Howe destroyed them, as well as several
other prizes and recaptures. He then continued his search for the main
French fleet.

The following is, in the main, an extract from the private journal of
Lord Howe himself. It is to be premised that, on the morning of May
28th, with a fresh southwest wind and a rough sea, he had sighted a
portion of the French fleet, bearing southeast.

“May 28th. They (the French) were some hours before they had formed
their line, on the larboard tack, which they proceeded to do while
three or four leagues distant; the British fleet being in the order of
sailing, with the advanced squadron, under Rear Admiral Paisley, on
the weather quarter of the body of the fleet; the whole under as much
sail as the weather would safely permit, standing to the eastward, by
the wind. At 11 A.M. tacked to approach nearer the enemy, the centre of
their fleet then in the S. S. W.

“At 4 in the evening tacked back to the eastward. Soon after 5 o’clock,
the Bellerophon arriving up abreast of the rear ship of the enemy,
the Revolutionnaire, of three decks, though too far distant for close
action, began to fire upon her, and received the fire from that ship,
and some others ahead of her. But observing that the other ships of the
advance squadron, the Russell, Marlborough and Thunderer, though gained
more to windward of the enemy, had shortened sail, and the two last
backed their main-top-sails, and firing at the enemy from a distance
far too considerable, their particular signals were made to attack the
enemy’s rear; and soon after the general signal to the same effect. The
Bellerophon, having her main-top-sail lowered and aback, and making
signal to denote that her main-top-mast was disabled, the other ships
also, of the advanced squadron, still keeping astern, with little sail
set, and firing far distant, the general signal was made for assisting
ships in action; and a few minutes after the particular signals for the
Russell and Marlborough for the same purpose; enforcing it by a gun,
to obtain the notice that was not duly shown to the former signal.”
In other words these ships were not behaving very handsomely, and the
beginning of their collision with the French did not augur well for
success.

“The three aforementioned ships thereupon made sail to the eastward,
the Marlborough having been observed to have set her courses, and the
Leviathan pressing forward, commenced action with the rear ship of the
enemy, to the relief of the Bellerophon.

“As the day was closing in, the Audacious was seen to advance; to
the attack of the Revolutionnaire, in apparent very close action.
The body of the enemy’s fleet keeping on in order of battle, and
being approached to about three miles distance from them; their force
consisting of twenty-six ships-of-the-line, besides frigates, it was
judged requisite to form the British fleet in such order of battle
ahead as the ships by their accidental situation at the time could
be so arranged, ahead and astern of the Charlotte, to be in suitable
disposition for any service which might occur in the night; nothing
more of the action being distinguishable, and the firing ceasing at
dark. Information was given, by the Marlborough and Niger, that the
sternmost ship of the enemy was beaten out of their line by, and
supposed to have struck to, the Audacious.”

The crews of the Audacious and Russell declare that the Revolutionnaire
struck; but whether she did or not, she was clearly beaten and
defenceless, as she only answered three guns from her one hundred and
twenty to the last broadside of the Audacious. The Revolutionnaire’s
loss was nearly 400 men. The Audacious was so crippled that she could
hardly keep clear of the French fleet, but after an engagement with a
frigate and a corvette made her way to Plymouth. The Revolutionnaire
afterwards lost her masts, but was towed into Rochefort.

Thus ended the first day’s collision.

For the next two days indecisive manœuvres took place. There was a
very fresh breeze, heavy seas, fogs, and various other reasons why no
general action could be brought on. During this time Lord Howe passed
through the French fleet in his flag-ship, but as only one or two of
his ships were able to follow him no general action occurred. One or
two of the ships of each fleet lost masts in the heavy sea, and between
the 29th and 31st of May Rear-Admiral Nielly joined Admiral Villaret
de Joyeuse, with five line-of-battle ships, and then left the French
fleet. This left twenty-six line-of-battle ships to the French; many of
these had very revolutionary names, such as Tyrannicide, Convention,
Trente et un Mai, Montagne, Jacobin, Republicaine, etc., and many were
very large ships, one being of 120 guns, and two of 110.

During these days Lord Howe was far from satisfied with the behavior
of some of his captains, and we find in his journal the following:
“The centre of the British fleet drawing fast up with the van, the
signal was _repeatedly_ made for the Cæsar, leading the line, and then
_under treble reefed topsails and foresail_, to make more sail;” and
this ship, by her conduct, threw out the whole line, and interfered
materially with the operations of the day.

Again Lord Howe says, “the ships of the fleet (called up by signals,
and appointed to fall into line, ahead and astern of the flag-ship, as
most convenient) came forward to meet her, which had stood toward them,
as the enemy approached. When arrived they came up so crowded together
that they afforded an opportunity for the enemy to have fired upon them
with great advantage. But they ‘(the French)’ having covered their
disabled ships, and giving a distant fire as they passed to leeward
of our fleet, wore again to the westward; and the English fleet,
preserving the weather gage, kept on after them.” “Most of the time
the Queen Charlotte was engaged the sea was so rough that much water
was taken in at the lower deck ports, and the pumps were constantly at
work.”

Lord Howe goes on to say, “soon after noon on the 31st, the fog
clearing off, the enemy were seen to leeward, forming again in order
of battle.” “But before our fleet could get abreast of them the
day was too far advanced for bringing them promptly to action. It
was, therefore, deemed expedient to keep the wind, with frigates of
observation to notify any change in the enemy’s motions during the
ensuing night.”

It is hard in these days to realize the slow and laborious movements
of a fleet of the old line-of-battle ships. And it is also curious to
observe the adherence to old ideas in regard to battle, as well as the
lukewarmness, and want of conduct and seamanship, which amounted to
bad behavior, and which characterized some of the captains of Howe’s
fleet. As we shall see, further on, only one captain was brought to
a court-martial, and he was only lightly punished. Had the action of
the first of June been less successful, it is probable that more would
have been tried for misconduct, and disobedience of orders. But success
condones many offences. A few years after this a British fleet of the
force of Howe’s would have dashed at any French fleet, without regard
to the time of day, and not risked losing the enemy in the night, or
the chance of his changing his mind about fighting.

But to come to the decisive day, June 1st. It is impossible to follow
Lord Howe’s journal further, for, at the risk of being irreverent, we
must observe that the gallant and noble Lord’s English is almost as
much involved as that of those other English seamen, Captains Cuttle
and Bunsby.

The French fleet being six miles to leeward on the morning of June 1st,
Howe made signal that he intended to attack the enemy’s centre, and
engage to leeward. The British fleet filled away for the French, each
ship being directed to steer for and engage her proper opponent.

Both fleets were under single-reefed topsails, the French backing and
filling, to preserve their stations in their line, which extended from
east to west. The wind was very fresh, at south by west, and with the
signal to engage flying, Lord Howe closed his signal book, as the
matter was so clear that it was impossible for any captain to mistake
his duty.

The French first opened fire. The flag-ship of Lord Howe, setting a
noble example, steered for the Montagne, 120, receiving a heavy fire
from other ships in reaching her. The ship passed close under the
French flag-ship’s stern, giving her a tremendous raking broadside.
She was so close that the French ensign brushed the Queen Charlotte’s
rigging. In a moment she was attacked by the Jacobin, but succeeded in
giving her a like raking. The Queen Charlotte lost her fore-top-mast,
but, in spite of this, stuck to the Montagne, and killed and wounded
300 on board of her. At last the Montagne hauled out of the line, and
several other French vessels followed her, when Howe made signal for a
general chase.

It would be tedious to follow the action of the particular ships up to
this period of the battle. Suffice it to say that the fire was most
concentrated and deadly on both sides. Some of the French ships fought
most desperately. Among others, the Vengeur lost her masts, and lay
rolling her lower deck ports in the water, many of which had been torn
off or shot away by the English ship Brunswick. The Vengeur soon filled
with water, and although fast sinking, her colors were kept flying. By
great exertions of some of the English vessels, some 400 of her crew
were rescued, but many sank with the ship. Among the survivors were the
brave French Captain, Renaudin, and his son, only twelve years old.
Being taken off to different ships, each believed the other to have
perished. To their great joy, they met again in Portsmouth.

Many of the French ships which struck were enabled to make off
during the succeeding night, as the English had not been able to
take possession of them. But they secured the 80-gun ships, Sans
Pareil and Juste, and 74-gun ships, América, Impetueux, Achille, and
Northumberland, and the Vengeur, 74, was sunk.

The British loss in the battle was 1140, in killed and wounded. The
French loss is not exactly known, but was much greater.

The damage to the masts and rigging of the British ships generally was
so considerable that the 2d and 3d of the month were passed in securing
the injured masts, fixing jury-masts when required, and removing the
prisoners, and taking the six prizes in tow.

Fine weather prevailed, and light westerly breezes, and the fleet
arrived in the Channel on the 11th; part of it, under Rear-Admiral
Graves, going to Plymouth, and the rest, led by the Queen Charlotte,
anchoring at Spithead on the 13th of June.

It had been many a year since Portsmouth had seen the arrival of a
victorious fleet, with six of the enemy’s line-of-battle ships in tow.
Crowds flocked to witness it, from all parts of England; and to see the
landing of the 2300 prisoners.

Rear-Admirals Paisley and Bowyer each lost a leg, and Admiral Graves
was very badly wounded in the arm, while three English captains were
killed. There was no doubt about the behavior of these officers, but
the report of Lord Howe omitted the mention of many captains, most of
whom thought themselves aggrieved, and made a great commotion. The fact
appears to be that more were delinquent in the previous operations than
on the day of the great battle; and this, in many cases, was no doubt
due to want of seamanship and experience.

The Cæsar being especially mentioned in an unfavorable light, her
captain, Molloy, demanded a court-martial, which the Admiralty was
bound to grant. Lord Howe was much annoyed at this, and did all that
he could to prevent captain Molloy from persisting, but without avail.
Howe, like all others who had fought a successful action, did not
want the scandals and delinquencies of his command exposed to the
public gaze. After a long trial, Molloy was found delinquent, and was
dismissed from the command of his ship.

As regards the conduct of the other captains, it is certain that Howe’s
orders as to passing through the French line and engaging to leeward
were not carried into effect by a very large portion of his fleet.

In some this was caused by the bad sailing of the ships and by the
very compact form in which the French formed their line, so that
only five captains of the British fleet had the nerve to let their
ships “make their own way,” as the Queen Charlotte did, through the
French line. Signals were misunderstood, or not seen, in the smoke
and confusion, and Howe made, at last, a discretionary signal, which
left each captain to engage his opponent to windward or to leeward, as
circumstances might arise.

Howe’s fame as a naval commander will not bear comparison with some
others who were to immortalize themselves in the long wars which his
action inaugurated. But we must remember that this was the first great
naval battle of that eventful period, and that it had an immense
influence upon the French; as well as in forming the British Navy for
their future glorious achievements. Had the action of June 1st been
the last of that series of great actions, instead of the first, it is
probable that few ships of the French fleet would have escaped. Lord
Howe, although not making much complaint of his want of efficient
support, nevertheless felt the defection of some of his captains
strongly.

In the year 1799, not many months before his death, he wrote,
concerning Nelson’s splendid victory at the Nile, “I will only say, on
the splendid achievement of Nelson, that one of the most remarkable
features in the transaction consists in the eminently distinguished
conduct of _each_ of the captains of the squadron.” Perhaps it
never before happened that _every_ captain had equal opportunity to
distinguish himself in the same manner, or took equal advantage of it.

There is one point upon which Lord Howe’s conduct has been censured.
It is said that he gave way to the opinion of Sir Roger Curtis, his
Captain of the Fleet, who advised him not to pursue the five dismasted
French ships which went off unmolested, under sails set on the stumps
of their masts, and which succeeded in joining the rest of their
vessels.

The prevailing opinion in the English fleet certainly was that these
ships of the enemy were suffered to escape, when they might have been
captured with ease. That they were not captured was the fault of
having a Flag Officer at sea who was too old to command, and who had a
Fleet Captain who was not enterprising.

But the victory was sufficient, and settled the fate of the war, as far
as the naval part was concerned.

The general reader may be interested in some remarks and anecdotes
concerning the battle.

During the hottest part of the engagement between the Marlborough and
the Vengeur, the former ran the latter aboard to windward, her anchor
hooking the French ship’s fore shrouds and channels. The master of the
English ship wanted to cut her adrift, but Captain Harvey exclaimed,
“No! we have got her, and we will keep her.” “The ships then swung
broadside to broadside, and both paid off before the wind, locked
together, dropped out of line, and engaged furiously. So close were
these ships locked that the Marlborough was unable to open her midship
lower-deck ports, which were consequently blown off by her eager crew,
etc.”

The flag-ship, the Queen Charlotte, as in duty bound, set a brilliant
example to the rest of the fleet. On the 29th of May, when she broke
through the French line, she was followed, gallantly, by the Leviathan
and Bellerophon, commanded by Captains Lord Seymour, Conway and Hope,
and both these ships were most conspicuous in the whole engagement.

The foremast of the Leviathan was crippled, and in danger of falling,
and Lord Howe, observing this, stood to her rescue. Lord Seymour, in
his own journal, says, “quarter before four; being very near, and
pointing into the body of the French fleet, which had then appeared,
to succor their rear, the Queen Charlotte wearing, we did the same,
but not without exposing ourselves for a long time to be raked by the
French Admiral and three other ships, which had stood back to the
relief of two of their ships that were in danger of being cut off by
our fleet.

“On this occasion the gallant conduct of the Queen Charlotte, in coming
down to draw the enemy’s fire from the Leviathan, has made too strong
an impression upon my mind, and is too much the subject of general
applause on board of her, for me to resist expressing my sense of it,
and offering, in the name of all the officers, as well as my own, this
feeble though grateful tribute of our admiration of our noble chief,
Lord Howe.”

But the day most glorious for Howe was the 1st of June, when he broke
through the French line again, brushing the ensign of Admiral Villaret
Joyeuse’s flag-ship on the one side, and grazing, on the other, the
Jacobin’s mizzen shrouds with her jib-boom.

Collingwood, eleven years after, in the battle of Trafalgar, did much
the same thing, in the Sovereign, when he cut the line, and grazed the
stern of the Santa Anna.

Had not the Queen Charlotte’s fore-top-mast been shot away, and the
main-top-mast gone over the side just as the French Admiral’s fire had
about ceased, there is little doubt he would have captured the French
flag-ship; but she made off to leeward, and it was impossible for the
Charlotte to follow her. The French flag-ship’s hull was completely
knocked to pieces, and her battery rendered almost useless. The
tremendous broadsides which the Charlotte poured into her stern, in
passing through the line, made a hole large enough, the sailors said,
to row the Admiral’s barge through.

As the Queen Charlotte was coming down on the French line, determined
to pass through, it appeared so close and compact that Howe expressed a
doubt as to whether there was room to pass between the Montagne, 120,
and the Jacobin, 80, which had got partly under the lee of the former,
as if afraid of the Charlotte’s broadside, thus occupying the place the
Charlotte intended to take. Howe was determined either to go through,
or to run the French flag-ship or the Jacobin on board. His Master,
Bowen, in a blunt and resolute tone, called out, “That’s right, my
Lord, the Charlotte will make room for herself.”

On his first appointment to the flag-ship this unpolished but
shrewd and excellent seaman was in the habit, in addressing the
commander-in-chief, of so constantly using the expression “My Lord,”
that one day Howe said to him, “Bowen, pray, my good fellow, do give
over that eternal ‘My Lord! My Lord;’ d’ont you know I am called Black
Dick in the fleet?” This was his usual _sobriquet_ among the sailors.

Just as the Queen Charlotte was closing with the Montagne, Lord Howe,
who was himself conning the ship, called out to Bowen to starboard the
helm. On this Bowen remarked that if they did they would be on board
the next ship, the Jacobin. His lordship replied, sharply, “what is
that to you, sir?” Bowen, much nettled, said, in an undertone, “D--n
my very eyes if _I_ care, if _you_ d’ont. I’ll go near enough to singe
some of our whiskers.”

Howe heard him, and, turning to his Captain, said, “That’s a fine
fellow, Curtis!”

Lord Howe appears to have had but a dim conception of a joke. Shortly
after the return of his flag-ship to Portsmouth, he sent for the First
Lieutenant, Mr. Larcom, whom he thus addressed: “Mr. Larcom, your
conduct in the action has been such that it is necessary for you to
leave this ship.”

Larcom, who was as brave as the Admiral, and a good officer, and good
seaman, was perfectly thunder-struck, and, with tears in his eyes,
exclaimed “Good God! My Lord, what have I done? Why am I to leave the
ship? I have done my duty to the utmost of my power.”

“Very true, Sir,” said the Admiral, “but leave this ship you must;
and I have great pleasure in presenting you with this commission as
Commander, for your conduct on the late occasion.”

It appeared that it was at the solicitation of his Fleet-Captain, Sir
Roger Curtis, that Howe appointed the Cæsar to lead the van in the
order of battle of May 29th.

It was against Lord Howe’s own opinion. Circumstances occurred, on
the very day, which induced Lord Howe to place another ship in that
station. But he again yielded the point, at Curtis’ earnest request
to give Molloy another trial, the Admiral remarking, at the same
time, “You have mistaken your man; I have not.” On the 1st of June,
when the Cæsar hauled up, instead of going through the enemy’s line,
Howe, who was standing on the poop of the Queen Charlotte, tapped Sir
Roger Curtis on the shoulder, and, pointing to the Cæsar, said, “Look,
Curtis, there goes your friend. Who is mistaken now?”

Certainly Lord Howe’s biographer is mistaken in recording this anecdote
of the man whom he delights to honor. It is an old story, and has been
true of Admirals, in peace or war, time out of mind. But it shows a
culpable weakness in Howe, to allow himself to be swayed against his
own convictions by any one, in so vitally important a matter.

The conduct of the Marlborough, Captain Berkeley, is interesting, and
illustrates the phases of naval actions of that day.

The Marlborough first engaged the Impetueux for about twenty minutes,
when the French ship paid off, and dropped with her bowsprit over the
Marlborough’s quarter, where she lay exposed to a heavy raking fire.
Every one was driven from her decks, and some of the Marlborough’s men
boarded her, but were ordered back. Just then the three masts of the
French ship went over the side, and a 74 which was astern attempted
to weather and rake the Marlborough. But he met with such a fire
that he dropped on board his consort’s quarter, and then luffing up,
boarded the Marlborough upon the bow. But the steadiness of the English
small-arm men and the fire of her carronades prevented the French
from succeeding. In a few minutes this second ship’s masts also went
over, and they both lay, without firing a gun, without any colors,
and with no one on the upper deck. At last the English fleet came up
and took possession of them both. Captain Berkeley proceeds to say:
“I now attempted to back off from the two vessels, and unfortunately
accomplished it just as the French Admiral came under our stern and
raked us, by which he did us considerable damage, and carried away our
three masts. It was from this ship I received my wound, and, therefore,
the remainder is the account of my First Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Monckton then proceeds: “At the time Captain Berkeley was
obliged to quit the deck we were still on board, but backing clear of
our opponents. Our masts being then shot away by the three-decker under
our stern, carried away the ensign staff, and deprived us of hoisting
any colors for a few minutes. I ordered the wreck to be cleared away
from the color-chest, and spread a Union Jack at the sprit-sail yard,
and a St. George’s ensign on the stump of the foremast; but perceiving
that the latter was mistaken by some of our own ships for the
tri-colored flag, I ordered that flag to be cut off.

“At this time we were laying along the Impetueux, within pistol shot,
and finding she did not return a gun, I ordered our ship to cease
firing at her, and suffered them quietly to extinguish the flames,
which I could easily have prevented with our musketry. While clearing
away the wreck, the rear of the enemy’s fleet was coming up, and
perceiving that they must range close to us, and being determined never
to see the British flag struck, I ordered the men to lie down at their
quarters, to receive their fire, and return it afterwards, if possible.
But, being dismasted, she rolled so deep that our lower deck ports
could not be opened. The event was as I expected: the enemy’s rear
passed us to leeward, very close, and we fairly ran the gauntlet of
every ship which could get a gun to bear, but, luckily, without giving
us any shot between wind and water, or killing any men, except two, who
imprudently disobeyed their officers, and got up at their quarters.
Two of their ships, which had tacked, now came to windward of us, and
gave us their fire, upon which one of their dismasted ships, that had
struck, hoisted her national flag, but, upon our firing some guns at
her, she hauled it down again; and a three-decker, having tacked, also
stood toward us, with a full intention, I believe, to sink us, if
possible.

“The Royal George, however, who I suppose had tacked after her, came
up, and engaged her very closely, carried away her main and mizzen
masts, and saved the Marlborough from the intended close attack. I then
made the signal for assistance, on a boat’s mast, but this was almost
instantly shot away. At five the Aquila took us in tow, and soon after
we joined the fleet.”

A curious incident is said to have taken place on board this ship,
when lying entirely dismasted, and otherwise disabled, the captain and
second lieutenant severely wounded, and the ship so roughly treated
that a whisper of surrender was heard. Lieutenant Monckton resolutely
exclaimed, “he would be d----d if she ever should surrender, and that
he would nail her colors to the stump of the mast.” At that moment
a cock, having been liberated from a broken coop, suddenly perched
himself on the stump of the mainmast, clapped his wings, and crowed
aloud. In an instant three hearty cheers rang through the ship, and
there was no more talk of surrender. The cock was afterwards given to
the Governor of Plymouth, lived to a good old age, and was frequently
visited by the Marlborough’s men.

The Brunswick, 74, had a large figure-head of the Duke of that name,
with a laced cocked hat on. This hat was carried away by a shot,
during the battle. The crew sent a deputation to the captain to ask
him to give his own laced hat to supply the place; and he did so; the
carpenter nailing it on the Duke’s head, when they continued the action.

Nothing could exceed the gallant conduct of this ship, as we have
already noticed. The Defence, Captain Gambier, also behaved most
gallantly, being terribly cut up, and totally dismasted. She was one of
the few that passed through the enemy’s line, and got into the midst
of the French ships. Captain Gambier was an excellent officer, and a
gentleman of strict principles of religion and morality. At the close
of the action, Captain Pakenham, a rattling, good-humored Irishman,
hailed him from the Invincible, “Well, Jimmy, I see you are pretty well
mauled; but never mind, Jimmy, whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.”

When the Sans Pareil was taken possession of, the English Captain
Trowbridge was found on board, a prisoner, having been captured in the
Castor, when in charge of the Newfoundland convoy. On the morning of
the 1st of June, the French officers, seeing the British fleet under
easy sail, going parallel to the French line, taunted him by saying,
“there will be no fighting to-day; your Admiral will not venture
down.” “Wait a little,” said Trowbridge, “English sailors never like
to fight with empty stomachs; I see the signal flying for all hands
to breakfast; after which, take my word for it, they will pay you a
visit.” When the Sans Pareil had got enough of the battle, and was
prepared to surrender; her captain sent down to request Trowbridge to
come on deck and do him the honor of striking the colors. This he very
properly declined to do.

Anecdotes of the action are too numerous for all to find a place
here. But we may mention that on board the captured French ships the
cartridges were found to be mostly made of the fine painted vellum
on which church music was painted, and of the titles and _preuves de
noblesse_ of the principal French families, many hundred years old, and
illuminated, in many instances, with the genealogical tree. There was a
decree of the French Convention, applying the archives of the nobility
to that particular purpose. The great convoy of ships from the West
Indies and America, consisting of more than two hundred sail of ships,
of immense value, and of so much importance to the French government
that they risked the loss of their great Brest fleet for its safety,
arrived safely in port a few days after the battle of the first of
June.

BATTLE OF CAPE ST. VINCENT. A. D. 1797.

Although Rodney had fought a celebrated action off Cape St. Vincent a
few years before, yet the one which occurred in 1797 so far eclipsed it
that Rodney’s action is scarcely ever thought of.

St. Vincent is the name of the most southwestern point of Portugal, in
the old Kingdom of Algarve.

Admiral Sir John Jervis, with an English fleet under his command, left
the Tagus on the 18th of January, 1797, with eleven ships-of-the-line.
Before crossing the bar of the Tagus the St. George, a three-decker,
got on shore, and, being got off with difficulty, was found to be so
much injured as to render it necessary to send her back to Lisbon.
So with ten sail-of-the-line Sir John put to sea, having for his
first object to escort some Brazil merchantmen and their Portuguese
convoy to a safe latitude; thence he intended to proceed off Cape St.
Vincent, where he had appointed a rendezvous for the St. George to join
him. He also hoped to be there joined by long and anxiously expected
reinforcements from England.

His fleet consisted of the Victory, of 100 guns, his flag-ship; the
Britannia, 100, Vice Admiral Thompson; the Barfleur and Blenheim, 98s;
and the Captain, Culloden, Egmont, Excellent and Goliath, 74s, and the
Diadem, 64.

On the 6th of February Sir John had parted from the Portuguese ships,
and was upon his return to his station off Cape St. Vincent, where
five sail-of-the-line, sent from the Channel fleet to reinforce him,
effected their junction. These were the Prince George, 98, Vice Admiral
Parker; the Namur, 90; and the Colossus, Irresistible, and Orion, 74s.
It so happened that the accession of force did no more than make up
that which the Admiral had with him when he sent home for an addition
to his force. A sixth serious accident soon deprived him of the use of
another ship; for, early on the morning of February 12th, while yet
quite dark, as the ships were tacking in succession, the Colossus,
keeping her wind a little too long, compelled the Culloden to bear up,
to clear her. The former ship then suddenly bore up also, and the two
ran foul of each other. The Colossus escaped almost without injury,
but the Culloden received damages which would have sent most ships
home to a dockyard. She was, however, commanded by the gallant Captain
Trowbridge, and he managed, after a time, to repair damages at sea, and
to be ready for action again.

Sir John Jervis, with his fifteen ships, persevered in working up to
his station, against a strong southeast wind, not doubting that he
should there gain a sight, or at least have tidings, of the Spanish
fleet, of which he was in quest, which could not be less than nineteen,
and might be thirty sail-of-the-line.

Whatever the force might be, it was to be broken up, if possible, and a
heavy blow struck against the Spanish navy.

On the morning of February 13th the English frigate Minerve, bearing
the flag of Horatio Nelson, then a Commodore, came into the fleet,
with the intelligence that on the 11th, soon after quitting Gibraltar,
he had been chased by two Spanish line-of-battle-ships, and that,
afterwards, when in the mouth of the Straits, he got sight of the
Spanish fleet of whose strength and probable intentions Commodore
Nelson communicated some important information. In the course of
the same evening the Niger frigate joined the fleet, with the same
information; she having kept the Spaniards in sight for several days.
Captain Foote, of the Niger, informed the Admiral that their fleet
could not be more than fifteen miles off.

It was then near sunset. Signal was made for the British fleet to
prepare for battle, and to keep close order for the night, during which
the signal guns of the Spaniards could be distinctly heard.

While the English are thus keeping a bright lookout for them, let us
take a glance at the Spanish fleet, soon to be engaged in a momentous
battle.

The grand fleet of Spain, under the command of Don Josef de Cordova,
in the Santissima Trinidada, a huge ship of 130 guns, had sailed
from Carthagena on the first of the month. He had, besides his
flag-ship, six of 112 guns, two of 80, and eighteen of 74 guns; in all
twenty-seven sail-of-the-line, with ten frigates, and two or three
brigs.

Some gun-boats, and about seventy transports, having on board two
battalions of guards and a Swiss regiment, and a great quantity of
military stores and ammunition, accompanied the fleet, all bound to the
camp of St. Roche.

The Spanish fleet passed Gibraltar at daylight of the 5th, and some of
them escorted the transports to Algesiras, where the troops and stores
were disembarked. It was these ships, upon their return to the main
fleet, which had seen and chased Nelson.

The report was that this fleet was to proceed to Brest, then to join
the French fleet, which was in turn to be joined by the Dutch fleet;
and that with the whole united, England was to be invaded. Be that
as it may, the destination of the Spanish Admiral was, in the first
instance, Cadiz. But the strong easterly gale that had given him a
quick passage through the Straits soon blew in his teeth and drove
his ships considerably to the westward of their port. On the night of
the 13th, the wind still adverse, the lookout frigates of the Spanish
fleet, which now consisted of twenty-five sail-of-the-line and eleven
frigates, got sight of several of the British ships; but the latter,
being taken by them for part of a convoy, excited little attention.

The Spaniards were busy in taking advantage of a favorable change of
wind which just then occurred, and were crowding sail to make the land,
without much regard to order.

The morning of the 14th of February, a disastrous day long to be
remembered by the Spaniards, broke dark and hazy. The two fleets were
in full sight of each other. The British were formed in two compact
divisions, on the starboard tack, with the wind at west by south. Cape
St. Vincent then bore east by north, distant about twenty-five miles.

At about half-past six the Culloden, 74, made signal for five sail,
S. W. by S. The frigates immediately confirmed the same, adding that
the strangers were by the wind, on the starboard tack. A sloop-of-war
was at once sent to reconnoitre, and the English Admiral made signal
to his fleet to form in close order and prepare for battle. Soon after
three ships-of-the-line were sent to chase to the S. W., and, upon the
sloop signaling that she saw eight sail in that direction, three more
line-of-battle ships were sent.

The Spanish reconnoitring frigates soon made out and recognized these
detached English ships, and it was not until then that the Spaniards
recovered from their delusion that the ships they had seen were part of
a convoy.

Then they fell into another. An American ship, which had passed through
the British fleet some days before, while the Culloden was away in
chase, had afterwards been spoken by the Spanish Admiral, and informed
him that Sir John Jervis had but nine sail-of-the-line.

The partial view of the British fleet now obtained through the fog and
haze tended to confirm this statement, and the Spanish were in high
glee at the idea that they should soon make a triumphant entry into
Cadiz, with some English ships as prizes; for their force was too great
for nine ships to resist, however well handled and bravely fought.

About 10 A.M. the English frigate Minerve made signal for twenty sail
in the southwest, and presently for eight more.

By this time the fog had cleared away, and left the two fleets to count
their enemy’s numbers.

The Spanish were, of course, greatly surprised at seeing fifteen
instead of nine sail-of-the-line; and these fifteen, found in two close
lines, were steadily advancing to cut off those of their ships that,
owing either to mismanagement or to a blind confidence in numerical
strength, had been allowed to separate from their main body. Their main
body, formed in a sort of a square, were running before the wind, under
all sail, while their leewardmost ships, with their starboard tacks on
board, were striving hard to effect a junction with the former, in time
to frustrate, if possible, the evident design of the British Admiral.

As, besides the object of cutting off the six detached sail-of-the-line,
it was now equally important to be ready to receive the nineteen sail
bearing down from to windward, the British Admiral, soon after eleven
A.M., ordered his fleet to form in line-of-battle, ahead and astern, as
was most convenient, and to steer south-southwest.

The advanced position of the Culloden in the morning’s chase conferred
upon her the honor of being the leading ship in the line, which, when
all the ships had fallen into their stations, and were close hauled on
the starboard tack, was closed by the Excellent.

Thus arranged the fifteen British ships steered direct for the opening,
still wide, but gradually narrowing, between the two divisions of the
Spanish fleet.

About this time the advanced ships of the Spanish weather division
began wearing and trimming on the port tack.

At 11.30 A.M., the Culloden, coming abreast of the leewardmost of these
ships, opened fire upon them, as they passed her starboard broadside.
She then stood on, followed by the Blenheim, which ship also gave and
received a distant fire.

As soon as she reached the wake of the enemy’s line the Culloden tacked
again and stood towards it.

The three rearmost Spanish ships, the Conde de Regia, 112; Principe
d’Asturias, 112; and Oriente, 74, being some way astern of their
companions, and therefore in danger of being cut off by the leading
British ships, bore up together, athwart the hawse of the Prince
George, 98, (Vice-Admiral Parker’s flag-ship). The latter, being rather
too far from her leader, had left a sufficient opening for the purpose.

The three Spaniards then hauled up on the starboard tack, and joined
four others that lay a little to windward of the remaining three of
their lee division.

Upon the Prince George and Blenheim tacking, half an hour after noon,
the advanced portion of the Spanish lee division put about also, and
thus both divisions of the Spanish fleet were brought on the port tack.
The English ships astern of the Prince George, as they increased their
distance from the van, lessened it from the rear division, several
of the ships of which opened, and received in return, a sharp fire,
evidently to the disadvantage of the Spanish, as they all, but one,
wore round on the other tack.

The Egmont, 74, at this time received damaging shots through both
main and mizzen-masts; while the Colossus, another English 74,
lost important spars, which compelled her to wear out of line, and
afforded an opportunity to a Spanish three-decker, which was to
windward and astern of the others, to bear up, with the intention of
raking the crippled English ship. The Orion, 74, seeing this, backed
her main-top-sail, and lay to, to cover the Colossus; whereupon the
three-decker wore, and stood away to the southward, after her friends.

The Spanish ship which had not accompanied their lee division in
its retreat was the Oriente. She hauled up, on the port tack, and
stretching along, under the lee of the remainder of the British line,
from which she was partly concealed by the smoke, succeeded in running
the gauntlet, and in regaining her own line, to windward.

This was the most gallant and seamanlike act performed by any Spanish
ship on that day. About 1 P. M., as the rearmost ship of that part of
the British line which was still upon the starboard tack had advanced
so far ahead as to leave an open sea to leeward of the Spanish
weather division, then passing in the contrary direction, the ships
of the latter, as the last effort to join their lee division, bore up
together. Scarcely was the movement made ere it caught the attention
of one who was as quick in seeing the consequences of its success as
he was ready in devising the means for its failure. Nelson, then a
Commodore, directed Captain Miller to wear the Captain, 74, on which
ship he bore his pennant, and in which he achieved much of his renown.

The Captain, a smart working ship, was soon round, and, passing between
the Diadem and the Excellent, ran athwart the bows of the Spanish
ships, as far as the ninth from the rear, which was the huge Santissima
Trinidada, of 130 guns, a four-decker. The Captain instantly opened
fire upon the large ship and those about her, with the rearmost of
which the Culloden, which had recommenced firing a few minutes before,
was warmly engaged. Soon the Spanish Admiral and the ships about him,
not liking to present their bows, even to so insignificant a force,
hauled nearly to the wind, and soon opened a very heavy fire upon the
Captain and Culloden. By 2 P. M. the latter had stretched so far ahead
as to cover and to afford a few minutes respite to the Captain. Of this
Nelson took advantage, replenishing her racks with shot, and splicing
and repairing running rigging. The Captain then renewed the battle with
great animation.

At about half-past two the Blenheim, 98, came crowding up, and, passing
to windward of the Captain, afforded her a second respite, which was
taken advantage of as before.

The two more immediate opponents of the Captain and Culloden had been
the San Ysidro, 74, and the Salvador del Mundo, 112; these, being
already with some of their topmasts gone, and otherwise in a crippled
state, the Blenheim, by a few heavy broadsides, sent staggering astern,
to be cannonaded afresh by the Prince George and other advancing ships.

The Excellent, 74 (Captain Collingwood, afterwards Lord Collingwood),
was now coming up. This ship had been ordered by the Admiral to quit
her station in the line and lead the weather division, consisting of
the Victory, 100; Barfleur, 98; Namur, 90; Egmont, 74; Goliath, 74, and
Britannia, 100. The latter was a dull ship, and a long distance off,
though under all sail.

This weather division was intended to pass to windward of the Spanish
line.

About half-past two, the Excellent, having by a press of sail arrived
abreast of the Salvador del Mundo’s weather quarter, brought to, and
engaged her warmly, until the latter, ceasing to fire in return, and as
it appeared, striking her colors, the Excellent stood on to the next
ship, the San Ysidro, whose three top-masts had already been shot away.
This ship she closely engaged on the lee side, for some time, when the
San Ysidro, after a gallant defence, in his crippled state, hauled down
the Spanish, and hoisted the British flag.

The Excellent then made sail ahead, and soon came into close action
with the San Nicolas, 86, whose foremast was gone, and who, as well as
the ship abreast and rather ahead of her, to windward, the San Josef,
112, had been occasionally firing at the Captain, which we have seen so
busily engaged with others.

The Excellent, passing within a few feet of the San Nicolas’ starboard
side, poured in a destructive fire, and then stood on. The San Nicolas,
in luffing up to avoid Collingwood’s broadside, ran foul of the San
Josef, whose mizzen-mast was already shot away, and which had received
very considerable other damage from the fire of four English ships.

The Captain, as soon as the Excellent was sufficiently ahead of her to
be clear, luffed up as close to the wind as her shattered condition
would admit, when her fore-topmast, which had been shot through, fell
over the side. In this unmanageable state, with her wheel shot away,
and all her sails, shrouds and running rigging more or less cut,
with the Blenheim far ahead, and the Culloden crippled, astern, no
alternative remained but to board the San Nicolas. Previous to doing
this the Captain reopened her fire within less than twenty yards, and
the San Nicolas returned it, with great spirit, for some time. The
Captain then put her helm a starboard, and encountered the two Spanish
ships drifting down upon her. As the Captain came to, she hooked, with
her port cat-head, the San Nicolas’ starboard gallery, and with her
sprit-sail yard, the San Nicolas’ mizzen-rigging. What immediately
ensued is in Nelson’s own language.

There was a detachment of the 69th Regiment on board, and Nelson says:--

“The soldiers of the 69th, with an alacrity which will ever do them
credit, and Lieutenant Pearson, of that regiment, were almost the
foremost on this service. The first man who jumped into the enemy’s
mizzen-chains was Captain Berry, late my first lieutenant; (Captain
Miller was in the very act of going, also, but I directed him to
remain;) he was supported from our sprit-sail yard, which hooked in
their mizzen-rigging.

“A soldier of the 69th Regiment, having broke the upper quarter gallery
window, I jumped in myself, and was followed by others, as fast as
possible. I found the cabin doors fastened; and some Spanish officers
fired their pistols; but, having broke open the doors, the soldiers
fired, and the Spanish Brigadier (Commodore with a distinguishing
pennant) fell, as he was retreating to the quarter-deck. I pushed
immediately onward for the quarter-deck, where I found Captain Berry in
possession of the poop, and the Spanish ensign hauling down. I passed,
with my people and Lieutenant Pearson, on the larboard gangway, to
the forecastle, when I met three or four Spanish officers, prisoners
to my seamen; they delivered me their swords. A fire of pistols or
muskets opening from the stern-gallery of the San Josef, I directed the
soldiers to fire into her stern: and calling Captain Miller, ordered
him to send more men into the San Nicolas; and directed my people to
board the first-rate, which was done in an instant, Captain Berry
assisting me into the main-chains.

“At this moment a Spanish officer looked over the quarter-deck rail and
said they surrendered. From this most welcome intelligence it was not
long before I was on the quarter-deck, when the Spanish Captain, with
a bow, presented me his sword, and said the Admiral was dying of his
wounds.

“I asked him, on his honor, if the ship was surrendered. He declared
she was; on which I gave him my hand, and desired him to call on his
officers and ship’s company, and tell them of it; which he did, and,
on the quarter-deck of a Spanish first-rate, extravagant as the story
may seem, did I receive the swords of vanquished Spaniards; which, as I
received, I gave to Wm. Fearney, one of my bargemen, who put them, with
the greatest _sang-froid_, under his arm. I was surrounded by Captain
Berry, Lieutenant Pearson, of the 69th Regiment, John Sykes, John
Thompson, Francis Cooke, all old Agamemnons, and several other brave
men, seamen and soldiers. Thus fell these ships.”

The foregoing is part of a report signed by “Horatio Nelson,” “Ralph
Willett Miller,” and “T. Berry.”

The loss of the Captain in boarding the San Nicolas did not exceed
seven killed and ten wounded. That of the San Nicolas was about
twenty. But the taking of the first-rate San Josef did not cost the
Captain a man, nor does it appear that the prize herself lost above
one or two men, in the trifling exchange of small-arm shot which had
preceded her surrender.

The previous loss of the San Josef had, however, been severe,
principally from the fire of the St. George.

During this brilliant service of the Captain she had been so disabled
that Commodore Nelson returned to the Minerve, and at five o’clock the
same day shifted his broad pennant to the Irresistible.

But other ships besides those already mentioned did good work.

The Victory, next astern of the Excellent, came up in time to throw a
most destructive fire into the Salvador del Mundo, whose colors had
been once lowered but were then again flying. The Barfleur, close
astern of the Victory, seconded the blow. Having already lost her
fore and main-top-masts, and being seriously shattered in the hull;
observing, also, that her two antagonists were preparing to round upon
her bow, and that a third three-decker, the Namur, was not far off, to
windward, the Salvador del Mundo hauled down her colors.

The Diadem and Irresistible had previously been ordered to suspend
their fire at the Salvador del Mundo, until the Victory and her
second passed clear, and they were now directed, by signal, to take
possession of the Spanish ship. Soon after this the Excellent got close
under the lee of the Santa Trinidada, which vessel she engaged for
nearly an hour, assisted by the Orion, Irresistible, and particularly
the Blenheim. At last the Spanish four-decker, having her fore and
mizzen-masts shot away, and having suffered immense damage in hull,
rigging and sails, hauled down her colors, after a splendid resistance
to odds.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF CAPE ST. VINCENT, 1797.]

Just then two of the Spanish van ships, having wore, were standing to
the support of the Santa Trinidada. Two fresh ships were coming down
from the southwest; and the lee Spanish division, of nine sail, well
formed, and including among them the Conde de Regla, and the Principe
d’Asturias, three-deckers, were approaching from the southeast. All
these ships, closing round their sorely harassed comrade, saved him
from further molestation.

By five o’clock the victory was won. At this time all firing ceased,
and at that season of the year night was at hand. The British Admiral
made the signal for his fleet to bring to, on the starboard tack. This
he did, chiefly to cover the prizes and his own disabled ships from
the nine Spanish ships of the lee division, which, having made a good
stretch to windward, on the starboard tack, were now rapidly coming up
on the opposite one.

The determined front of the British changed their purpose, and after
firing a few ineffectual broadsides, they stood on to the assistance of
their chief.

Both fleets lay to during the night, to repair damages, and day-break
discovered them on opposite tacks, each in line-of-battle ahead.

The Spanish had the weather gage, and still possessed eighteen or
twenty effective sail-of-the-line, but they made no attempt to renew
the action. Probably some of their ships were not in condition to
fight. The great Santa Trinidada was nearly out of sight to leeward,
in tow of a frigate. As it was necessary to keep the British fleet
together, Sir John Jervis sent no vessels in chase of her.

The whole Spanish line was standing to the northward, while the
British fleet, which--including the Colossus and Culloden, neither of
which was fit to take a place in the line--could muster but fourteen
ships-of-the-line, then took their four prizes and the Captain in tow,
and very slowly made their way southward.

The damage sustained from the contest by the British ships was not so
great as might have been expected, from the severity of the contest.
The only ship of theirs dismasted was the Captain, which ship also
suffered much in the hull.

The Colossus and Culloden were both very much cut up, and the latter
had suffered especially in the hull, and was very leaky. She had only
one carronade dismounted, however, and two first and two second deck
guns.

The loss of life among the British was comparatively small. Except in
the cases of the Colossus and Egmont, those ships which suffered most
in hull and rigging had most killed and wounded. The total for the
fleet was 73 killed and 227 wounded. Of course, these were only the
badly wounded; for it was not the custom, in those days, to report the
slightly wounded. It is, therefore, fair to consider the total as about
400; an amazingly small number, considering the nature of the action.

According to the Spanish accounts, ten of their ships, besides those
crippled, suffered materially, but not more than half of them showed
any signs of being at all crippled. The Santa Trinidada, Soberano,
Principe d’Asturias and Conde de Regla were very much damaged.

The damages of the prizes are better known. All four ships had lost
masts, and all were so hulled as to be very leaky. The San Nicolas was
badly on fire, but her captors extinguished it. Their loss in killed
and wounded amounted to about 1000.

The detached and confused state of the Spanish fleet at the beginning
of the battle, and the consequent partial and irregular manner in
which their ships came into action, would render any statement of
comparative force, by comparing the totals on each side, very unfair.

It would be correct to say that the British line consisted of fifteen
ships-of-the-line, and the Spanish line (if it could be called so) of
twenty-five, and afterwards of twenty-seven, ships-of-the-line.

The Santissima Trinidada was a monster in size. She was built in
Havana, in 1769, as a 112-gun ship, except that she had greater beam
than was usual with that class. Some time about 1796 her quarter-deck
and forecastle were formed into a whole deck, barricades built
along her gangways, with ports in them, and she was made into a
flush four-decker, but was not really much superior in force to the
three-decked 112s.

The most striking feature in this victory is the boldness of the
attack. Another commander might have paused before running into the
midst of twenty-five sail with fifteen. If he had paused to weigh the
chances, the separated ships would have closed, and the Spanish line
then have been too compact to be attacked with hopes of success.

Sir John Jervis, relying upon the character of his force, and viewing
with a general’s eye the loose and disordered state of his enemy’s
line, resolved to profit by it, attacked promptly, and conquered. It
cannot be said that he broke the Spanish line, for there was no line to
be broken. He simply chose the proper moment for advance, had a leader
who never flinched or fell back, and he had all about him those who
were emulous to follow so bright an example.

On the other hand, the bold front he put on was calculated to sink
the hearts of those among the Spanish fleet who had little experience
of naval warfare. The Spanish fleet was not only in confusion at the
outset, but continued to be so; and some of their ships undoubtedly
fired into their comrades, while they were so huddled together that if
a shot missed one it was sure to strike another of them.

Then the British were better sailors, and repaired damages more
quickly; and to many of them the battle was more like a rattling game
than a grim matter of life and death and national renown.

It is reported that the Captain actually expended all her shot in this
action, and when grape was needed for her 32-lb carronades, used 7-lb
shot as a substitute.

This at a short distance must have caused great execution.

When the Spanish Admiral at last formed his scattered divisions into
line, he found the British in equal, if not better, alignment; and each
side then drew off, the one to lament, the other to exult, over the
events of the day.

The Spanish were never accused of a lack of courage, either by sea or
on land, and their discomfiture appears to have been caused principally
by the worthlessness of the crews which manned their ships. These
were composed of pressed landsmen, and soldiers of new levies, with a
very few seamen in each ship. It has been reported that these “poor
panic-stricken wretches,” when called upon to go aloft, to repair
the damaged rigging, fell upon their knees, and cried out that they
preferred being sacrificed on the spot to performing a duty where death
seemed inevitable from more than one cause. The numerical superiority
of their guns seemed little in their favor, for some of the San Josef’s
were found with their tompions in, on the side which had been engaged,
after the battle was over. Indeed, the numbers on board some of the
Spanish ships seem to have been rather a detriment to them.

A rather prejudiced writer says that if eight of their twenty-five
ships had been left at Carthagena, and had the five or six hundred
seamen they probably contained been substituted for twice that number
of raw hands, taken from the remaining seventeen ships, the latter
would probably have made a better stand; and the victory, if achieved
at all, have been at the expense of a much greater number of lives in
the British fleet. Whatever the fault of the crews, the officers fought
well. “Upon the whole, the victory off Cape St. Vincent, although from
its consequences pre-eminently great, from its results, dispassionately
considered, cannot be pronounced in an equal degree glorious.”

At about 3 P.M. of the 16th the British fleet and the prizes anchored
in Lagos Bay. Here the Spanish prisoners, numbering about 3000 men,
were landed; and, a receipt being given by the proper authority, were
allowed to remain.

On the 23d, after riding out a gale of wind with much difficulty, it
blowing dead on shore, Sir John Jervis sailed, and in five days the
whole were in safety in Lisbon. It was remarked that the prizes, under
jury-masts, beat all the English ships in working into the Tagus.

Great congratulations and celebrations took place at Lisbon, for the
Portuguese had every reason to rejoice at this victory, while in
England the news was met with immense enthusiasm. Sir John Jervis
was created a peer of Great Britain, by the title of Baron Jervis of
Meaford, and Earl of St. Vincent; with a pension of £3000 per annum.
Vice-Admiral Thompson and Admiral Parker were created Baronets, and
Vice-Admiral the Hon. William Waldegrave was appointed to a lucrative
post abroad.

Commodore Nelson, who had so often proved in his own person that the
danger of a bold enterprise required only to be met to be overcome, was
not mentioned in Sir John Jervis’ despatches, but received the insignia
of the Bath, and the freedom of the City of London.

Thanks of Parliament were voted to the fleet, and gold medals were
given to all the flag-officers and captains, as on similar occasions.
The four Spanish prizes were commissioned, and retained in service on
the Lisbon station.

The gale which had assailed the British fleet in Lagos Bay caught the
remainder of Admiral Cordova’s fleet at sea. It dispersed his ships,
and prevented them from reaching Cadiz until March. Among them was the
huge Santissima Trinidada, which, being so much injured by shot, was
least able to stand bad weather.

On the morning of the 28th of February, as she was striving to regain
the coast, the English frigate Terpsichore appeared in sight, to the
westward. Her captain knew of the battle, and divined, at once, that
the four-decker must be the Sta. Trinidada. He instantly cleared for
action, and bore down upon her, and began engaging, so manœuvring that
he kept clear of her broadside. The great ship had, therefore, only
her chasers with which to chastise the temerity of her pigmy foe. The
frigate kept her company until March 2d, doing her considerable damage,
and receiving some in return.

On that date twelve sail of Spanish men-of-war appeared, and the
Terpsichore hauled up for the Mediterranean.

Several ships from England joined the fleet, and the Admiral cruised
off Cadiz, with twenty-one sail-of-the-line, blockading twenty-six
Spanish ships, and the latter did not again appear at sea that year.

Admiral Cordova, and his two divisional flag-officers, Montlez and
Merino, together with eleven captains, were brought before a council of
war, to answer for their conduct in the battle. Nothing appears to have
come of it, for the personal gallantry of the officers was beyond all
dispute.

One fact is certain, that a Spanish three-decker, bearing a
Vice-Admiral’s flag, did her best to cut through the line, between the
Victory and Egmont.

In cases of this kind the officers are too frequently made the
scapegoats of a blundering Administration.

ENGLISH FLEET IN CANARY ISLANDS. A. D. 1797.

In addition to the blockade and bombardment of Cadiz, with which Lord
St. Vincent was carrying on an active warfare against the Spaniards, he
detached two expeditions against Santa Cruz, in the Canary Islands, in
the more important of which Rear-Admiral Nelson was not only repulsed,
but lost his arm, a model of which is still among the trophies and
_ex-votos_ to be seen in the Cathedral of that place.

On May 28th, 1797, Captain Hallowell, of the Royal Navy, in command of
the Lively frigate, with the Minerve frigate in company, stood into the
bay of Santa Cruz, Teneriffe, and discovered at anchor in the road an
armed brig, which, as the frigate approached, hoisted French colors.

The two commanders deeming it practicable to cut her out, the boats
of the frigates were next day manned, and placed under the orders
of Lieut. Thos. Masterman Hardy (who afterwards much distinguished
himself, and became an Admiral). At about half-past two in the
afternoon, Hardy, with three other naval lieutenants, and one of the
Lieutenants of Marines, in the boats of the Lively, and two lieutenants
of the Minerve, with her boats, and their respective crews, made a very
resolute attack upon the brig, as she lay at anchor, and, in the face
of a smart fire of musketry, boarded, and almost immediately carried
her.

This alarmed the town, and a heavy fire of musketry and artillery was
opened upon the brig, not only from every battery, but from a large
ship which lay in the road.

The lightness of the wind at the time retarded the weighing of the
brig’s anchor, and then made it necessary for the boats to take the
brig in tow. During nearly an hour an unremitting fire was kept up from
the shore and ship. At length, at a little before four o’clock, they
succeeded in getting the vessel out of gun-shot. She was the French
national brig, Mutine, mounting fourteen guns, twelve of them long
6-pounders, and the remaining two brass 36-pounder carronades.

She had on board 113 men, the rest of her ship’s company, with her
captain, being on shore at the time of the capture.

Hardy, in effecting this handsome capture, did not lose a man, but had
fifteen wounded.

The Mutine was a remarkably fine brig, and was put in commission by
Earl St. Vincent; and the command of her given to the officer in
command of the party that cut her out. Lord St. Vincent set an example
which was not followed by all other commanders in-chief, in those
stirring times. “He appointed, and gave out that he would always
appoint, to the command of any of the enemy’s armed vessels the senior
lieutenant of the party that captured her.” This “win her wear her”
plan was a better way to multiply Nelsons, than by filling up the
vacancies with the oftener high-born than deserving gentlemen sent out
by the Admiralty.”

So ended the first small and successful expedition. Let us now look at
the second. This was of a much more serious character.

The rumored arrival at Santa Cruz, on her way to Cadiz, of a
richly-freighted Manilla ship, the Principe d’Asturias, and the
represented vulnerability of the town to a well conducted sea attack,
induced Earl St. Vincent to attempt another enterprise.

Accordingly, on the 15th of July, 1797, his lordship detached upon that
service a squadron of three sail-of-the-line, the Theseus, Culloden,
and Zealous, 74s; the Seahorse, Emerald, and Terpsichore, frigates, the
Fox, 10-gun cutter, and a mortar boat. The whole were under the orders
of Rear-admiral Nelson, in the Theseus.

In about five days the squadron arrived off the island. Every
arrangement that sound judgment could devise having been completed, two
hundred seamen and marines from each of the line-of-battle ships, and
one hundred from each of the three frigates, exclusive of commissioned
officers and servants, and a small detachment of Royal artillery, the
whole together amounting to about 1050 men, were placed under the
command of Captain Trowbridge, of the Culloden. Each captain, under his
direction, commanded the detachment of seamen from his own ship; and
Captain Thomas Oldfield, of the marines, as senior marine officer, the
entire detachment from that corps.

On the night of the 20th of July the three frigates, accompanied by the
cutter and mortar-boat, and most of the boats of the squadron, stood in
close to the land, to debark the shore party.

A strong gale in the offing, and a strong current against them,
near the shore, prevented them from reaching the intended point of
debarkation. At about half-past three on the morning of the 22d the
squadron bore up for Santa Cruz, and soon after daylight was joined by
the frigates and small craft. The unavoidable appearance of the latter
off the coast gave the islanders the very warning it was so desirable,
for the success of the expedition, they should not have. A consultation
of the principal officers of the squadron now took place, and decided
that an attack should be made on the heights immediately over the
fort at the northeast part of the bay; and then, from that commanding
position, to storm and carry the fort itself. At nine o’clock on the
night of the 22d the frigates anchored inshore, off the east end of
the town, and landed their men; but the latter finding the heights too
strongly guarded to be attempted, re-embarked in the course of the
night, without loss. The three line-of-battle ships had meanwhile kept
under way, to batter the fort, by way of diversion; but, owing to calms
and contrary currents, were unable to approach nearer than three miles.

Nelson, not being one to abandon an enterprise until after a stout
struggle to accomplish it, resolved to give his seasoned men a chance
at the Santa Cruz garrison as soon as possible. On the 24th the 50-gun
ship Leander joined the squadron, having been sent to reinforce it, by
Lord St. Vincent. Her captain had considerable experience as a cruiser
in those parts, and his local knowledge was therefore valuable; while
the additional force was very acceptable and added to the hopes of the
attacking party.

On the afternoon of the 24th, at five o’clock, everything being in
readiness, and secrecy no longer possible, the whole squadron anchored
to the northeastward of the town: the line-of-battle ships about six
miles off, and the frigates much nearer. At eleven o’clock at night,
about 700 seamen and marines embarked in the boats of the squadron, 180
more in the Fox cutter, and about 75 on board a large boat that had
just been captured; numbering altogether, with the small detachment of
Royal artillery, about eleven hundred men. The different detachments
of seamen, under the immediate command of their respective captains,
the marines under Captain Oldfield, the artillery under Lieut. Baynes,
and the whole force under command of the Rear-Admiral, in person, then
pushed off for the shore.

Every precaution had been taken to keep the boats together, in order
that the attack might be simultaneous; but the rough state of the
weather, and the extreme darkness of the night, rendered it almost
impossible for them to keep each other within sight or hearing. At
about half-past one in the morning, the Fox cutter, with the Admiral’s
boat, those of Captains Fremantle and Bowen, and one or two others,
reached, undiscovered, within half gunshot of the head of the Mole,
when, suddenly, the alarm bells on shore began to ring, and a fire was
opened by many pieces of artillery and by infantry stationed along the
shore.

Two shots raked the Fox, and another struck her between wind and water;
so that she sank instantly. Of those on board no less than ninety-seven
were lost; and among them her commander, Lieut. Gibson.

Another shot struck Rear-Admiral Nelson on the elbow, just as he was
drawing his sword and stepping out of his boat. The wound completely
disabled him, and he was carried back to his ship at once. Another shot
sank the boat in which Captain Bowen was about approaching the Mole,
and seven or eight seamen of her crew perished.

In spite of this very spirited and determined opposition, the British
effected a landing, and carried the Mole, although it was defended by
about three hundred men and six 24-pounders. Having spiked these guns,
the English were about to advance, when a heavy fire of musketry and
grape-shot from the citadel and from the houses at the Mole head began
to mow them down by scores. Captain Bowen, of the Terpsichore, and his
first lieutenant were almost immediately killed, and the whole party
which landed then were either killed or wounded.

Meanwhile, Captain Trowbridge, of the Culloden, being unable to hit the
Mole, the spot appointed for landing, pushed on shore under a battery
close to the battery to the southward of the citadel.

Captain Waller, of the Emerald, and a few boats with him, landed at
the same time, but the surf was so high that many of the boats put
back; and all that did not were filled with water, which spoiled the
ammunition in the men’s pouches.

Captain Trowbridge advanced as soon as he had collected a few men,
accompanied by Captain Waller. They reached the great square of the
town, the appointed rendezvous, in hopes of there meeting the Admiral
and the rest of the landing party; but we have seen already how these
were disposed of.

Captain Trowbridge now sent a sergeant, accompanied by two citizens of
the place, to summon the citadel to surrender. No answer was returned,
and the sergeant is supposed to have been killed on the way. As the
scaling ladders which had been brought were lost in the surf, there
was no way of storming the citadel, and after waiting there an hour,
Trowbridge went to join Captains Hood and Miller, who, with a small
body of men, had landed to the southwest. At daybreak it was found that
Trowbridge was in command of about three hundred and forty survivors,
consisting of marines, pikemen, and seamen with small arms. Having
procured a small quantity of ammunition from some Spanish prisoners
whom they had taken, Trowbridge resolved to try what could be done
with the citadel without ladders, and then found that the streets
were commanded by field-pieces, while an overwhelming force was
approaching them by every avenue. The boats being all stove, there
was no possibility of getting any reinforcements; they were short of
ammunition, and their provisions had been lost in the boats.

Trowbridge now sent Captain Hood, with a flag of truce, to the
Governor, expressing a determination to burn the town if the Spanish
forces advanced, and proposing terms of capitulation, to the following
effect: that the British should be allowed to re-embark, with their
arms, taking their own boats, if saved, and if not, to be provided with
others. And Captain Trowbridge engaged, in case of compliance, that the
ships then before the town should not molest it, nor attack any one of
the Canary Islands.

The Governor, Don Juan Antonio Guttierez, received Captain Hood and his
message, being considerably astonished at receiving such a proposal
from men whom he considered already in his power. Nevertheless, he
accorded the terms, and Trowbridge marched to the Mole head, where he
and his officers and men embarked, in boats furnished by the Spaniards.

The Governor supplied each of the retreating invaders with a ration
of bread and wine, and directed that the British wounded should be
received into the hospital. He, moreover, sent word to Admiral Nelson
that he was at liberty to send on shore for, and purchase, fresh
provisions.

This was a most disastrous defeat for Nelson, independent of the
melancholy loss of life, which was almost as great as in the battle off
Cape St. Vincent.

BATTLE OF CAMPERDOWN. 11TH OCTOBER, A. D. 1797.

Lord Viscount Duncan, who won the decisive naval battle of Camperdown,
under rather extraordinary conditions, was born, as simple Adam Duncan,
in Dundee, Scotland, in 1731; so that he was a veteran, as well in
years as in service, when he gained the victory for which he will
always be remembered.

As a Lieutenant he had served in the expedition to America, in “the
French war;” being in the fleet which brought Braddock over to meet
well earned defeat, as well as death. He was afterwards distinguished
in the attack upon Belleisle, and in the capture of Havana. In the war
of 1778 he was actively employed under Rodney. At the first battle
of St. Vincent he was in command of a ship; the first to engage and
capture a 70-gun ship.

After participating in many other actions of importance he was made
a Rear-Admiral in 1759, a Vice-Admiral in 1793, the rank he held at
Camperdown, and finally became full Admiral in 1799.

He was a man of great and unaffected piety, and excited the wonder
and admiration of the Dutch Admiral, when a prisoner on board his
flag-ship, after Camperdown, by summoning his ship’s company, and then
going down on his knees and thanking God for the mercy vouchsafed them.

Admiral Duncan had, in 1797, the command of the North Sea English
fleet. But that fleet had been so thinned by the secession of the
disaffected ships which took part in the great mutiny of the English
fleet, in that year--called the “Mutiny of the Nore,” and the “Mutiny
at Spithead”--that, towards the end of May, he found himself at sea
with only his own ship (the Venerable, 74) and the Adamant, 50.

It is necessary here to touch upon the causes which gave rise to a
mutiny which has forever remained a disgrace to the Lords of the
British Admiralty, and to the officers of the fleet serving under them
at that time and for a long time before.

Avoiding any speculations or reflections, we will simply quote from a
well known writer on naval affairs, Admiral Ekins, of the British Navy,
who, quoting another writer in respect to the state of the British Navy
about that time says, “in 1796 and the following years, after the naval
force became so much expanded, the seamen were exceedingly deteriorated
by the introduction of a large mass of Irish rebels, and the sweepings
of all the gaols in England, on the home station; and by as large an
introduction of foreigners on the stations abroad.”

This writer seems to intend to say, as he goes on, that the Irish, many
of whom had filled offices of some kind at home, had, by plausible
ways, acted with great influence on the minds of the British seamen
whom they found on board their ships, and who were certainly suffering,
at the time, from very oppressive regulations and fraudulent practices.

[Illustration: ENGLISH FLEET, OFF TENERIFFE.]

“These men entirely overturned the whole discipline and constitutional
temperament of the navy. An honest zeal was changed for gloomy
discontent: grievances were magnified into oppressions, and the man
who had cheerfully executed his subordinate duties, in what he as
yet considered his proper sphere, now aimed at an equality with, or
superiority to, his own respected superiors. Thus arose the mutiny.”

“After the mutiny, numbers of the Irish were sent to foreign stations,
as a punishment, and disseminated the same spirit.”

The poor Irish! They have for many generations fought the battles
of the English, and of several other nations, but their case seems
more unsettled than before. Without a permanent contingent from Irish
recruits England would be badly off.

To continue with our quotation, “Patrick Little, who was Secretary to
Parker, the leader of the mutiny of the Nore, had been an attorney
in Dublin. He was sent to the West Indies, and, in a few months, was
accused of fostering mutiny there. He was not convicted of the full
offence charged, but was sent to receive six hundred lashes, did
receive two hundred and fifty, and is said to have died, soon after, of
the ‘prevailing fever.’

“The ships in the Mediterranean in 1797-’98-’99, were so short of men
that foreigners of all descriptions were received; and I have often
heard it stated that the fleet could not have gone to sea at times, if
a certain commissioner at Lisbon, about that period, had not assumed
the post of head of Police in that Metropolis, and made, occasionally,
clean sweep of all individuals on the quays and adjacent streets, who
were sent indiscriminately on board the British fleet; from whence none
returned who were serviceable.”

This British Admiral proceeds to quote, “if the battle of the Nile
had not been fought under the directing skill of such a chief, and
under _all the effects of surprise_, I have heard Sir Thomas Louis
declare that the result might have been very different. As it was,
the defence was much more obstinate than is generally imagined, and
much more protracted.” (In America we have been used to read English
accounts of the battles of those days, because they were written in our
own language.) He goes on to say, “I have understood it was certainly
not the superiority of the crews which prevailed. The Vanguard was
wretchedly manned; and but for the assistance of the Minotaur, which I
saw acknowledged in Lord Nelson’s handwriting, her fate would have been
precarious.”

These remarks are from high English cotemporary authority, we must
remember.

In a note, Admiral Ekins says, “at the conclusion of the war in
1802, the Victorious, of 74 guns, returned to Europe after serving
a considerable time in the East Indies; but, being in a bad state,
from length of service, reached no further than Lisbon. She was there
broken up. Part of her crew were put on board the Amazon, to be taken
to England to receive their wages and return to their homes. But,
unfortunately for them, poor fellows, before they arrived at Spithead,
war had again declared itself, and they learned, with tears streaming
from their eyes, that they were to be detained to serve another
war. They remained nine or ten years in the Amazon, and were then
distributed (the Amazon being worn out) to other ships. A few of them
were afterwards killed serving in the boats of the Bacchante, in the
Mediterranean. Perhaps the whole, certainly the greatest part, of these
men were originally impressed against their will.”

These are only some authentic instances of the state of the personnel
of the British Navy at this time; and the wonder is that the officers
did so well with such material. Men were often nine or ten years
without setting foot on shore.

And now to return to Admiral Duncan and his operations. Having, as
we have said, been left with only the Venerable, his flag-ship (a
name which reminds us of H. M. S. Pinafore), and the Adamant, he
nevertheless proceeded to his station, off the Texel, to watch the
Dutch, with whom they were then at war.

In the Texel lay at anchor the Dutch fleet of fifteen sail of the line
(including 56s), under the command of Vice Admiral De Winter.

In order to detain the latter in port until a reinforcement should
arrive, Admiral Duncan caused repeated signals to be made, as if to the
main body of his fleet in the offing. This stratagem, it was supposed,
had the desired effect. At length, about the middle of June, several
line-of-battle-ships, in detached portions, joined the British Admiral,
and the two fleets were again placed on an equal footing.

The Venerable, having been nearly five months at sea, and during a part
of the time exposed to very boisterous weather, was in want of almost
every description of stores. Others of the ships had also suffered
by the recent gales of wind, and were short of provisions. Thus
circumstanced, the Admiral, on the 3d of October, put into Yarmouth
roads, to refit and re-victual, leaving off the Dutch coast a small
squadron of observation, under the orders of Captain Trollope, of the
Russell.

Early on the morning of October 9th an armed lugger, hired as a
despatch vessel, came into the back of Yarmouth sands, with the signal
flying for an enemy.

After great bustle and hurried preparations, Admiral Duncan put to sea,
a little before noon, with eleven sail-of-the-line. With a fair wind
he steered straight for his old station. On the following day three
more ships joined him; so that he had seven 74s, and seven 64s, and two
50-gun frigates. There were also the Beaulieu, 40; the Circe, 28; and
the Martin, sloop.

On the afternoon of the 11th the advanced ships were near enough to
count twenty-two sail of square-rigged vessels, chiefly merchantmen, at
anchor in the Texel.

Admiral Duncan, having received from Captain Trollope information of
what course the enemy’s fleet was steering, now stood along shore to
the southward.

At about seven on the following morning, the Russell, Adamant and
Beaulieu were made out in the southwest, bearing at their mast-heads
the signals for an enemy in sight, to leeward; and at about half-past
eight a strange fleet, consisting of twenty-one ships and four brigs,
made its appearance in that quarter.

The Dutch fleet consisted of four 74s, seven 64s, four 50s and
two 44-gun ships, with two 32-gun frigates, two corvettes, four
brig-sloops, and two advice-boats. Some accounts give more ships than
this. Probably there were more.

These vessels, under the command of Vice-Admiral De Winter, had quitted
the Texel at ten o’clock on the morning of the 10th of October, with a
light breeze at about east by north. On the night of that day, the wind
being then southwest, Captain Trollope’s squadron was discovered by
them, to windward, and immediately chased; but the Dutch ships, being
dull sailers, did not come near him. The Dutch fleet then stretched out
toward the Meuse flat, where Admiral De Winter expected to be joined by
a 64-gun ship. Not meeting her, he stood on to the westward, followed,
or rather, as the wind was, preceded, by Captain Trollope’s squadron.

The wind continued westerly during the three succeeding days, and
prevented the Dutch fleet from getting abreast of Lowestoffe until the
evening of the 10th. The extreme darkness of that night induced Admiral
De Winter to detach a few of his best sailing ships, in hopes that they
would be enabled, by daybreak, to get to windward of, and capture or
chase away, Captain Trollope’s squadron, which had followed them with
great pertinacity. Just as the ships had made sail for that purpose
some friendly merchant ships came into the fleet, and informed Admiral
De Winter that the English fleet was within thirty miles of him, in the
north-northwest, and steering east by south. The detached ships were
instantly recalled; and the Dutch fleet, as soon as formed in compact
order, edged away, with the wind northwest, towards Camperdown, the
appointed place of rendezvous.

At daylight on the 11th the Dutch fleet was about thirty miles off
the village of Scheveningen, in loose order, and speaking a friendly
convoy, from which additional information was obtained.

At this time the English squadron of observation was seen to windward,
with numerous signals flying, which convinced Admiral De Winter that
the English fleet was in sight. He accordingly ordered his ships to
their stations, and to facilitate the junction of the ships most to
leeward, stood towards the land. The Wykerdens bearing east, about
twenty miles off, the Dutch fleet hauled to the wind, on the starboard
tack, and shortly afterwards discovered Admiral Duncan’s fleet in the
north-northwest. The Dutch fleet then tacked, and, as soon as a close
line was formed in the direction of northeast and southwest, the Dutch
ships, throwing their main top-sails aback, resolutely awaited the
approach of the British fleet.

Owing chiefly to inequality in point of sailing among the British
ships, their fleet, when that of the Dutch appeared in sight, was in
very loose order. To enable the dull sailers to take their proper
stations, Admiral Duncan, at about eleven A.M., brought to, on the
starboard tack; but soon afterwards observing that the Dutch ships
were drawing fast inshore, he made signal for each ship to engage her
opponent in the enemy’s line; then to bear up; and, lastly, for the van
to attack the enemy’s rear. At about half-past eleven, the centre of
the Dutch line then bearing southeast, distant four or five miles, the
British fleet bore down, but, owing to some of the ships not yet being
up, in no regular order of battle. Some were stretching across to get
into their stations; others seemed in doubt where to go; and others,
again, were pushing for the thickest of the enemy, without regard to
stations.

A little before noon Admiral Duncan made signal that he should pass
through the enemy’s line and engage him to leeward. This signal appears
to have been kept flying but a short time, and the weather was so
thick that the ships generally did not make it out. It was replaced by
one for close action, which was kept flying for an hour and a half;
till, indeed, it was shot away. About half-past twelve Vice-Admiral
Onslow, whose ship, the Monarch, was leading the advanced or port
division of the British fleet, cut through the Dutch line, between the
Haerlem, 64, and the Jupiter, 74; pouring into each, in passing, a
well-directed broadside. Then the Monarch, leaving the Haerlem to the
Powerful, which followed her, luffed up close alongside the Jupiter,
and these two ships became warmly engaged. The Jupiter carried the flag
of Vice-Admiral Reyntjes. The rounding to of the Monarch afforded the
Dutch Monnikendam frigate and Atalanta brig, which were in shore and
in the rear, an opportunity to rake the English ship several times;
and the very plucky little brig, in particular, did not retire until
she had been much damaged by the Monarch’s shot. It was supposed she
had been sunk by the 74, but she arrived safely, after the battle,
in a Dutch port. The remaining ships of the English port division,
especially the Monmouth, 64, and the Russell, 74, were soon in action
with the Dutch rear-ships; among the last of which to surrender was the
Jupiter, 74, the first to be engaged.

About twenty minutes after the Monarch, with Vice-Admiral Onslow’s
flag, had broken the Dutch line, Duncan’s flag-ship, the Venerable,
frustrated in an attempt to pass astern of the Vryheid, 74, De Winter’s
flag-ship, by the great promptness of the States-General, 74, in
closing the interval, ran under the stern of the latter, and soon
compelled her to bear up; and the Triumph, the Venerable’s second
astern, found herself closely engaged with the Wassenaer, the second
astern to the States-General. Meanwhile the Venerable had ranged up
close on the lee side of her first intended antagonist, the Vryheid,
with whom, on the other side, the Ardent was also warmly engaged, and
in front, the Belford, as she cut through the line astern of the Dutch
Gelykheid, 64. The Dutch ships Brutus, 74, Rear-Admiral Bloys, and the
Leyden, 64, and Mars, 44, not being pressed upon by opponents, advanced
to the succor of their closely beset Admiral, and did considerable
damage to the Venerable, as well as the Ardent, and others of the
British van ships. Just at this critical period the Hercules, 64,
which ship had caught fire on the poop, bore up and fell out of line,
drifting down very near the Venerable.

Although, to the surprise of every one, the Dutch crew managed to
extinguish the flames, yet, having thrown overboard their powder,
they were obliged to surrender the ship, which had already had her
mizzen-mast shot away, to the first opponent which challenged her. The
serious damages which the Venerable had sustained obliged her to haul
off and wear round on the starboard tack. Seeing this, the Triumph,
which had compelled the Wassenaer to strike, approached to help finish
the Vryheid; but that very gallant ship still made a good defence.
At length, after being pounded at by the Venerable, Triumph, Ardent
and Director, her three masts fell over the side, and disabled her
starboard guns, when the overmatched but heroic Vryheid dropped out of
the line of battle, an ungovernable hulk, and struck her colors.

A curious incident occurred in regard to the Wassenaer, 64, which, we
have just seen, was compelled by the English Triumph, 74, to strike
her colors, and fall out of the line. One of the Dutch brigs followed
her, and fired at her, persistently, until she re-hoisted her colors.
The Russel, 74, soon came up, however, and compelled the unfortunate
Wassenaer again to strike to her. With the surrender of Admiral De
Winter’s ship the action ceased, and the English found themselves
in possession of the Vryheid and Jupiter, 74s, Devries, Gelykheid,
Haerlem, Hercules and Wassenaer, 64s, Alkmaar and Delft, 50s, and the
frigates Monnikendam and Ambuscade. The first of these frigates had
been engaged by the Monmouth, 64, and was finally taken possession of
by the Beaulieu, a 40-gun frigate of the English.

The Dutch van ship, the Beschermer, 50, dreading, very naturally, so
strong an opponent as the Lancaster, 64, had early wore, and fallen
out of the line. Her example was followed, with much less reason, by
several of the other Dutch ships, which, although seen making off,
could not be pursued, on account of the nearness of the land, and the
shallowness of the water. The Venerable at this time sounded, and found
only nine fathoms, and the shore, under their lee, which was that
between Camperdown and Egmont, and about thirty miles northwest of
Amsterdam, was only about five miles off.

The British ships now hastened to secure their prizes, so that they
might, before nightfall, work clear of this dangerous coast.

The appearance of the victorious British fleet was very different from
that which generally presented itself after a battle with the French
or the Spaniards. Not a single lower mast, not even a topmast, in the
British fleet, was shot away. Nor were the sails and rigging of the
latter very much damaged.

It was at the hulls of their adversaries that the sturdy Dutchmen had
directed their shot, and they did not fire until they were so near that
no shot could well miss. All the English ships had shot sticking in
their sides; many were pierced by them in all directions, and some of
them had such dangerous wounds between wind and water that their pumps
had to be kept going briskly. The Ardent had received about one hundred
round shot in her hull; the Belliqueux, Belford, Venerable and Monarch
had nearly as many. But the latter ship was so untouched aloft, that
when her top-sail sheets, which had been shot away, were spliced and
hauled home, no one looking at her from a little distance would have
believed she had been in action.

With such fire, directed almost exclusively at the hulls, even by the
feeble guns of that day, the loss of men could not be otherwise than
severe. The British loss was 203 killed, and 622 wounded.

The captured ships were all either dismasted outright, or so injured in
their masts that most of the latter fell as soon as the wind and sea,
during the passage to England, began to act powerfully upon them. The
Dutch ships’ hulls were also terribly cut up, and were so damaged as
mostly to be brought into port to be exhibited as trophies, and then
broken up.

Their loss was proportionately severe. The Dutch Vice-Admiral and the
two Rear-Admirals were all wounded. Vice-Admiral Reyntjes died in
London soon after, not of his wound, but of a chronic disease. Captain
Holland, of the Wassenaer, was killed early in the action, which may
account, partially, for her not holding out longer. Admiral De Winter’s
captain, Van Rossem, had his thigh carried away by a round shot, and
died almost immediately.

Many other Dutch officers were killed and wounded, and their loss,
including that on board the Monnikendam frigate, which was not in the
line, was 540 killed, and 620 wounded.

The actual force of the two fleets in this battle was, according to
English accounts--not always very reliable at that time--

_British._ _Dutch._
Ships 16 16
Guns 1,150 1,034
Agg. weight of metal, lbs. 11,501 9,857
Crews 8,221 7,175
Size, tons 23,601 20,937

It is fair to say that the Dutch had several frigates and brigs abreast
the intervals in their line, which did good service, raking the English
ships as they came through and luffed up to leeward of the enemy’s line.

As it was, Admiral Duncan met and fought the Dutch fleet before a 98-
and two 74-gun ships which De Winter had expected could join him.

Admiral De Winter, in his official report of the action, attributed his
failure to four causes: first, the superiority of the British in large
ships; secondly, their having been together at sea for many weeks,
and hence well accustomed to work together; thirdly, the advantage
of the attack, and fourthly, the early retreat of some of his ships,
and the bad sailing of some of the others. He also expressed his
belief that, if his signals had been obeyed as promptly as Admiral
Duncan’s were, some of the English fleet would have been brought into
the Texel, instead of the Dutch ships going to England. His statement
about the English ships being so long together was not altogether
correct. Captain Williamson, of the English ship Agincourt, 64, was
court-martialed for his conduct in this action. He was accused of
disobedience of signals and failure to go into action; and also, on
a second charge, of cowardice or disaffection. The first charge was
found proved, but not the second, and Williamson received a very severe
sentence. It was proved on this trial that some of Admiral Duncan’s
fleet did not know other ships in the same fleet. In the great fleet
actions of those days, between ships-of-the-line, it was not customary
for frigates and smaller ships to fire, or to be fired at, unless they
provoked it; and the Dutch frigates, corvettes and brigs formed in
this action a second line, and fought well. The Dutch were, indeed, an
enemy not to be despised, and Admiral Duncan did full justice to the
determined way in which most of them fought.

Scarcely was the British fleet, with its prizes, pointed to the
westward, when a gale of wind came on, which scattered and endangered
the whole of them. The injured masts fell, and the vessels leaked
through shot-holes which in any ordinary weather would have been above
the reach of the water.

On the 13th, the Delft, 50, a prize, exhibited a board with the words
chalked on it “The ship is sinking.” Assistance was sent, and most
of the men removed; but several of the prize crew and many of the
prisoners perished in her, so quickly did she founder.

The Monnikendam frigate was wrecked on a shoal; but all on board were
saved; and the Ambuscade frigate, being driven on the Dutch coast, was
recaptured. One by one the rest of the scattered fleet and the prizes
reached English ports.

Admiral Duncan was made a peer, and Vice-Admiral Onslow a baronet,
for this action. Gold medals were presented to the flag-officers and
captains; and the thanks of Parliament were voted to the fleet.

We often realize more of the real spirit of a fight from private
accounts and comments than from the official reports; and we,
therefore, add a few remarks and anecdotes from such sources. In the
first place, the promptitude and decision of Admiral Duncan on meeting
the Dutch fleet is especially to be noticed. “The British Admiral soon
perceived that if he waited to form his line (the enemy drawing fast
in with the land) there would be no action.” He, therefore, hoisted
the signal to make all sail, break the line, and engage the enemy to
leeward; and for close action, which last signal flew until it was shot
away. This signal could not be mistaken, and, coupled with the gallant
Admiral’s example, superseded all former ones.

If further proof of the superior efficacy of such a mode of attack be
wanting, it is to be found not only in the declaration of the brave
Dutch Admiral, but also in the testimony of Lord Nelson, who, although
not acquainted with Lord Duncan, wrote to him, after the battle of the
Nile, to tell him how “he had profited by his example.”

The Dutch Admiral De Winter said, “Your not waiting to form a line
ruined me; if I had got nearer to the shore, and you had attacked, I
should probably have drawn both fleets on, and it would have been a
victory to me, being on my own coast.”

It is a fact that many of the vessels of Admiral Duncan’s fleet were
intended for Indiamen, and not so stoutly built as men-of-war usually
are; and many of his ships were in bad condition, and had not had
time to complete their stores when called away from Yarmouth Roads to
encounter the enemy.

Among other incidents of this action, it is recorded that, when the
main-top-gallant mast of the Venerable was shot away, a seaman named
Crawford went aloft with another flag, and hammer and nails, and nailed
the flag to the topmast-head.

Had Duncan’s fleet been of as good material as that of Lord St.
Vincent, it is probable that every Dutch ship would have been taken.
When the action ceased the English fleet were in only nine fathoms of
water, and a severe gale was nearly upon them; and the wonder is that
they saved themselves and so many of their prizes, in their battered
condition.

Captain Inglis, of the Belliqueux, of 64 guns, owing either to a long
absence from active service, or an inaptitude to the subject, sometimes
apparent in sea officers, had neglected to make himself a competent
master of the signal-book, and on the morning of the day of the
battle, when it became necessary to act with promptitude in obedience
to signals, found himself more puzzled than enlightened by it, and,
throwing it with contempt upon the deck, exclaimed, in broad Scotch:
“D--n me, up wi’ the hellum, and gang intil the middle o’t!”

In this manner he bravely anticipated the remedy in such cases provided
by Nelson, who, in his celebrated “Memorandum,” observes that, “when a
captain should be _at a loss_ he cannot do _very wrong_ if he lay his
ship alongside of the enemy.”

In strict conformity with this doctrine the Belliqueux got herself very
roughly treated by the van of the Dutch fleet.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE NILE.--FRENCH FLAG-SHIP L’ORIENT, 120
GUNS, ON FIRE.]

BATTLE OF THE NILE. 1ST. AUGUST, 1798.

This battle is called by the French _Aboukir_, the name of the bay
in which it took place, and it is really a more proper name for the
action, as only a small mouth of the Nile opened into the bay.

Beside the great naval action, Aboukir has given its name to a bloody
and decisive land battle, which took place July 25th, 1799, between the
French and a Turkish army. We may dispose of the latter briefly before
taking up the more important sea fight, although in point of time the
latter precedes it a year.

Bonaparte having learned of the landing of a Turkish army of 18,000
infantry at Aboukir, advanced to attack them, at the head of only
about 6000 men. The Turks, who were mostly Janissaries, had a very
considerable force of artillery, and were in part commanded by English
officers. Being strongly intrenched at the village of Aboukir, they
should have beaten off the French force easily; but, at the word of
command from Bonaparte, Generals D’Estaing, Murat and Lannes attacked
the entrenchments with desperate courage, and, after a terrible fight,
which lasted some hours, the Turks were fairly driven into the sea.
Thousands of bodies floated upon the bay, which the year before had
borne the corpses of so many French sailors, who had perished from
gun-shot or by fire. Perhaps for the first time in the history of
modern warfare, an army was entirely destroyed.

It was on this occasion that Kleber, at the close of the fighting,
seized Bonaparte in his arms, and embracing him, exclaimed: “General,
you are the greatest man in the world!”

A year previous to the event just recorded, while Bonaparte was
occupied in organizing his new conquest of Egypt, fortune was preparing
for him one of the most terrible reverses which the French arms had
ever met, by sea or by land.

What must have made it harder for him to bear was, that when leaving
Alexandria to go to Cairo he had very strongly recommended Admiral
Brueys, who commanded the fleet which had brought him to Egypt, not
to remain at the anchorage of Aboukir, where the English could, he
thought, take him at a disadvantage. In fact, Napoleon’s military mind
foresaw just what afterwards happened.

Brueys at first thought of taking his fleet to Corfu, but lost precious
time in waiting for news from Cairo, and this delay brought on the
disaster which had a very important influence in moulding the destiny,
not only of Egypt, but of the whole of Europe.

Learning of the departure of a large body of troops, and of a strong
fleet, from Toulon, but in entire ignorance of the object of their
expedition, Nelson, after vainly seeking for them in the Archipelago,
in the Adriatic, at Naples, and on the coasts of Sicily, at last
learned with certainty that they had effected a landing in Egypt. He
made all sail at once for Alexandria, determined to fight the French
fleet the moment it was found, and wherever it might be. He found it at
Aboukir bay, just to the eastward of Alexandria, on the 1st of August,
1798; and we shall now give a general sketch of what ensued, and after
that the particulars of this important action--from both French and
English sources.

Although it was nearly six o’clock in the evening when the French fleet
was discovered, Nelson resolved to attack immediately.

Admiral Brueys’ fleet was moored in the bay, which forms a pretty
regular semicircle, and had arranged his thirteen ships-of-the-line
in a curved line, parallel with the shore; having upon his left, or
western flank, a little island, called also Aboukir.

Thinking it impossible that a ship-of-the-line could pass between this
island and the last ship of his line, to take him in the rear, he
contented himself with establishing upon the island a battery of twelve
or fourteen guns; thinking, indeed, that part of his position so little
liable to attack that he placed his worst vessels there.

But with an adversary like Nelson, most formidable, not only for the
brilliancy of his conceptions, but for the skillful audacity with which
he carried them out, the precautions which under ordinary circumstances
would have been sufficient proved of no avail.

The British fleet comprised the same number of line-of-battle-ships as
the French, but the latter had more smaller ships.

The British Admiral advanced intrepidly to the attack; a portion of
his ships taking a course between the French line and the coast. The
Culloden, the leading English ship, ran upon a shoal, and stuck fast;
but, although her batteries were thus thrown out of the engagement
which followed, her mishap piloted the others in. The Goliath, the
Audacious, the Theseus and the Orion succeeded in passing inside the
French line; penetrating as far as the Tonnant, which was the eighth of
the French line, and thus engaged the French centre and left.

The rest of the English fleet advanced outside the French line, and so
put the left and centre of it between two fires.

The battle was a terrible one, especially at the French centre, where
the French Admiral’s ship, L’Orient, was stationed. The Bellerophon,
one of Nelson’s best ships, was dismasted, terribly cut up, and obliged
to haul off; and other English ships so damaged that they were obliged
to withdraw.

In spite of the success of Nelson’s grand manœuvre, Brueys still had
some chance of success, if the orders which he gave to his right,
or eastern, wing had been carried out. But Admiral Villeneuve, who
commanded there, did not make out Brueys’ signals, and remained in his
position, at anchor, instead of getting under way, and doubling upon
the English outside line, which would have thus put the latter, in
their turn, between two fires.

Nelson’s ready mind had foreseen this danger; but Villeneuve, who was
to lose another even more important battle at Trafalgar, lacked the
instinctive resolution which causes a second in command, under such
circumstances, to hasten to the relief of his chief, without formal
orders.

Like Grouchy at Waterloo, he heard and saw the cannonade which was
destroying the centre and left of the French line, without coming to
the rescue; and while that part of the French fleet was performing
prodigies of valor to uphold the honor of their flag, Villeneuve
escaped, with four ships-of-the-line, thinking himself praiseworthy in
saving them from the fate of the rest.

The unfortunate Brueys, though wounded, would not leave the deck.
“An Admiral ought to die giving his orders,” he is reported, on good
authority, to have said. Not long after this speech another shot killed
him. The brave Captain Dupetit-Thouars had both legs carried away,
but, like the Admiral, would not leave the deck, but remained there,
taking snuff, and coolly directing operations, until another shot
struck and killed him.

In fact, acts of heroism were performed by many of the officers and men
on both sides.

About eleven o’clock at night the Orient, a huge and magnificent
vessel, blew up, with a terrible explosion. By this time all the French
vessels were destroyed or rendered worthless, except the four carried
off by Villeneuve, and Nelson’s fleet was in no condition to pursue
them.

Such, in brief, was the celebrated battle of Aboukir, or the Nile,
the most disastrous the French navy had ever fought, and the military
consequences of which were of such immense importance. It shut up
the French and their army in Egypt, and abandoned them to their own
resources.

France lost, and England gained, ascendancy in the Levant, and what was
worse, it destroyed the _morale_ of the French navy--the effects being
seen for years, and especially at Trafalgar.

And now we will proceed to give a more detailed account of the action.

Nelson’s fleet arrived off Alexandria on the morning of the 1st
of August, at about 10 o’clock. They found there a forest of
masts--belonging to transports and troopships, but few men-of-war. The
harbor did not permit of the entrance of such large ships as composed
the French line. The two British look-out ships, the Alexander and
Swiftsure, also found the French flag flying on the forts and walls.

About noon the Zealous, which ship had been looking further to the
eastward (just as the Pharos tower of Alexandria bore south-southwest,
distant about 20 miles), signaled that sixteen ships-of-the-line lay
at anchor, in line of battle, in a bay upon her port bow.

The British fleet instantly hauled up, steering to the eastward, under
top-gallant sails, with a fine breeze from the northward and westward.
These ships were in good discipline, and it did not take them long to
clear for action.

Let us now turn to the French fleet, which they were soon to encounter.
On the 1st of July, Admiral Brueys, with his fleet, brought to off the
old port of Alexandria, and at once learned that a British squadron had
been looking for him there. On hearing this, General Bonaparte desired
to be landed, and the Admiral at once proceeded to disembark the
General and 6000 men, in a creek near Marabout Castle, about six miles
from the city of Alexandria.

Between the 1st and the 6th of July all the troops, with their baggage,
were landed; and six vessels, armed _en flute_, went into Alexandria
harbor, to protect the transports. As the ships-of-the-line drew
too much water to enter, Admiral Brueys, with three frigates and 13
sail-of-the-line, stood off and proceeded to Aboukir bay, about 15
miles to the eastward of Alexandria. Reaching the bay, he anchored his
ships very judiciously, in line ahead, about one hundred and sixty
yards (Engl.) from each other, with the van-ship close to a shoal in
the northwest, and the whole of the line just outside a four-fathom
bank. It was thus considered that an enemy could not turn either flank.

The French ships, beginning at the van, were ranged in the following
order: Guerrier, Conquérant, Spartiate, Aquilon, Peuple-Souvérain (all
74’s), the Franklin, 80, Rear-Admiral Blanquet, second in command;
Orient, 120, (formerly called the Sans Culotte, and the flag-ship of
Admiral Brueys, Rear-Admiral Gauteaume and Captain Casa-Bianca); next
the Tonnant, 80; the Heureux, 74; the Mercure, 74; the Guillaume Tell,
80, and the Généreux and Timoléon, both 74’s.

Having thus moored his fleet in a strong position, the French Admiral
awaited the issue of General Bonaparte’s operations on shore.

He also erected the battery already spoken of on Aboukir island, and
four frigates--the Diane, Justice, Artemise and Sérieuse, with four
brigs and several gunboats, were stationed along the bank, inside, or
at the flanks of the line, so as best to annoy an enemy in his approach.

Yet Admiral Brueys appears to have been taken, at last, rather by
surprise. No doubt the short interval which had elapsed between the
departure of a reconnoitring fleet and the arrival of another led him
to the belief that the English were aware of the proximity of the
French fleet, and for want of sufficient strength declined to attack
it. So that, when the Heureux, at 2 P. M. of the 1st of August, made
the signal for a fleet in the northwest, the French ships were still
lying at single anchor, without springs on their cables; and many of
the crew of each ship were on shore, getting water. These were at once
recalled; and some of the men of the frigates were sent to reinforce
the crews of the largest vessels. The latter crossed top-gallant yards,
as if about to get under way, but the French Admiral thought that
his enemy would never attack at night, in such a position, and so he
remained at anchor. When Nelson’s movements undeceived him, he ordered
the ships to let go another bower anchor, and another one to be carried
out to the S. S. E.; but very few of his ships found time to do either.

Before the English fleet approached the bay, each ship got a cable out
of a gun-room port, and bent it to an anchor, and prepared springs, to
give requisite bearing to her broadside. This was to enable the ships
to anchor by the stern, in the best position for attacking the enemy,
and for supporting each other.

As the British approached the bay, two French brigs stood out to
reconnoitre, and one of them, the Alerte, stretched towards the shoal
which lies off Aboukir island, in the hope that one or more of the
English would follow her, and get on shore. But this _ruse de guerre_
was disregarded, and the English fleet stood on.

About half-past five the signal was made to form in line of battle,
ahead and astern of the Admiral, as most convenient. By a little after
six, in spite of some confusion from a new order of sailing, the line
was pretty well formed, and eleven of the ships had rounded the shoal
at the western side of the bay, and, with the wind on the starboard
quarter, were rapidly approaching the French. The Culloden was astern
of the rest; and far astern of the Culloden were the Alexander and
Swiftsure, all three making every effort to get up into line.

At about twenty minutes past six the French hoisted their colors, and
their two van ships, the Guerrier and Conquérant, opened a fire upon
the two leading English ships, the Goliath and Zealous. The guns in
the battery on the island also opened now, and fired also on the other
ships, as they rounded the shoal. They ceased to fire, however, after
the engagement became close, for fear of injuring their own van ships.

Soon the Goliath crossed the bows of the Guerrier, and ranging past
her, let go her stern anchor, and brought up abreast of the small
opening between the Conquérant and Spartiate. As she passed she kept up
a spirited fire upon the two van ships, as well as engaging, from the
other battery, a mortar-brig and a frigate, nearly abeam.

The Zealous, close astern of the Goliath, came in and anchored abreast
the inner or port bow of the Guerrier, the French van ship. The English
Vanguard and Minotaur then making for the starboard side of the enemy’s
line, left the Theseus to follow the Zealous. This she did, passing
between the latter and her opponent, and along past the Goliath,
anchoring directly ahead of the latter, and, within two cables’ length
of the Spartiate’s beam. The Orion, having passed inshore of the
Zealous and Goliath, found herself assailed by the Sérieuse frigate,
anchored inshore. As soon as the Orion’s starboard guns would bear, she
opened on the frigate, and dismasted and sunk her in a few minutes; but
she was in such shoal water that her upper works were dry. Passing on,
the Orion passed the Theseus, and dropped her bower, so that she swung
with her bows towards the Theseus. Then she veered away until between
the Peuple Souvérain and the Franklin, firing into the port bow of the
latter and the port quarter of the former.

The Audacious, having from the outside cut the opening between the
Guerrier and the Conquérant, came to, with a small bower, and opened
upon the Conquérant, at only about forty yards’ distance. In a few
minutes the Audacious swung round the Conquérants bows, and brought up,
head to wind, within about the same distance of her, on the port side.

Nelson had wisely resolved to complete the capture or destruction of
the French van ships before he made any attempt upon those in the rear.
He knew that the latter, from their leeward situation, would be unable
to afford any immediate support to the former.

So, as the first step, the Vanguard anchored abreast of the Spartiate,
within half pistol-shot, on her starboard side. The Minotaur anchored
next ahead of the Vanguard, opposed to the Aquilon; and the Defence,
still on the outer English line, brought up abreast of the Peuple
Souvérain. The Bellerophon and Majestic passed on to close with the
French centre and rear, on the outside.

These eight British and five French ships should be followed by
themselves in their action.

The Guerrier receiving a raking broadside from each English ship which
passed her bows, and a succession of the same from the judiciously
placed Zealous, lost all three masts and bowsprit in a quarter of an
hour, without being able to bring enough guns to bear to seriously
damage any of her antagonists.

The French apparently did not expect any action on the port side,
and were not prepared in that battery. The knowledge that French and
Spanish ships seldom cleared for action on both sides, and also that
the French must have allowed themselves room to swing, in the event
of the wind’s blowing directly on shore, induced the English to pass
between them and the shore, especially as the English ships generally
drew less water, and thus all fear of getting aground was dispelled.
The unfortunate Guerrier, having been completely cut to pieces, and
having most of her crew disabled, was forced to strike.

The Conquérant, besides receiving fire from the ships which ran by her,
had to withstand a portion of the fire of the Theseus, and all that
of the Goliath and the Audacious, the latter, for a time, in a raking
position. At the end of about twelve minutes, being dismasted, and from
her position unable to make a suitable return fire, the Conquérant
hauled down her flag. She struck, indeed, before the Guerrier did.
In doing this the Goliath and Audacious were considerably damaged,
principally in spars and rigging.

Next we come to the Spartiate. She sustained, for some time, the fire
of both the Theseus and the Vanguard, with occasional shots from the
quarter guns of the Audacious and the bow guns of the Minotaur. Her
masts were soon shot away, and she surrendered at about the same time
as the Guerrier.

The Aquilon, astern of the Spartiate, had a slanting position in the
line, and made a good fight, raking the Vanguard with dreadful effect,
but was at last overcome by the batteries of the Minotaur. The Vanguard
was very much injured. The unusually powerful broadside of the Minotaur
(she being the only ship in either fleet which had 32-pounders in the
upper battery), aided by the occasional fire of the Theseus, within the
line, soon dismasted the Aquilon, and compelled her surrender. This
occurred about half-past nine.

Next we come to the Peuple Souvérain. She was subjected to the
close and well-sustained fire of the Defence, and occasional raking
broadsides from the Orion, as the latter ship lay on the Peuple
Souvérain’s inner quarter. This ship, having had her fore and main
masts shot away, and being, in other respects, greatly disabled, cut
her cable and dropped out of the French line, anchoring again abreast
of the Orient, and about two cables’ length from her.

The fore-top-mast of the Peuple Souvérain’s opponent, the Defence, fell
over the side just as the French ship had ceased firing and quitted
the line. The Defence then veered away on her cable, and brought up on
the outer or starboard bow of the Franklin. The Defence’s three lower
masts and bowsprit were tottering, in consequence of the fire of the
Peuple Souvérain; and both hull and masts of the Minotaur were very
much damaged by the fire of the Aquilon. But of the eight British ships
whose conduct we have detailed, the Defence was the only one who had
actually had spars to fall. The order in which the five French van
ships surrendered appears to have been thus; 1st. Conquérant; Guerrier
and Spartiate next, and at the same time; then the Aquilon; and lastly,
the Peuple Souvérain.

In order to lessen the confusion of a night attack, and to prevent
the British vessels from firing into each other, every ship had been
directed to hoist at her mizzen-peak four lights horizontally. The
English fleet also went into action with the white, or St. George’s
ensign (at this day used exclusively by the British Navy), the red
cross in the centre of which rendered it easily distinguishable, in
the darkest night, from the tri-colored flag of the French. At about
seven o’clock the lights made their appearance throughout the fleet;
and it was at about the same time that the Bellerophon dropped her
stern anchor so as to bring up abreast, instead of on the bow, of the
French three-decker. In a very few minutes afterwards the English
Majestic brought up abreast of the Tonnant, and soon lost her captain
by that ship’s heavy fire. Subsequently, on this dreadful night, when
the Tonnant cut her cable, to keep clear of the Orient, the Majestic
slipped _her_ cable, to keep clear of the hawse of her consort, the
Heureux. The Majestic then let go her best bower anchor, and again
brought up, head to wind. She now had the Tonnant on her port bow, and
the Heureux on her starboard quarter.

[Illustration: NELSON WOUNDED AT TENERIFFE.]

[Illustration: DUTCH MAN-OF-WAR, 17TH CENTURY.]

The Swiftsure, of the English fleet, having passed the Alexander, when
the latter tacked to avoid Aboukir shoal, now came crowding up. At
about 8 o’clock she anchored by the stern, judiciously placing herself
on the starboard bow of the Orient, and on the starboard quarter of
the Franklin; while, into the port bow of the latter ship, the Leander,
having taking an admirable position in the vacant space left by the
Peuple Souvérain, poured several broadsides which had no response. The
Leander would have been much earlier in action, but for having hove to,
to try to assist the Culloden.

Almost immediately after, the Alexander passed through the wide opening
which the driving of the Tonnant had left, and dropped her bower
anchor, so as to bring her starboard broadside to bear on the port
quarter of the Orient.

Until the Leander took up a position inside of the Orion, the
latter had been firing into the Franklin, and the Minotaur was also
occasionally firing at the Franklin. But after the Peuple Souvérain
quitted the line, the Franklin was engaged almost entirely with the
Defence. The fight was thus going on, most intrepidly on both sides,
when an event occurred which seemed to appall every one, and suspended,
for a time, the hostile operations of the two fleets.

From the moment that the Bellerophon had, with so much more gallantry
than judgment, stationed herself alongside the huge Orient, a heavy
cannonade had been kept up between the two ships. So decidedly was it
to the disadvantage of the English ship, the Bellerophon, that her
mizen, and then her main mast, were cut away, doing much damage in
their fall.

At about nine o’clock a fire was observed on board the Orient. To those
on board the Bellerophon it appeared to be on the second deck; while to
those on board the Swiftsure it appeared to be in the French flagship’s
mizzen chains. The origin of the accident has been variously explained.
By some it is said to be due to paint-pots, oil and other combustibles
in the chains. Others decide that it was due to premature ignition of
combustibles arranged by the French to burn the English ships. The
truth will never be known now. At any rate, all of the Swiftsure’s guns
which would bear were directed to fire upon the seat of combustion.
It was soon evident that they were firing with precision--for the
French could not approach the spot. The Bellerophon, much damaged by
her powerful opponent, and fearing fire for herself, now cut her stern
cable, loosed her spirit-sail, and wore clear of the Orient’s guns. The
Orient was keeping up a splendid and uninterrupted fire from the first
deck in particular, even after the upper part of the ship was entirely
involved in flames. Scarcely had the Bellerophon effected her escape
when her foremast fell over her port bow, killing a lieutenant and
several men by its fall. The fact that the Bellerophon could thus drop
clear shows that the French line continued to lay head to the wind,
although many statements to the contrary were made.

At about ten the Orient blew up, with a tremendous explosion, which
seemed, for the time, to paralyze every one, in both fleets. It must
have been an awful sight, of which description would fall short; for
certainly, no vessel of such a size had blown up before, and none so
large has blown up since. The effect produced upon the adjacent ships
was different. The Alexander, Swiftsure and Orion, the three nearest
English ships, had made every preparation for the event which they saw
was inevitable. They closed their ports and hatchways, removed from
their decks all cartridges and combustible material, and had their
firemen ready, with buckets and pumps. The shock of the explosion
shook the ships to their very keelsons, opened their seams, and did
considerable other injury. A flaming mass flew over the Swiftsure.
Some burning fragments fell into her tops, but the wise action of her
commander in not hauling further off probably saved her. A part of the
blazing mass fell on board the Alexander, much further off than the
Swiftsure, and a port-fire set fire to some of the upper sails of the
Alexander, as well as to her jib. The crew extinguished the flames,
after cutting away the jib-boom and other spars. The Alexander then
dropped to a safer distance.

Among the French ships, the Franklin received the greatest share of
burning wreck from the Orient. Her decks were covered with red-hot
pitch, pieces of timber, and burning rope. She caught fire, but they
succeeded in putting it out. The Tonnant, a near neighbor, just before
the explosion, slipped her cable and dropped clear. The Heureux and
Mercure did the same.

After the explosion it was full ten minutes until a gun was fired
again. On both sides there was a sort of paralysis, and a waiting for
what next was to occur. The wind seemed to have been lulled by the
concussion, but then freshened up again, whistled about the rigging of
the ships, ruffled the surface of the water, and aroused, by its cool
breath, the benumbed faculties of the combatants.

The first ship to renew the fire was the much damaged French ship
Franklin. She had only her lower battery, but opened with that, upon
the Defence and Swiftsure; and they returned it, with full effect.
Being surrounded by enemies, the gallant Franklin, fighting until her
main and mizzen masts had gone by the board, and having scarcely a
serviceable gun left, and half her crew dead or wounded, hauled down
her colors.

It was now midnight. The Tonnant was the only French ship which
kept her battery in active play. Her shot annoyed the Swiftsure,
particularly; while the latter, owing to the position of the Alexander,
could make little or no return.

At 3 A.M. the formidable and unremitting fire of the Tonnant shot away
the main and mizzen masts of the Majestic; and shortly after, the
Tonnant herself had all three masts shot away, close to the deck. The
wreck of the masts falling over her battery caused her to cease firing,
but, for all that, she did not strike. Indeed, by veering cable, she
had dropped to leeward of her second position, and there lay, like a
lion at bay.

The Heureux and Mercure having, as stated, withdrawn from the line,
left room for the Tonnant to take a position ahead of the Guillaume
Tell and the two ships in her rear. This she did; and then a second
interval of silence occurred in this awful battle.

Just as day broke, about four o’clock, the fire opened again, between
the Tonnant, Guillaume Tell, Généreux and Timoléon, on the French side,
and the Alexander and the Majestic on the other. This firing soon
brought down the Theseus and Goliath.

Soon after these ships arrived, the French frigate Artémise fired
a broadside at the Theseus, and then struck her colors. A boat was
dispatched from the English ship, to take possession; but the frigate
was discovered to be on fire, and soon after blew up. In the meantime
the four French line-of-battle ships, and the two frigates inside of
them, kept dropping to leeward, so as, presently, to be almost out of
gunshot of the English vessels that had anchored to attack them.

At about six o’clock in the morning the Goliath and Theseus got under
way, and, accompanied by the Alexander and Leander, stood towards the
French Mercure and Heureux. These, on quitting the line, had first
anchored within it, and then had run on shore on the southerly side
of the bay. These two ships, after interchanging a few distant shots,
struck their colors.

About an hour before noon the Généreux and Guillaume Tell, with the
frigates Justice and Diane, got under way, and made sail to the
northeast, the absence to leeward of the three English ships which were
in a condition to carry sail giving them an opportunity to get clear.
The Timoléon, being too far to leeward to fetch clear, ran herself on
shore, losing her fore-mast by the shock. The four other French ships
now hauled close, on the port tack, and the Zealous, the only other
English ship in a condition to make sail, stood after them. After
some distant firing, the four French ships stretched on, and escaped.
In this affair the Zealous had one man killed, who had already been
wounded on the day before.

And now to sum up. Of the thirteen French ships-of-the-line, one
had been totally destroyed, with nearly all on board; eight had
surrendered, and two had got clear. Of the two remaining, one, the
Timoléon, was on shore, with her colors flying; the other, the
indomitable Tonnant, having had her second cable cut by the fire of the
Alexander, was lying about two miles away, a mere wreck, but with her
colors flying on the stump of her main-mast.

Things remained in this state until the following morning, the 3d of
August, when the Theseus and Alexander approached the Tonnant, and,
further resistance being utterly hopeless, the gallant French ship
hauled down her colors, replacing them with a flag of truce, and was
taken possession of by a boat from the Theseus.

The principal part of the crew of the Timoléon had, during the night,
escaped on shore, although a few had been taken off in the four vessels
which escaped. Between three and four hundred of those who reached the
shore were murdered by the Bedouins, while a few fought their way to a
French camp. Those who remained by the ship set her on fire, and she
soon after blew up, making the eleventh line-of-battle-ship lost by the
French in the battle of Aboukir, or the Nile.

As for the British ships engaged in this great battle, their damages
were chiefly aloft. The Bellerophon was the only British ship entirely
dismasted, and the Majestic the only one, beside her, which lost a
lower mast. The Alexander and Goliath lost top-masts; but the lower
masts, yards and bowsprits of all the British ships were more or less
damaged. And we must remember, that such damage was almost equivalent
to loss of propellers or boiler in ships of our day.

The Bellerophon’s hull was very much shattered, and many of her guns
broken to pieces. The Vanguard had received very great injury in her
hull, while the Swiftsure had received from the Tonnant shots under
water, which kept four feet of water in her hold during the entire
action, in spite of the pumps. The Theseus was hulled seventy times,
and the Majestic was in nearly as shattered a state as the Bellerophon.

The loss of the English was 218 killed and 678 wounded. Admiral Nelson
was struck by a splinter a little above his right, or blind eye,
causing a piece of skin to hang down over the lid. This was replaced
and sewed up.

The Bellerophon suffered most in killed and wounded, and the Majestic
next.

As regards the captured French ships, the statistics of loss were never
properly given. Five of them were entirely dismasted, and were rendered
unseaworthy as to their hulls.

The Peuple Souvérain and the Franklin, though not entirely dismasted,
were not in much better plight than the others. The Mercure and Heureux
were principally damaged by running on shore, where they lay with their
top-gallant yards across, to all appearance as perfect as when the
action commenced.

As no official account of the French loss was given, the matter was
left open to conjecture. One of the lowest estimates makes the French
loss 2000. It was probably more.

The French commander-in-chief, Admiral Brueys, while upon the Orient’s
poop, received three wounds, one of which was in the head. Soon
afterwards, as he was descending to the quarter-deck, a shot almost cut
him in two. He asked not to be carried below, but to be allowed to die
on deck--which he did, in a few minutes.

Casa Bianca, the captain of the Orient, is said, by some accounts,
to have died by the Admiral’s side; but, by the account most
generally received, he died, with his son, who was only ten years
old, in the great explosion. Captains Thévenard, of the Aquilon, and
Dupetit-Thouars, of the Tonnant, were killed, and six other captains
were dangerously wounded.

Mention must be made of the Culloden, which had run on a reef of rocks,
off the Island of Aboukir, and did not get into the action. Her running
on shore saved the Alexander and Swiftsure--both of which ships did
such good service. Every effort was made, with the assistance of the
Mutine brig, to get the Culloden off. But the swell increased, and she
lost her rudder, and began to leak badly. Next day she came off, much
damaged, and with seven feet of water in her hold, but was eventually
saved, by good seamanship.

In this great action the number of line-of-battle-ships was the same on
both sides; but the weight of metal, the gross tonnage, and number of
men were on the side of the French. The French ships were conquered in
detail, by a masterly and bold manœuvre of Nelson’s. Had the unengaged
French ships got under way, they would have no doubt captured the
Culloden, prevented the two other English ships from entering the bay,
and, possibly, turned the tide of battle.

The great disaster which befell the huge three-decker, the Orient, no
doubt gave a decided turn of the action in favor of the English.

With respect to the behavior of the French, nothing could be more
gallant than the defence made by each of the six van-ships; by the
Orient, in the centre, and by the Tonnant, in the rear. The Heureux
and Mercure appear to have been justified in quitting the line, by the
great danger of fire ahead of them--however precipitate in running
themselves on shore. No instance of personal misconduct was ever
reported, in either fleet.

The engagement and its consequences ruined the French hopes of
receiving the reinforcement of troops destined for Egypt; it left the
Porte free to declare war against them; it rekindled the war with
the German States; it opened the Mediterranean to the Russians, and
occasioned the loss of Italy and the Adriatic possessions, which had
been won by Bonaparte in his great campaigns. Finally, it put the
English at ease concerning India, while the Egyptians became more
inimical, and the French there, isolated as they were, were put upon a
strictly defensive policy.

On the morning of the 14th of August, after an incredible deal of labor
in refitting the ships, the prizes, rigged with jury-masts and weakly
manned, proceeded to the westward, except the Heureux, the Mercure
and the Guerrier, which were in too bad a state to be refitted, and
which were burned. A fleet was left, under Captain Hood, to cruise off
Alexandria. Nelson, himself, in the Vanguard, with two other ships,
went to Naples, which he had better never have seen, for events there
occurred which have always more or less tarnished his fame.

The English public had all summer been reproaching Rear-Admiral Sir
Horatio Nelson for his _tardiness_ in finding the French fleet, and the
news of his great action (owing to the capture of the Leander, which
had been sent with the news) did not reach England until the 2d of
October, and then the English people thought they could not do enough
to make amends for their complaints against the brightest ornament of
their favorite service. On October 6th Nelson was made a peer, with the
title of Baron Nelson of the Nile, and of Burnham Thorpe, in the County
of Norfolk. Thanks of Parliament, of course, followed, and a pension of
£2000 per annum, to him and his two next heirs male, was granted by the
Parliament of England, and £1000 from that of Ireland. Gold medals were
presented to Lord Nelson and his captains, and the first lieutenants of
all the ships were promoted to commanders. In regard to the Culloden,
which ran on shore, and, of course, was not engaged, Nelson wrote:
“I sincerely hope it is not intended to exclude the first lieutenant
of the Culloden; for heaven’s sake, for my sake, if it be so, get it
altered.”

Strictly speaking, only the captains _engaged_ were to have medals, but
the King himself expressly authorized Lord Spencer to present one to
Captain Trowbridge, of the Culloden. Nelson wrote to Earl St. Vincent
concerning this officer: “The eminent services of our friend deserve
the very highest rewards. I have experienced the ability and activity
of his mind and body. It was Trowbridge who equipped the squadron so
soon at Syracuse; it was Trowbridge who exerted himself for me after
the action; it was Trowbridge who saved the Culloden, when none that I
know in the service would have attempted it; it is Trowbridge whom I
have left as myself at Naples; he is, as a friend and as an officer, a
_non-pareil_.”

The East India Company presented Lord Nelson with £10,000, and
Liverpool, London and many other cities voted him rewards. The Sultan
presented him with a diamond aigrette and robe of honor; and instituted
a new Order, that of the Crescent, and made Nelson the first knight
companion of it, while many other foreign powers presented tokens of
respect for his talents and bravery. The finest of the French prizes
which the captors succeeded in getting home was the Franklin. Her name
was changed to Canopus, the ancient name of Aboukir.

The following is Nelson’s official letter to Lord St. Vincent,
announcing the victory. It is the letter which was captured in the
Leander, on her way to the westward, by the Généreux.

“VANGUARD, off the Mouth of the Nile,
“August 3d, 1798.

“MY LORD:--Almighty God has blessed his Majesty’s arms, in the late
battle, by a great victory over the fleet of the enemy, whom I attacked
at sunset on the 1st of August, off the mouth of the Nile.

“The enemy were moored in a strong line-of-battle for defending the
entrance of the Bay (of shoals), flanked by numerous gunboats, four
frigates, and a battery of guns and mortars on an island in their van,
etc.

“The ships of the enemy, all but their two rear ships, are nearly
dismasted, and those two, with two frigates, I am sorry to say, made
their escape; nor was it in my power to prevent it, etc.

“Captain Berry will present you with the flag of the second in command,
that of the commander-in-chief being burned in L’Orient, etc.”

As personal remarks and details by eye-witnesses of celebrated actions
are always of interest, we may, at the risk of being prolix, add some
extracts from a private letter of Sir Samuel Hood to Lord Bridport, and
terminate the account by a report from a French officer who was present.

Sir Samuel Hood says, “After completing our water at Syracuse, in
Sicily, we sailed from thence on the 24th of July, and arrived a second
time off Alexandria, on the 31st, where we found many more ships than
were there before; amongst which were six with pendants, and appearing
large, so that we were convinced the French fleet had been there. I
immediately kept well to the eastward of the Admiral, to see if I could
discover the enemy at Bequir (Aboukir).

“About one o’clock the man at the mast-head called down, and said he
saw a ship, and in a few minutes after announced a fleet, at anchor.
I sent a glass up, and eighteen large ships were clearly ascertained,
thirteen or fourteen of which appeared to be of the line; which I made
known by signal to the Admiral, who instantly pressed sail up, and
made the signal to prepare for battle. The wind being to the N. N. W.
and sometimes more northerly, we were obliged to haul to the wind. The
Alexander and Swiftsure, which were to leeward, were called in, and the
Culloden ordered to cast off the prize which she had in tow, as she was
somewhat astern.

“As we advanced towards the enemy we plainly made out 13
sail-of-the-line, 4 frigates, with several small armed vessels, all at
anchor in the road of Bequir, or Aboukir, very close in, and in order
of battle. The Admiral then made the signal to anchor, and for battle,
and to attack the _van_ and _centre_ of the enemy; and soon after for
the line ahead, as most convenient.”

“As we got pretty nearly abreast of the shoal at the entrance, being
within hail of the Admiral, he asked me if I thought we were far enough
to the eastward to bear up clear of the shoal. I told him I was in
eleven fathoms; that I had no chart of the bay, but if he would allow
me, would bear up and sound with the lead, to which I would be very
attentive, and carry him as close as I could with safety. He said he
would be much obliged to me. I immediately bore away, rounded the
shoal, the Goliath keeping upon my lee bow, until I found we were
advancing too far from the Admiral, and then shortened sail, and soon
found the Admiral was waiting to speak to a boat.

“Soon after he made the signal to proceed, the Goliath leading, and as
we approached the enemy shortened sail gradually, the Admiral allowing
the Orion and others to pass ahead of the Vanguard.

“The van-ship of the enemy being in five fathoms, I expected the
Goliath and Zealous to stick fast on the shoal every moment, and did
not imagine we should attempt to pass within her, as the van, with
mortars, etc., from the island, fired regularly upon us.

“Captain Foley intended anchoring abreast of the van-ship, but his
sheet anchor, the cable being out of the stern port, not dropping the
moment he wished it, he brought up abreast of the second ship, having
given the first one his fire. I saw immediately he had failed of his
intention; cut away the Zealous’ sheet anchor, and came to in the exact
situation Captain Foley meant to have taken.

“The enemy’s van-ship having her bow toward the Zealous (which had
received very little damage, notwithstanding we received the fire
of the whole van, island, etc., as we came in), I directed a heavy
discharge into her bow within musket-shot, a little after six. Her
foremast went by the board in a few minutes, just as the sun was
closing with the horizon; upon which the squadron gave three cheers, it
happening before the next ship astern of me had fired a shot, and only
the Goliath and Zealous had been engaged, and in ten minutes more her
main and mizzen masts went (at this moment also went the main-mast of
the second ship, closely engaged by the Goliath and Audacious); but I
could not get her to strike for three hours after, although I hailed
her several times, seeing she was totally cut up, and only firing a
stern chase, at intervals, at the Goliath and Audacious.

“At last, being tired of killing men in this way, I sent a lieutenant
on board, who was allowed, as I had instructed him, to hoist a light
and haul it down, as a sign of her submission. From the time her
foremast went, the men had been driven from her upper decks by our
canister-shot and musketry, and I assure your Lordship that, _from her
bow to the gangway, the ports on her main deck were entirely in one_;
and the gunwale in that part entirely cut away, which caused two of her
main deck beams to fall upon her guns, and she is so terribly mauled
that we cannot move her without great detention and expense, so that
I imagine the Admiral will destroy her. In doing this execution I am
happy to say that the Zealous had only seven men wounded and not one
killed.

“The Bellerophon, unfortunately alongside the Orient, was in two hours
totally dismasted, and, in consequence, cut her cable and went off
before the ship took fire; but she was most gallantly replaced by the
Alexander and Swiftsure, our worthy friends. She (the gallant Sir
Samuel means L’Orient, but he does not say so) soon after took fire and
blew up.

“The Alexander and Swiftsure, having been sent to look into Alexandria,
was the cause of their being so late in the action. Poor Trowbridge,
in trying to make the shortest way to the enemy, being too far astern,
struck upon a reef; his ship is since got off with the loss of her
rudder and some damage to her bottom, so that he had no share in the
glorious victory. I believe, had not the Culloden struck, the Alexander
and Swiftsure, in the dark, would probably have got into her situation,
so that the accident may be fortunate, as she was a buoy to them.

“On the blowing up of L’Orient a part of the wreck fell on board of,
and set fire to the jib and fore-top-mast-stay-sail of, the Alexander,
but the great exertion of her officers and people soon got it under,
with the loss of some men. Captain Westcott was killed by a musket-ball
early in the action, but his loss was not felt, as the first
lieutenant, Cuthbert, fought the Majestic most gallantly during the
remainder of the action. The Bellerophon and that ship have suffered
much. In the morning, the Theseus, Goliath, Audacious and Zealous were
ordered into the rear, having sustained but little damage; but as I
was going down, the Admiral made my signal to chase the Diane frigate,
which was under sail and attempting to escape. She, however, returned
and closed with the ships of the enemy that had not submitted, and I
was called in and ordered to go to the assistance of the Bellerophon,
who lay at anchor on the other side of the bay; but in going to her,
I perceived the Guillaume Tell, of 80 guns, and the Généreux, of 74,
the Diane and Justice, of 40, pressing to make their escape, being the
only ships not disabled, and immediately directed the Zealous to be
kept close upon the wind, in the hope I should be able to bring them
to action and disable them, so as to allow assistance to come to me,
or so far cripple them as to prevent their working out of the bay. I
weathered them within musket-shot and obliged them to keep away to
avoid being raked; and although I did them a great deal of damage, they
were so well prepared as to cut away every brace and bowline, with
topmast and standing rigging. I meant to have boarded the rear frigate,
but could not get the ship round for a short space of time, and whilst
I was trying to do it, I was called in by signal, seeing I should get
disabled, without having it in my power to stop so superior a force.
The Admiral was very handsome in his acknowledgments for my zealous
attempt” (we suppose the gallant Sir Samuel intended no pun here, but
he made a very good one), “as well as for my gallant conduct. I told
him I only did my duty, and although the ship was very much cut in her
sails and rigging, having forty cannon-shot through her main-sail, I
had lost but one man killed and none materially wounded.

“The Audacious was sent to the Bellerophon in my room, and I am now
quite to rights. Ben Hallowell has written to your Lordship, so has our
brave Admiral, who, I am sorry to say, is again wounded, but is doing
well; the wound is in his head, not dangerous, but very troublesome.
Some of our ships have suffered much. Your Lordship, as well as the
whole world, will believe and think this the most glorious victory that
ever was gained, and it will certainly prove the ruin of the French
army.

“A courier has been taken, charged with despatches from Bonaparte and
the other Generals, for France. * *

“Amongst the French letters * * is one from young Beauharnais, B’s
step-son, who is with him, to his mother; in which he says Bonaparte
is very much distressed, owing to some disputes with Tallien and
others, and particularly with Berthier, which he did not expect. These
are favorable events, and will make our victory the more important.”

To give an idea of the important events we have been speaking of from
the point of view of the losing side, we give an account of the action
written by the Adjutant of the French fleet, while a prisoner on board
the Alexander.

Beginning with the advance of the English fleet, he says, “The Alert
then began to put the Admiral’s orders into execution, namely, to stand
towards the enemy until nearly within gunshot, and then to manœuvre and
endeavor to draw them towards the outer shoal, lying off the island;
but the English Admiral no doubt had experienced pilots on board, as he
did not pay any attention to the brig’s track, but allowed her to go
away, hauling well round all danger.

“At five o’clock the enemy came to the wind in succession; the manœuvre
convinced us that they intended attacking us that evening. The Admiral
got the top-gallant yards across, but soon after made the signal that
he intended engaging the enemy at anchor; convinced, no doubt, that he
had not seamen enough to engage under sail. * * * *

“After this signal each ship ought to have sent a stream cable to the
ship astern of her, and to have made a hawser fast to the cable, about
twenty fathoms in the water, and passed to the bow on the opposite side
to that expected to be engaged, as a spring. This was not generally
executed. Orders were then given to let go another bower anchor, and
the broadsides of the ships were brought to bear upon the enemy, having
the ships’ heads S. east from the Island Bequir, forming a line about
1300 fathoms, northwest and southeast, each with an anchor out S. S.
east. * * * *

“All the (French) van were attacked on both sides by the enemy, who
ranged close along our line; they had each an anchor out astern, which
facilitated their motions and enabled them to place themselves in a
most advantageous position. * * * *

“At nine o’clock the ships in the van slackened their fire, and soon
after it totally ceased, and with infinite sorrow we supposed they
had surrendered. They were dismasted soon after the action began, and
so damaged, it is to be presumed, they could not hold out against an
enemy so superior by an advantageous position, in placing several ships
against one. * * * *

“At ten o’clock the main and mizzen masts of the ship (on board of
which the officer who writes the account was--the flag-ship of Admiral
Blanquet) were lost, and all the guns on the main deck were dismounted.
At half-past ten this ship had to cut her cables to avoid the fire of
her consort, L’Orient. The English ship that was on L’Orient’s port
quarter, as soon as she had done firing upon her, brought her broadside
to bear upon the Tonnant’s bow, and kept up a very heavy raking fire.

“The Mercure and Heureux conceived that they ought likewise to cut
their cables; and this manœuvre created so much confusion amongst
the rear ships that they fired into each other, and did considerable
damage; the Tonnant anchored ahead of the Guillaume Tell; the Généreux
and Timoléon got ashore, etc. * * * *

“The Adjutant General, Montard, although badly wounded, swam to the
ship nearest L’Orient, which proved to be English. Commodore Casa
Bianca and his son, only ten years of age, who during the action gave
proofs of bravery and intelligence far beyond his age, were not so
fortunate. They were in the water, upon the wreck of the Orient’s
masts, neither being able to swim, and seeking each other, until the
ship blew up and put an end to their hopes and fears.

“The explosion was dreadful, and spread fire to a considerable
distance. The decks of the Franklin were covered with red-hot pitch,
oakum, rope, and pieces of timber, and she was on fire for the fourth
time, but luckily got it under.

“Immediately after the tremendous explosion the action everywhere
ceased, and was succeeded by a most profound silence. * * * * It was a
quarter of an hour before the ships’ crews recovered from the stupor
they were thrown into.

“Towards eleven o’clock the Franklin, anxious to preserve the trust
confided to her, re-commenced the action with a few of the lower-deck
guns; all the rest were dismounted. Two-thirds of the ship’s company
were killed, and those who remained most fatigued. She was surrounded
by the enemy’s ships, who mowed down the men at every broadside.
At half-past eleven, having only three lower-deck guns which could
defend the honor of the flag, it became necessary to put an end to
so disproportionate a struggle, and Citizen Martinel, _Capitaine de
Frégate_, ordered the colors to be struck.”

* * * * *

Of the French officers in command at the Nile, one Admiral and two
Captains were killed, and Rear-Admiral Blanquet and seven Captains were
wounded. They were all taken on board the Vanguard, and hospitably
entertained by Nelson.

The following anecdote of them is said to be true. While on the passage
to Naples, in the Vanguard, they were, as usual, dining with Nelson.
One of the French captains had lost his nose, another an eye, and
another most of his teeth, by a musket ball. During the dinner, Nelson,
half blind from his wound, and not thinking what he was about, offered
the latter a case of toothpicks, and, on discovering his error, became
excessively confused, and in his confusion handed his snuff-box to the
captain on his right, _who had lost his nose_.

LEANDER AND GÉNÉREUX. 16TH AUGUST, A.D. 1798.

In connection with the Battle of the Nile, it may be interesting to
give some account of an action between single ships which closely
followed it, in which Admiral Nelson’s dispatches describing his
victory were captured by one of the two French line-of-battle ships
which escaped from Aboukir Bay.

It will be remembered that the Généreux and Guillaume Tell, with two
frigates, made sail and escaped, on August 2d.

On the 5th the Leander, 50, Captain Thompson, was despatched, with
Captain Berry, of Admiral Nelson’s flag-ship, to convey to Earl St.
Vincent the report of the great action.

The Leander, making the best of her way to the westward, was, at
daybreak on the 18th of August, within a few miles of the Goza di
Candia. As the sun rose a large sail was discovered in the south,
evidently a ship-of-the-line, and standing directly for the Leander,
which latter ship was becalmed, while the stranger was bringing up
a fine breeze from the southward. The Leander being some eighty men
short of her complement, and having on board several who were wounded
in the late action, Captain Thompson very properly took every means
to avoid a contest with a ship so superior in size and force. But the
inferiority in sailing of the Leander rendered an action inevitable;
and it was only left him to steer such a course as would enable her to
receive her powerful antagonist to the best advantage.

The line-of-battle ship soon turned out to be French, and no other
than the Généreux. She still had the breeze to herself, and came down
within distant shot, when she hoisted Neapolitan colors. These she
soon changed for Turkish, but had not at all deceived the English
officers as to her nationality. About nine o’clock she ranged up on
the Leander’s weather quarter, within half gunshot. The English ship
at once hauled up until her broadside would bear, and then opened a
vigorous fire, which was returned by the Généreux. The ships contrived
to near each other, keeping up a constant and heavy fire, until
half-past ten, when it was evident the Généreux intended to lay her
opponent on board. The Leander’s sails and rigging were so much cut
up, and the wind was so light, that she could not avoid the shock, and
the French ship struck her on the port bow, and, dropping alongside,
continued there for some time. The French crew were, however, prevented
from boarding by the musketry fire of the Leander’s few marines, upon
her poop, and the small-arm men on the quarter-deck. They made several
attempts, but were each time beaten off, with loss.

Meanwhile the great guns of both ships, that would bear, were firing
most actively, and the action was very severe. Presently, an increase
of breeze occurring, the Leander took advantage of it to disengage
herself, and, being ably handled, was able to pass under her enemy’s
stern, at but a few yards distance, while she deliberately raked her
with every broadside gun. Soon after this the breeze entirely died
away, and the sea became as smooth as glass; but the cannonade between
the two ships continued, with unabated fury, until half-past three
in the afternoon. A light breeze then sprang up, and the Généreux
had passed the Leander’s bows, and stationed herself on the latter’s
starboard side. Unfortunately, a great wreck of spars and rigging had
fallen on that side of the Leander, and disabled her guns. This checked
the English ship’s fire, and the French now hailed to know if she had
surrendered. The Leander was now totally unmanageable, having only the
shattered remains of her fore and main masts standing, while her hull
was cut to pieces, and her decks covered with the killed and wounded.
The Généreux, on the other hand, having only lost her mizzen-top-mast,
was about to take up a position across her opponent’s stern, where
she could finish her work by raking her with deadly effect, without
a possibility of reply. In this condition she had no choice but
surrender, and the Généreux, took possession of her hard-won prize.

In this six hours’ close and bloody fight the Leander had thirty-five
killed, and fifty-seven wounded, a full third of all on board. The loss
of the Généreux was severe. She had a crew of seven hundred, and lost
about one hundred killed, and one hundred and eighty-eight wounded.
This defence of a fifty-gun ship against a seventy-four is almost
unparalleled.

[Illustration: CAPTURE OF ADMIRAL NELSON’S DESPATCHES.]

Captain Le Joille, the commander of the French ship, was not, if we may
believe the English accounts, a very good specimen of a French naval
officer, even of those peculiar times, when rudeness was considered the
best proof of true republicanism. Captain Thompson and his officers
were allowed to be plundered, as soon as they arrived on board the
Généreux, of every article they possessed, hardly leaving the
clothes which they wore. In vain they expostulated with the French
Captain, reminding him of the very different treatment experienced by
the French officers taken prisoners at the battle of the Nile. With
great _nonchalance_ he answered, “I am sorry, but to tell the truth,
our fellows are great hands at pillage.” Captain Berry, the bearer of
dispatches, who was a passenger in the Leander, was plundered of a pair
of pistols which he valued. The man who had taken them was produced,
when the French Captain himself took the pistols, telling Berry that
he would give him a pair of French pistols when he was released, which
he never did. This incident is related by Sir Edward Berry himself, in
a letter. In fact, the French behaved very much like Barbary corsairs,
and even took the instruments of the surgeon of the Leander, before
he had performed the necessary operations. Captain Thompson’s severe
wounds nearly proved fatal, from their preventing the surgeon from
attending to them. When the Leander arrived at Corfu, where she was
taken, the French there treated the English very badly, and some of
them nearly perished of privation. Had Captain Thompson fallen into
the hands of Captain Bergeret, or many other French officers who could
be named, his obstinate and noble defence would have secured him the
respect and esteem of his captors.

Bergeret was of a very different type of French officer. He was, during
this war, a prisoner in England, and was given his parole, to go to
France, and endeavor to effect an exchange between himself and the
celebrated Sir Sidney Smith, then a prisoner in Paris. Failing in his
object, he promptly returned to his imprisonment in England. Sir Sidney
had, in the meantime, made his escape; and the British government, with
a due sense of Bergeret’s conduct, restored his liberty, without any
restrictions.

It is a pity that such a man as Le Joille should have been in command
of one of the finest 74s in the French navy.

When Captain Thompson’s wounds healed, and he at length reached his
native country, he received not only an honorable acquittal from the
court held upon the loss of his ship, but also the honor of knighthood,
for the defence which he had made against so superior a force.

Another striking incident connected with the battle of the Nile, and we
shall have done with that action.

Just a month after the battle, while the squadron under Captain Hood,
of the Zealous, which had been left off Alexandria, by Nelson, was
cruising close in with that place, a cutter made her appearance,
standing towards the land. The Swiftsure and the Emerald frigate fired
several shots at her, but the cutter would not bring to, and at length
ran aground a little to the westward of the Marabout tower. The English
boats were at once despatched to bring her off; but in the meantime the
crew of the cutter had made good their landing, and the vessel herself
was shortly afterwards beaten to pieces by the high surf. The shore, at
this time, presented nothing but barren, uncultivated sands as far as
the eye could reach; but soon several Arabs were seen advancing, some
on horseback and some on foot. The French, who had quitted the cutter,
now perceived their mistake; but, for nearly the whole of them, it was
too late. The Arabs were upon them.

The British boats pulled for the shore, in hopes of saving their
unfortunate enemies, but the breakers were too heavy to effect a
landing in safety. A midshipman of the Emerald, Mr. Francis Fane (who
afterwards rose high in the service), with a high sense of humanity,
threw himself into the water, and swam through the surf to the shore,
pushing before him an empty boat’s breaker, or small cask, to which a
line had been made fast. By this means Citizen Gardon, the commanding
officer of the French cutter, and four of his men, were saved. The
cutter was the Anémone, of four guns and sixty men, six days from
Malta, and originally from Toulon, having on board General Carmin and
Captain Vallette, aide-de-camp to General Bonaparte; also a courier,
with despatches, and a small detachment of soldiers.

The General, perceiving no possibility of escape from the English,
had ordered Captain Gardon to run the cutter on shore. The sailor
represented to the soldier the danger to his vessel and those on board,
from the high surf, and particularly to all who should succeed in
landing, from the hordes of wild Arabs who infested that coast.

The General said he would cut his way through them, to Alexandria,
which was not much more than ten miles off. No sooner, however, did
the French land, than they perceived the Bedouins, who, up to that
time, had concealed themselves behind the numerous sand hills in the
neighborhood.

Terror and dismay now seized upon the General and the unfortunate
victims of his rash resolve; and their enemy, the British, viewed their
probable fate with commiseration, for the Arabs never spared any French
who fell into their hands. Although the crew of the cutter, by refusing
to surrender, and by firing upon the British boats long after all hopes
of escape were at an end, had brought the disaster on themselves, still
the English could not help mourning their sad fate.

What followed was a melancholy spectacle. The French officers and
men were seized and stripped, and many of them murdered at once, in
cold blood, as they made no resistance on being pillaged. An Arab, on
horseback, unslung a carbine, and presented it at the General, in full
sight of the boats. The General and the aide-de-camp appeared to be on
their knees, begging for mercy. The Arab drew the trigger but the piece
missed fire, and the man renewed the priming, very deliberately, and
again fired at the General. He missed him, but shot the aide-de-camp,
in his rear, and then he drew a pistol and shot the General, who
instantly fell.

The French courier endeavored to escape, but he was pursued and killed,
and the Arab who got possession of his despatches at once rode off with
them. It was learned, afterwards, that they were restored to the French
for a large sum of money.

On the appearance of a troop of French cavalry, from Alexandria,
the Arabs retired to the desert, taking with them their surviving
prisoners, while the British boats, with their five rescued prisoners,
returned to the squadron.

ACTION BETWEEN THE AMBUSCADE AND BAYONNAISE. A.D. 1798.

Single ship actions are often as decisive as those between fleets;
and they are, as a rule, even more characteristic and interesting.
Of course, we mean by _decisive_ that they have often affected, for
good or evil, the _morale_ of nations, thereby encouraging one and
depressing the other, and thus in no small degree affecting the
progress of a war.

The frigate actions of our last war with Great Britain were very
pre-eminently of this nature, and some of them will, in due time, be
given.

The action of the Ambuscade and Bayonnaise has always been a fruitful
source of discussion, as well as of lively contradiction, between
the French and English naval writers, the latter being as much
depressed by allusions to it as the French are elated. Where so much
discussion and rejoinder have taken place in regard to the collision
of a comparatively insignificant force, we may expect to find many
contradictory statements.

In what follows we shall give the account of the beaten side, the
British, in the main points, premising, of course, that they would make
the best of a poor story. The _facts_ of the capture are not disputed,
and are given in about the same terms by both sides. It is the manner
of telling which differs.

On December 5th, 1798, the British 32-gun frigate Ambuscade, Captain
Jenkins, sailed from Portsmouth (to which port she had escorted a
prize, and on board the latter had left a few of her men as a prize
crew), for a cruise on the French coast. Not long after sailing she
made prizes of a brig and a lugger, and received on board from the
two vessels some thirty prisoners, while she sent to the prizes her
Second Lieutenant and a sufficient number of men to man them. Her Third
Lieutenant was at this time ill in his bed, and the Ambuscade was
reduced in her complement, by the sending of prize crews, from 212 to
190. Of this one hundred and ninety the English accounts claim that a
large number were boys. It is quite likely that she had many landsmen
and boys, as most English ships had at that time, but that she had such
a proportion of boys as to effect her efficiency is not very likely.
She was not a school-ship or a training-ship, but an active 32, engaged
in winter cruising on a notoriously rough station, and doing her best
to cripple the enemy by taking and sending in prizes.

On the morning of December 14th, while lying to off the mouth of the
Garonne, and momentarily expecting to be joined by the 32-gun frigate
Stag, a sail was made out, to seaward, standing in. The stranger was
directly end-on to the Ambuscade, and all on board the latter ship seem
to have taken it for granted it was her consort, the Stag, because
the latter was expected at that time. December mornings are not apt
to be clear and fine in the Bay of Biscay, and the new comer was some
distance off. They could see but little of her hull, from her position,
neither could they make out any colors, for the same reason.

This being the state of affairs, on an enemy’s coast, in time of
active war, the officers and men of the Ambuscade left her hove to,
and went unconcernedly to breakfast, with only a few hands on deck
to observe the approach of the strange sail, which came rolling down
at her leisure. Before nine o’clock she was within gunshot, and then
she suddenly hauled by the wind, and made all sail, apparently to
escape. She was now seen to be French, and the Ambuscade’s hands were
turned up, and a press of sail at once made in chase of what proved to
be the French 24-gun corvette, the Bayonnaise, commanded by Captain
Richer, and coming from Cayenne, with some 30 troops and an officer as
passengers; these raising the number on board to between 240 and 250
men.

The English ship seems to have been faster than her opponent, for
she soon placed herself within comfortable firing distance, when
she hoisted her colors, and the Bayonnaise did the same. The French
ship then shortened sail, and the action began; the interchange of
broadsides continuing for about an hour, the English account stating
that, at the end of that time, the Bayonnaise was suffering very
much. It is certain that the Ambuscade was suffering, for one of her
main-deck twelve-pounders, just abreast of her gangway, had burst. Now
James, and other English naval historians scout the idea that such an
accident should have any effect upon an action, when it relates to
so dauntless a spirit as that of Commodore Rodgers, in command of an
American frigate, outnumbered by an English squadron. But in this case
it is _their_ ox which is gored, and they make the most of it, even
going so far as to trace the capture of the English ship to that cause.
By this unfortunate accident her gangway was knocked away, the boats
on the boom were stove, and other damage done; while eleven men were
wounded.

It is true that the bravest and best disciplined ship’s company has its
ardor dampened by an occurrence of the kind, as they feel that the next
gun may, at any moment, in its turn sacrifice its crew. The good fame
of a gun is as important as that of a woman, and the bursting of a gun
during an engagement is one of the most unfortunate accidents which
can occur to any ship, be the destruction great or small. In addition
to this, all the English naval historians combine in saying that the
Ambuscade had an exceptionally bad crew; and James devotes as much
space to proving this, and also that this 24-gun corvette ought not
to have taken an English ship of 32 guns, as he does to most general
actions. The accident to the gun seems to have caused so much confusion
on board the English ship that the French corvette made sail to take
advantage of it, and make her escape from a disagreeable predicament.
This act on her part seems to have recalled the Ambuscade’s Captain
to a sense of his duty, and that ship soon overtook the Bayonnaise
again--coming up to leeward, to recommence the action--but at first,
owing to a press of sail, shooting a little too far ahead.

The Bayonnaise was, at this time, much damaged in hull, rigging and
spars, and had suffered a heavy loss in officers and men--among others,
her Captain and First Lieutenant--wounded. The commanding officer of
the troops who were passengers then suggested to the only sea-officer
left on deck the trial of boarding the English ship, which was so
much the more powerful in weight of metal. The plan was assented to,
the boarders called away, the corvette’s helm was put up, and she was
allowed to drop foul of the Ambuscade, carrying away with her bowsprit
the quarter-deck barricade, wheel, mizzen-rigging and mizzen-mast of
the English frigate. It is evident that the latter must have been in a
bad state to permit this to be done.

The Bayonnaise then swung round under the Ambuscade’s stern, but still
remaining foul of her, having caught the English ship’s rudder chain,
either by a grappling iron or by the fluke of an anchor, and the
French now, by a vigorous use of musketry, commanded completely the
quarter-deck of the Ambuscade.

The marines of the Ambuscade kept up a fire in return, but were
overpowered by the steady, close fire of the French soldiers, and in a
very short time the First Lieutenant was handed below, wounded in the
groin, when he almost immediately expired.

Almost at the same moment Captain Jenkins was shot in the thigh,
breaking the bone, and was necessarily removed from the deck, as was
the Lieutenant of Marines, from wounds in the thigh and shoulder.

Scarcely had these left the deck when the Master was shot through the
head, and instantly killed. The only surviving Lieutenant, who had left
his sick bed to take part in the defence, was now wounded in the head.

The gunner at this moment came on deck, and reported the ship on fire
below and abaft, which so alarmed the uninjured portion of the crew,
on account of the neighborhood of the magazine, that they left their
quarters on the gun-deck, and went below.

The fire was occasioned by some cartridges which had been carelessly
left upon the rudder head, and which, on the discharge of a gun through
the cabin window or stern port, into the bows of the Bayonnaise, had
exploded, badly wounding every man at the gun, besides blowing out
a part of the Ambuscade’s stern, and destroying the boat which was
hanging there.

In the height of all this confusion on board the Ambuscade the French
soldiers, who, throughout, had behaved splendidly, charged across the
bowsprit of their vessel, which formed a bridge to the quarter-deck
of the Ambuscade, now undefended, and, after a short struggle on the
main deck, found themselves in possession of the frigate. There is no
doubt that this result was most humiliating to a nation who had grown
to consider themselves irresistible by sea, when the odds were not too
great. The great advantage of the Ambuscade, her gun force, was not
made the most of; and although she was evidently the faster vessel, the
Frenchman, from superior tactics, was enabled to make his superiority
in musketeers tell. In fact, the whole story shows that the English
ship was sadly deficient in discipline and drill. It was immediately
given out that the majority of her crew “were the scum of the British
navy,” but the great trouble appears to have been with the captain
himself. This officer had been promoted to the command of the Ambuscade
from the Carnatic, 74, where he had been first lieutenant, and he had
brought with him from that ship a party of seamen whom he chose to call
the “gentlemen Carnatics,” and distinguishing those men whom he found
on board the frigate by the very opprobrious epithet of “blackguard
Ambuscades.” One can hardly speak calmly of the fact that such an idiot
as this was placed in such a responsible position; and, as he himself
had raised two parties in his ship, the only wonder is that she made
so good a defence. When Captain Jenkins and his surviving officers and
ship’s company were, some months later, exchanged, a court-martial was,
of course, held upon him, for the loss of the Ambuscade. The Captain
was suffering still from the effects of his dreadful wound, and he and
the rest were acquitted, in spite of the evidence showing that his
ship was in bad discipline, and that the action had been conducted
in a lubberly manner, on the part of the English, from first to last.
No questions appear to have been pressed as to why the Bayonnaise’s
character was not earlier ascertained, whereby confusion would have
been avoided in the opening of the engagement, and the Ambuscade might
have obtained the weather-gage, and kept her adversary from boarding;
while in that position, her superiority in metal should have told. It
was proved that the hammocks were not in the nettings, in spite of the
musketry being so much used, and other equally shameful points were
made manifest. Yet Jenkins was acquitted, and the sentence of the court
avoided even naming the ship by which he had been captured. The French
took their prize into Rochefort, and great were the rejoicings, not
without cause, for a French corvette had captured an English frigate.
Richer was promoted by the French Directory, over one grade, to that of
_Capitaine de Vaisseau_, and the crew properly rewarded. The gallant
officer in command of the troops, to whom so much of the credit of the
action is due, was killed on the Bayonnaise’s deck.

[Illustration]

SIR SIDNEY SMITH AND HIS SEAMEN AT ACRE. A.D. 1799.

In March, 1799, Commodore Sir William Sidney Smith, in command of the
English 74-gun ship, Tigre, then lying off Alexandria, was invested by
the British government with the rank of Minister Plenipotentiary to the
Sublime Porte.

In consequence of an express received from Achmed Djezzar, Governor of
Syria, with the information that Bonaparte had invaded that country,
and had carried Jaffa by storm, and that the French were also preparing
an expedition by sea, Sir Sidney sent off the Theseus, Captain Miller,
to Acre, as well as a small vessel to reconnoitre the Syrian coast and
rejoin the Theseus at Caïffa.

Acre was the next town and fortified place on the coast, north of
Jaffa, and was in a bay of the same name, the southern port of which
was the headland celebrated from very ancient times as Mount Carmel.
The bay is very much exposed to winds from every quarter but the east
and south, and at all times is a rough and uncertain anchorage. Just
within the southern cape of Carmel, where the Mount drops away and
the country becomes flat, is the town of Haïffa or Kaïffa, and beyond
that, at the turn of the bay, before one comes to Acre, is the mouth of
the river Kishon. This mouth, except when the river is in flood, is
obstructed by sand bars, and is generally to be forded, with care.

On the 13th of March the Theseus, a 74, arrived at Acre, and on the
15th the Tigre, Alliance and Marianne also anchored in that port; and
Sir Sidney Smith, finding that the Turks were disposed to defend the
place, used every exertion to put the walls in a state to resist an
attack. On the 17th the Theseus was sent to the southward, and Sir
Sidney, with the boats of the Tigre, proceeded to the anchorage of
Caïffa, under Mount Carmel. That evening, after dark, the advanced
guard of the French was discovered, mounted on asses and dromedaries,
and passing along the coast road, close to the seaside, and a launch,
with a 12-lb carronade, was sent to the mouth of the river, to defend
the ford.

At daybreak the next morning this launch opened a most unexpected fire
on the French column, and compelled it to change its route, so that
when they took the Nazareth road they became exposed to the attacks
of the Samaritan Arabs. The guns of the British ships preventing
the French from making an attack from the north, they invested Acre
on the northeast side, where the defences were much stronger. As no
artillery was used in replying to the British boats, it was evident
that the French had none with them. Expecting that a flotilla was to
bring artillery up to them, a lookout was kept, and, on the morning of
the 18th a French corvette and nine sail of gun vessels was seen from
the Tigre. They were promptly chased and the gun-boats taken, but the
corvette escaped. The prizes were full of battering cannon, ammunition
and siege stores, which they had brought from Damietta.

These guns, which had been intended for the destruction of Acre, were
now landed for its defence, and the gun-boats employed to harass their
late owners, and cut off supplies.

That same day an English boat expedition met with a disastrous repulse
in an attack upon four French transports, which had come into Caïffa
anchorage with supplies for the French army, losing heavily in officers
and men; and soon after all the English vessels were obliged to put to
sea, on account of bad weather, and were not able to return again until
the 6th of April.

In the meantime Bonaparte had been pushing the siege operations with
the energy peculiarly his own, and it seemed impossible for the Turkish
garrison and the English sailors to resist his determined approach.
During the absence of the British ships he had pushed his approaches
to the counter-scarp, and in the ditch at the northeast angle of the
town was mining the towers to widen a breach already made by his field
pieces. As much danger was apprehended from this approach, a sortie was
determined on, in which the English seamen and marines were to bear a
prominent part. They were to force their way into the mine while the
Turks attacked the enemy’s trenches on the right and left. The sortie
took place just before daylight, but the Turks rendered abortive the
attempt to surprise the enemy by their noise and impetuosity. The
English sailors, armed with pikes and cutlasses, succeeded in entering
the mine, and destroyed its supports, and partly filled it up. The
marines supported and protected them while doing this, and the party
was covered on its return by a cross fire from one of the ships. This
sortie much delayed Bonaparte’s operations; but, in the meantime,
Rear-Admiral Perrée of the French navy, who had been hovering about the
coast with a squadron, succeeded in landing supplies and some 18-lb
guns, at Jaffa, which were immediately brought up, overland. Napoleon
attached the utmost importance to the speedy capture of Acre, which was
necessary to the success of his plans, and he pushed the siege with
tremendous energy, and reckless disregard for the lives of his troops.
The garrison continued to make sorties, under cover of the boats of
the English squadron, but the 1st of May found the French successful
in establishing a breach, from the concentrated fire of twenty-three
pieces of artillery. They then made a desperate attempt to storm the
place.

The Theseus was moored on one side of the town, and the Tigre on the
other, while the gun-boats and launches flanked the enemy’s trenches.

Notwithstanding a tremendous fire from the shipping, and in the very
face of a heavy fire from the walls of the town, the French bravely
mounted to the assault; but, in spite of all their efforts, were
repulsed with great slaughter. Several English officers and seamen
were killed in this affair, and Colonel Philipeaux, a French Royalist
officer of engineers, serving with the English against Bonaparte, died
of excessive fatigue.

The French continued to batter in breach, and continued their attempts
to storm; in spite of which Sir Sidney Smith managed to construct
two ravelins, within musket shot of the besiegers. All this involved
the most extreme fatigue on the part of both the besiegers and the
besieged. Frequent sorties were made, which impeded the French in their
work; and on May 7th a reinforcement of two Turkish corvettes, and
twenty-five transports with troops, arrived.

Bonaparte determined to make one more effort to capture the place
before these troops could be landed. Although the British fire from
the vessels was kept up, Bonaparte had succeeded in throwing up
epaulements and traverses, with his great engineering ability, which
in a great degree protected his working parties from the naval party.
The pieces which annoyed him most were in the light-house tower, and in
the north ravelin, and two 68-pounders, mounted in native flat-bottomed
vessels and throwing shells. These were all manned by the English
seamen.

In spite of all this, Bonaparte gained ground, and having battered
down the northeast tower of the walls, the ruins formed a sort of
ladder, and at daylight on the 8th of May the French stormed again, and
succeeded in planting their colors on the outer angle of the tower.

Their position was sheltered by two traverses, which they had
constructed during the preceding night, composed of sand-bags and
bodies of the dead built in with them, and forming a wall so high that
only their bayonets could be seen above them.

In the meantime the reinforcement of Turkish troops, under Hassan Bey,
were being debarked, which only increased Bonaparte’s endeavors to get
possession of the place before they could be put in position.

It was a most critical moment, and Sir Sidney, to gain time, himself
led the British seamen, mostly armed with pikes, to the defence of the
breach. Here he found a few Turks, who were hurling huge stones down
upon the French. The latter, being reinforced, charged up, and the
fight became a hand-to-hand one.

[Illustration: SIEGE OF ACRE, 1799.]

According to the ancient custom of the Turks, Djezzar Pasha had been
sitting in his palace rewarding such as brought to him the heads of
his enemies; but when he heard that Sir Sidney was on the breach he
hastened there to persuade him to retire, saying that “if harm befell
his English friends all would be lost.” Hassan’s troops were now close
at hand, and Sir Sidney led up the Chifflic regiment, armed and
disciplined in the European style, and made a determined sally. They
were beaten back, however, by the desperate fighting of the French,
with great loss; but in doing so, the latter were obliged to expose
themselves, and suffered terribly from the flanking fire of the English
guns.

Napoleon had entered Syria with about fifteen thousand men, and many of
his best generals, but by this time his losses had been so great that
he feared he should be unsuccessful in his undertaking of seizing the
whole of that country, for which undertaking he had made such exertions
and sacrifices. But he was not the man to retire from any enterprise
before he had exhausted all his resources.

On the 9th and 10th he continued to batter the defences, day and night,
in preparation for one final, desperate effort. Every shot brought
down large pieces of the wall, which was less solid than the tower
they had been so long battering, and a new breach was effected, to
the southward of their first lodgment. Bonaparte was now distinctly
seen by the defenders most energetically directing operations from
an elevated mound called after Richard Cœur de Lion, addressing his
generals with great energy of gesture, and sending off aides-de-camp in
every direction. The night before he had himself inspected the breach
closely, rousing the enthusiasm of his veteran troops by the way in
which he exposed himself, at the very foot of the walls, to the hottest
fire. About noon he made dispositions for storming. Kleber’s grenadiers
were to lead, their chief, Venoux, saying, “If Saint Jean d’Acre is not
taken this evening you may be certain that Venoux is dead.” And he did,
indeed, die, that evening, at the breach.

Just before sunset a massive column of the French was seen advancing,
and it was suffered by the Turks to mount the breach, but, in the
Pasha’s garden, came upon a second and almost impregnable line of
defence, erected by Philipeaux in view of just such an event. Here
the Turks rushed upon them in overwhelming numbers, and the advance
of the French were massacred almost to a man. The rest retreated
precipitately, leaving General Rambeaud dead, and carrying off General
Lannes, wounded. A reinforcement of English coming up, the officers
very nearly suffered the fate of the French advance, for many of the
newly arrived Turkish troops did not know the English uniform, and took
them for French. The fighting consequent upon this assault did not
terminate until the next day.

Kleber’s division had been ordered to the assault again, but were met
by a sortie, in which the besieged gained the third parallel of the
attack, and spiked some of the French guns, and Kleber, instead of
storming the fortress, was occupied in recovering their works, which
involved great loss on both sides. During the progress of the siege, a
dreadful accident occurred on board the English ship Theseus--seventy
large shells exploding on her poop--killing and wounding eighty-seven
of her officers and ship’s company. The ship herself was dreadfully
shattered.

After the failure of Kleber’s attack the French troops could not be
brought to mount the breach again. The plague, which had committed
such ravages among them at Jaffa, broke out again, probably from the
horribly putrid stench of the great number of unburied bodies, and
especially of those built into the epaulements and traverses, added to
fatigue and shortness of provisions; a flag of truce was sent in, to
propose a cessation of hostilities, to allow them to bury the dead.
This Djezzar would not permit. The flag had hardly performed its
duties and withdrawn, when a shower of shot and shell from the French
batteries announced the commencement of another attack, which was made
with fury and desperation. But the garrison was prepared, and the
French were once more driven back, with great slaughter. In the night
of the 20th of May the French raised the siege, and made a precipitate
retreat, leaving twenty-three pieces of battering cannon behind them.

Sir Sidney Smith remained at Acre until the middle of June, rendering
the Turks all assistance in once more placing the fortress in a state
of defence.

This celebrated siege lasted sixty-one days. The besiegers had marched
to the assault no less than eight times, while the besieged made eleven
desperate sallies. Bonaparte, in his reports to the French Directory,
gave many flimsy reasons for his want of success.

Speaking of it afterwards, at St. Helena, he attempted to put the whole
blame of his non-success upon the French naval officers who had failed
to engage and drive away Sir Sidney Smith and his squadron. He said
that if he had succeeded in his plans the whole face of the world would
have been changed. “Acre,” he said, “would have been taken; the French
army would have gone to Damascus and Aleppo; in the twinkling of an
eye they would have been on the Euphrates; the Syrian Christians would
have joined us; the Druses, the Armenians, would have united with us.”
Some one remarked, “We might have been reinforced to the number of one
hundred thousand men.” “Say six hundred thousand,” Bonaparte replied;
“who can calculate the amount? I would have reached Constantinople and
the Indies; I would have changed the face of the world!”

FOUDROYANT AND CONSORTS, IN ACTION WITH THE GUILLAUME TELL. 1800.

During the early part of the year 1800, a British squadron, composed of
the eighty-gun ship Foudroyant, Captain Sir Edward Berry (the same who
was captured in the Leander, after the battle of the Nile, as bearer
of despatches), and bearing the flag of Rear-Admiral Lord Nelson, the
74-gun ship Alexandria, Captain Ball, the 64-gun ship Lion, Captain
Dixon, and the 36-gun frigate Penelope, Captain Blackwood, with two
or three sloops and smaller vessels, was stationed off Malta, then
in French possession, to prevent succors from being thrown into that
island, and to watch the movements of the French ships which were in
that safe port.

Among the latter, lying in Valetta, was the French 80-gun ship
Guillaume Tell, Rear-Admiral Denis Décrès, and Captain Saunier.

The Guillaume Tell was one of the two French line-of-battle-ships which
had escaped from the battle of the Nile, and she had taken refuge at
Malta.

Décrès occupied so exalted a position, afterwards, that it will be
necessary, before beginning the account of a very remarkable battle, to
give some account of his life.

This very distinguished French naval officer was born in 1762, and died
in 1820. He entered the navy early, and won his first promotion under
Count De Grasse, in America, while he afterwards distinguished himself
in the frigate squadron which France sent to the East Indies to annoy
the English commerce. In 1793 he was a “_capitaine de vaisseau_,” but
was deprived of his rank by the Revolutionists, because he was a noble.
Escaping the guillotine, when thousands of others perished, he was
restored to his rank in the navy in 1795. In 1798 he attained the rank
of Rear-Admiral, and in that capacity was present at the capture of
Malta. He then served at the battle of the Nile, and came back to Malta
with the few French vessels that escaped. These were soon blockaded
by the English in the harbor of Valetta. Décrès, in conjunction with
General Vaubois, conducted the defence of Malta, which continued for
seventeen months.

In March, 1800, provisions fell short, and much sickness appeared
in the French garrison, and Décrès concluded to embark about twelve
hundred men on board the Guillaume Tell, and force the blockade.
The English frigate Penelope followed him, but was able to offer no
resistance. The next day Décrès fell in with more English ships, and
the celebrated engagement which we shall relate further on ensued.
Although conquered at last, Décrès received a sword of honor from
the First Consul, Bonaparte, for his conduct, and the English “Naval
Chronicle” says that this was the warmest resistance ever made by a
foreign man-of-war against a superior British force.

Upon his return from captivity in England, Décrès was successively
appointed Prefêt Maritime, Commandant of the Western Fleet, and
Minister of Marine. He continued to act in this capacity as long as the
French Empire lasted; and in it he showed great administrative ability.

During his administration the great works at Cherbourg were materially
advanced; as well as those at Nieuwe Dieppe and Flushing, while the
docks and construction yards of Antwerp were wholly created. He managed
to keep up, and even increase, the strength of the French navy, in
spite of their great losses; and he collected the great flotilla of
Boulogne, which circumstances rendered useless, however.

Napoleon, who made him, in succession, a Count, Grand Cross of the
Legion of Honor, and finally, a Duke, recalled him to his old position
during the Hundred Days; and when the Emperor finally fell, he was
retired by the Bourbon government.

Duke Décrès survived many bloody battles, to be at last assassinated by
his valet. This man, who had been robbing him for a long time, placed a
quantity of powder, with a slow match, under Décrès’ mattress. Stealing
into the Duke’s bedroom at night, he blew him up. The valet, in his
perturbation at what he had done, threw himself out of the window, and
was killed. His master died a few days after, aged 58 years.

And now to return to this celebrated action.

At eleven o’clock at night, on the 30th of March, 1800, the Guillaume
Tell, taking advantage of a strong southerly gale, and the darkness
that had succeeded the setting of the moon, weighed anchor and put to
sea.

About midnight the English frigate Penelope, which was on guard off the
harbor, discovered the French ship, under a press of sail, with the
wind on the starboard quarter. The Penelope at once made the necessary
signals to the other blockading ships, and then tacked, and stood after
the Tell. In half an hour she was close up with the chase, and luffed
up, and gave the Tell her whole broadside; receiving in return, only
the Tell’s chase guns.

The French ship, aware that if she brought to, she would soon have upon
her the whole of the English blockading ships, whose lights could be
already seen on the horizon, wisely kept her course to the northward.

The Penelope was faster than the Tell, and was commanded by an
experienced seaman, and she continued to follow her, and to
occasionally luff, and pour in a broadside, so that, just before
daybreak, the Guillaume Tell’s main and mizzen-top-masts, and her
main-yard came down. She was thus reduced, except her mizzen, to her
head-sails; and these were greatly damaged by the Penelope’s shot. She
had also lost many men from the English frigate’s raking shots.

The Penelope skillfully avoided exposing herself to a broadside from so
powerful a ship, and had the good fortune to escape much damage to her
sails and rigging. She had lost her master, killed, and a few wounded.

About five in the morning the Lion, 64, after pressing sail, arrived
up. Steering between the Penelope and the crippled Guillaume Tell,
and so near to the latter that the yard-arms of the two ships barely
passed clear, the Lion ranged up on the port side of her opponent,
and poured in a destructive double-shotted broadside. The Lion then
luffed up across the bow of the Guillaume Tell, the jib-boom of the
latter passing between the main and mizzen shrouds of the former. Of
course, with an inferior complement of men, the Lion did not wish to
be boarded, and, fortunately for her, the Tell’s jib-boom soon carried
away, leaving the Lion inaccessible to boarders, but in an excellent
position across the Guillaume Tell’s bows. Here the Lion, aided by the
Penelope kept up a heavy fire, for about half an hour, when the Tell
had so damaged the Lion that she was forced to drop astern; still
firing, however, as did the Penelope, whenever an opportunity offered.

At six o’clock the Foudroyant came up. Lord Nelson was not on board,
having been left, sick, at Palermo; and Captain Dixon, of the Lion, was
the senior officer to Captain Sir Edward Perry, of the Foudroyant. The
latter ship, under a crowd of sail, ranged up so close to the Guillaume
Tell that her spare anchor just cleared the Tell’s mizzen-chains, and
called to her to strike; accompanying the summons by a treble-shotted
broadside. The only answer of the French ship was a similar broadside,
which cut away a good deal of the Foudroyant’s rigging. The latter,
having so much sail set, necessarily shot ahead, and did not again
get alongside the Tell for several minutes. Then the two large ships
engaged, and the Guillaume Tell’s second broadside brought down many of
the English ship’s spars, and cut her sails to pieces. She then dropped
alongside the Tell, still firing occasionally; as did the Lion, on the
Tell’s port side, and the Penelope, on her port quarter. Under this
unremitting and galling fire the gallant French ship’s main and mizzen
masts came down; and the Foudroyant, having cleared away the wreck of
her fallen spars, and to some extent refitted her rigging, again closed
with the Guillaume Tell, and after a few broadsides, was nearly on
board her. At eight o’clock the foremast of the Tell fell, and she was
totally dismasted. At a few minutes after eight the gallant Frenchman
was rolling, an unmanageable hulk, with the wreck of her masts
disabling her port guns, and the violent rolling, in her dismasted
state, requiring the lower deck ports, on both sides, to be closed.

The Foudroyant was on one quarter, the Lion on the other, and the
Penelope close ahead. Under these circumstances the Guillaume Tell
struck her colors.

Both the Foudroyant, 80, and the Lion, 64, were in too disabled a
state to be able to take possession of the French 80-gun ship. That
duty devolved upon the Penelope. The other vessels had enough to do to
take care of themselves. Some English brig sloops and a bomb-vessel
witnessed this singular engagement, but appear to have taken no part in
it.

A more heroic defence than that of the Guillaume Tell is not be found
in the record of naval actions; and the defeat in this case was more
honorable than half the single ship victories which have been so
loudly praised. To the Penelope belongs the special credit, next to
the Guillaume Tell herself. Next to the frigate, credit is due to the
Lion. It was, of course, the arrival of the Foudroyant which turned
the scale. Had that ship, single handed, and so nearly matched, met
the Tell, the contest would have been between two of the most powerful
ships that had ever so met, and the chances are that the Guillaume
Tell, so gallantly manned, and so ably commanded, would have come off
the conqueror. This is conceded by all the English accounts.

All of the vessels engaged, except the Penelope, were so damaged that
it was with difficulty they reached port; the Penelope towing the prize
into Syracuse.

The Guillaume Tell was eventually taken to England, and received into
the Royal Navy under the name of Malta, and she long remained one of
the finest ships in the English service.

NAVAL OPERATIONS AT ABOUKIR BAY, AND CAPTURE OF ALEXANDRIA. A.D. 1801.

It being determined to effect the expulsion of the French from Egypt,
a joint expedition was agreed upon between England and Turkey. On
March 2d, 1801, the English part of the expedition anchored in the
bay of Aboukir, which had already been the scene of two momentous
battles within a very short time. The Turkish part of the expedition
did not make its appearance, having been dispersed by bad weather.
The English force consisted of seven sail-of-the-line, and several
frigates and sloops, under the command of Admiral Lord Keith, in the
Foudroyant, 80. These escorted a large number of disarmed men-of-war
and transports, which conveyed about 17,000 English troops, under Sir
Ralph Abercrombie. The whole day of arrival was taken up in anchoring
this numerous fleet, and then a succession of high northerly gales,
with a heavy surf, prevented the landing of the troops until the 8th
of March. This gave the French time to muster all the force which
they could spare to oppose the landing. This is stated in the British
account to have been about 3000, while the French put it down at not
more than 1200 men. There is every probability, however, that the
French left out of their estimate the cavalry and artillery, which
were certainly engaged in disputing the English landing. The
French troops were under the command of General Friant, who, with
great judgment, had stationed a part of his men and several pieces of
artillery on an almost inaccessible hill that commanded the whole place
of disembarkation, while other parties, with field pieces and mortars,
occupied excellent positions afforded by the neighboring ground.

In good season, on the morning of the 8th, the boats of the fleet
formed in line abreast, in the same order in which the troops,
consisting of the first division of about six thousand men, were to
form when landed. They then pulled rapidly towards the beach, which
extends between the Castle or Fort of Aboukir and the river Sed. The
whole of the landing arrangements were in charge of Captain Cochrane,
of the Ajax; and the boats were partially protected, in their landing,
by the guns of armed cutters, gun-boats, and launches, as well as by
three sloops and two bomb-vessels.

[Illustration: CAPTURE OF ALEXANDRIA, 1801.]

As soon as the boats got near the shore a very sharp and steady fire
of grape and musketry was opened upon them from behind the sand hills,
while Aboukir fort, on the right, kept up a very galling fire of heavy
shot and shell. But the boats pushed on, without check or confusion,
the beach was gained, and a footing on dry land obtained. They then
formed and advanced, and soon obtained possession of all the points
from which the French were annoying them. The boats then returned,
without delay, for the second division; and before night the whole
army, with sufficient stores for present wants, was safely landed. Few
except naval men can appreciate the difficulties to be encountered
in such an operation as this, especially when the landing is upon an
open coast, and such an undertaking, accomplished quickly and in good
order, and without loss, is always considered extremely creditable.

A detachment of 1000 seamen, under Captain Sir Sidney Smith, formed
part of the landing force. Their duty was to drag the cannon up
the sand hills, a service which they performed in a manner which
called forth the applause of the army, and in which they suffered
considerably. The French, when driven from the hill, left behind them
seven pieces of artillery and a considerable number of horses.

On the 12th the British army moved forward, and came in sight of the
French position, which was an advantageous one, along the ridge, their
left resting upon the sea and their right upon the canal of Alexandria,
better known to us, in late operations there, as the Mahmoudieh canal.

The French had received reinforcements, under General Lanusse, and
numbered about 7000. The following day a battle was fought, in which
the seamen, under Sir Sidney Smith, and the marines of the fleet, under
Colonel Smith, bore a full share. At the termination of the action
the English took up a position within three miles of Alexandria. This
movement caused the capitulation of Aboukir castle.

On March 21st occurred the decisive battle of the campaign. The French
made a desperate attack upon the English lines, about an hour before
daylight, but, after a bloody and desperate contest against greatly
superior numbers, were forced to retire. The British sustained a very
heavy loss, however, and the Commanding General, Sir Ralph Abercrombie,
was mortally wounded, living only a few days. In this battle the seamen
again participated, and Sir Sidney Smith was among the wounded.

Alexandria was now completely shut in; and no very important event took
place until August 16th, when a naval force under Sir Sidney Smith made
a demonstration of attack upon the city, and the French set fire to
their flotilla, lying in the harbor. A week after this the fortified
castle of Marabout, which protects the entrance to the western harbor
of Alexandria, surrendered to a combined naval and military attack.
This fort is about eight miles west of the city, and is one of those
about which we heard so much in the late bombardment by the British
iron-clads. On the nearer approach of the combined forces the garrison
of Alexandria sank several vessels to block up the channel, and brought
their few remaining ships nearer to the town. But these were expiring
efforts. On the 27th of August General Menou sent to Lieutenant-General
Hutchinson, who had succeeded Abercrombie, to request a three days’
armistice. This was granted, and on September 2d, Alexandria and its
garrison capitulated.

Recent events have made these operations once more interesting. General
Hutchinson (afterwards Lord Donoughmore) was, like Sir Garnet Wolseley,
an Irishman, and their careers are, in many respects, alike.

Hutchinson entered the English army in 1774, as a cornet of dragoons,
and in nine years rose to the rank of colonel. A Major-General in 1796,
he became second in command in Egypt in 1801, as a Lieutenant-General,
and succeeded to the command on Abercrombie’s death. He advanced, like
Wolseley, as far as Cairo, when a capitulation took place, and the war
ended.

THE CUTTING OUT OF THE CHEVRETTE. JULY, A. D. 1801.

The cutting out of vessels from harbors and from under the protection
of shore batteries, belongs exclusively to a past condition of naval
warfare. Even under the peculiar conditions of our late civil war and
blockade, cutting-out expeditions, when the object was the capture of
an armed vessel, were not so numerous as might have been supposed,
although most remarkable and gallant actions were performed in this way
by both sides.

As an example of a “cutting-out expedition,” we are tempted to give
that of the French 20-gun corvette Chevrette. Such actions are
decisive, on account of the discouragement and destruction of _morale_
brought upon the defeated side, and by the corresponding confidence and
elation of the victors.

In the summer of 1801 the French and Spanish combined fleet was lying
in Brest harbor, with Admiral Cornwallis and a British fleet watching
them. The more effectually to prevent the Franco-Spanish fleet from
getting to sea without his knowledge, the Admiral had detailed a
squadron of three frigates, under Captain Brisbane, of the Doris, to
lie off Point Mathias, in full view of the combined fleet.

During the month of July these frigates observed the French corvette
Chevrette at anchor in Camaret Bay, under some batteries; a position
considered by the French almost as secure as Brest harbor, and a
capital place for a cruiser to lie and watch the chances of the
blockade to get to sea. In spite of her position under the batteries,
the British resolved to attempt her capture. Accordingly, on the night
of the 20th of July, the boats of the Beaulieu and Doris frigates,
manned entirely by volunteers, and all under the orders of a Lieutenant
Losack, who had been sent in from the flag-ship, by Admiral Cornwallis,
to take the command, proceeded on the enterprise. The boats soon
separated, the crews of the faster ones being too zealous and excited
to slacken their efforts, so that the heavier boats could not keep up
with them. We can readily imagine, too, that a strange officer, sent
in by influence, to command such an expedition, would not receive as
cheerful support as would one of their own. Some of the boats got lost,
and returned to the ships; the rest, after reaching the entrance to
the bay, where they expected to be joined by their companions, lay
upon their oars until daybreak. They then pulled back to their ships.
But the mischief was done; they had been discovered from the corvette
and from the shore, and the effect was to put them on their guard,
and prevent any good being got from a surprise, in case of a renewed
attempt.

On the 21st the Chevrette got under way, and after running about a mile
and a half further up the bay, moored again, under some heavy batteries
on the shore. Here she took on board a number of soldiers, sufficient
to bring up her number on board to about three hundred and forty.

Her guns were loaded with grape, and every preparation made to resist
to the last. The shore batteries were also prepared; and temporary
redoubts were thrown up at adjacent points, while a gun-boat was moored
as a guard-boat at the entrance of the bay. All these precautions
taken, the corvette saucily displayed, in defiance, a large French
ensign above an English one, which could be plainly seen from the
anchorage of the English frigates.

The English now had their pride aroused, and that very night, about ten
o’clock, the boats of the three frigates, with the barge and pinnace of
the Robust, 74, and numbering fifteen in all, and still commanded by
Lieutenant Losack, proceeded to try the French corvette a second time.

Shortly after starting Lieut. Losack, with his own and five other
boats, went in pursuit of a lookout boat of the French, which it was
important to secure. The rest of the boats were directed to await the
return of the commanding officer. After waiting for a considerable
time, without his return, the officer next in command, Lieut. Keith
Maxwell, of the Beaulieu, considering that the boats had at least six
miles to pull, and that the night was already far advanced, resolved to
proceed without him.

They did so at once, after he had given orders that, while one party
was engaged in disarming the enemy’s crew on deck, the smartest top-men
of the Beaulieu should fight their way aloft and cut loose the sails;
others were detailed to cut the cables, and others to go to the wheel.
Some other arrangements made, the nine boats, under Maxwell, bent to
their oars, and steered for the enemy.

At one o’clock in the morning of the 22d, the nine boats came in sight
of the Chevrette, and the latter, after hailing, opened a heavy fire
of grape and musketry upon her assailants, and this was seconded by a
fire of musketry from the shore. But the boats pulled steadily on,
and the Beaulieu’s boats, under Maxwell himself, boarded the vessel
on the starboard bow and quarter. Those of the Uranie, one of the
Robust’s, and one of the Doris’ boarded on the port bow. These latter
had been cheered on by the gallant Lieut. Martin Neville, who was
conspicuous throughout, and who was wounded. The attempt to board
was most obstinately resisted by the French, with fire-arms, sabres,
tomahawks and pikes; and they, in their turn, boarded the boats. During
this formidable opposition over the side of the vessel the English lost
most of their fire-arms; but, by obstinate fighting, at last forced
their way on board, mostly armed with their cutlasses alone. Those who
had been ordered to go aloft fought their way to the rigging; and,
although some were killed, and others wounded, the remainder gained the
corvette’s yards. Here they found the foot-ropes strapped up, but they
soon managed to loose the sails, and, in the midst of the fight still
going on for the possession of the deck, down came the Chevrette’s
three top-sails and courses. The cable having, in the meantime, been
cut outside the ship, she began, under a light breeze from the land, to
drift out of the bay.

No sooner did the Frenchmen (who had up to that time, been fighting
most gallantly), see the sails fall, and their ship under way, than
they lost heart. Some of them jumped overboard, and made for the shore;
while others dropped their arms, and ran below, so that the English got
possession of the quarter-deck and forecastle; but the corvette’s crew
that had fled below still maintained a hot fire from the main deck, and
from up the hatchways, and it took a considerable time before these
were overpowered, and compelled to submit.

It is related in the Naval Chronicle that Mr. Brown, Boatswain of the
Beaulieu, in boarding, forced his way into the Chevrette’s quarter
gallery, but found the door so securely barricaded that he could not
force it. Through the crevices in the planks he could see men, armed
with pikes and pistols, who frequently shot at him through the panels,
as he attempted to burst in. Failing in the quarter gallery, he tried
the quarter, and after a great deal of resistance, gained the vessel’s
taffrail. The officer in command of the party was at this time fighting
his way up on the quarter, but not yet on board. The boatswain stood up
for a moment, a mark for the enemy’s fire, seeing in which direction
he should attack. Second nature then directed him to make for the
forecastle, where he felt most at home; and gathering a few men, and
waving his cutlass, with “Make a lane there!” dashed in, and fought his
way the whole length of the ship. Then, with the men animated by his
example he soon cleared the forecastle, which he held for the rest of
the contest, although frequently assailed. Here, after the vessel was
carried, he was seen attending to orders from the quarter-deck, and
assisting in casting the ship and making sail, with as much coolness as
if he had been on board the Beaulieu.

On her way out of the bay, during a short interval of calm, the
Chevrette became exposed to a heavy fire from the batteries on shore;
but the fair, light breeze soon arose again, and carried her clear of
them. Just at this time the six boats under Lieut. Losack joined her,
and Lieut. Maxwell, was, of course, superseded in his command, but not
until he had accomplished all that there was to be done.

Three two-deckers got under way and came out from Brest Roads with the
view of recapturing the Chevrette; but the near approach of the British
in-shore squadron compelled them to return to their anchorage, and the
captors carried off their prize safely. In this spirited engagement the
English had eleven killed, fifty-seven wounded, and one drowned. The
latter was in one of the English boats sunk by the French shot.

The Chevrette lost her captain, two lieutenants, three midshipmen, one
lieutenant of soldiers, and eighty-five seamen and troops killed; and
one lieutenant, four midshipmen, and fifty-seven seamen and troops
wounded; total, 92 killed and 62 wounded.

BOAT ATTACK UPON THE FRENCH FLOTILLA, AT BOULOGNE. A. D. 1801.

Another boat attack of the English upon the French, in the same year
as the cutting-out of the Chevrette, did not result so favorably for
the attacking party, even if their exertions were directed by no less a
person than Lord Nelson himself.

The fall of the year 1801 was the season decided upon by Napoleon for
putting in execution his famous plan for invading England. As this
became known it was thought desirable, by his vigilant and powerful
enemies on the other side of the Channel, to attack the flotilla of
gun-boats and small craft which he had collected at Boulogne, and other
ports, for the conveyance of his army. Accordingly, on July 30th,
Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson hoisted his flag on board the frigate Medusa,
32, then lying in the Downs, as commander-in-chief, not only of the
squadron for the special service, but of all the defences constructing
along the south shores of England, from Orfordness to Beachey Head.

On the 3d of August Lord Nelson, having with him about thirty vessels,
great and small, stood across to Boulogne, the port whence it was
supposed the main attempt would be made against England, and which the
French, fearing attack themselves, had recently been fortifying with
considerable care.

On the morning of the 4th the English bomb-vessels threw their shells
among the French flotilla, which consisted of twenty-four brigs, many
lugger-rigged flats, and a schooner, anchored in line in front of
the town. These brigs were vessels of about 200 tons, and generally
armed with from four to eight heavy long guns. The lugger-flats drew
but about three or four feet of water, had very stout bulwarks, and
were armed with a 13-inch mortar, a long gun, swivels and small arms.
They each carried about thirty men in crew, and one hundred and fifty
soldiers besides. Bonaparte had an immense number of these lugger-flats
constructed, all along the northern coast of France, for the conveyance
of his army. It is hard to see how they were to be successful in
accomplishing the object, in that spot of swift, uncertain tides,
irregular currents, and most changeable weather. Nelson’s bombardment
of Boulogne, on the morning of the 4th of August, amounted to nothing,
and he retired.

On the night of August 13th, however, Nelson dispatched the armed
boats of his squadron, formed into four grand divisions, and commanded
by four captains, and accompanied by a division of mortar-boats, to
attempt to capture and bring off the French flotilla at Boulogne, which
had been very much strengthened since the last attack.

The boats put off from Nelson’s flag-ship at about half past eleven
at night, in perfect order; but the darkness of the night coöperating
with the tides and currents, soon separated the divisions. One of them,
indeed, was obliged to return, and never reached the scene of action at
all. Another division was carried by the currents far to the eastward,
but at length, by dint of great exertion, reached the French flotilla
just before daylight. Some portion of the boats then attacked, and
after a short contest carried, a brig lying close to the pier head,
but were prevented from towing her off, in consequence of her being
secured with chains, and partly because of a heavy fire of musketry and
grape-shot from the shore, and from other vessels moored close to.

In fact, the English “caught a Tartar,” and, abandoning their single
prize, as the day broke pushed out of the range of French fire. They
had accomplished nothing, and this division, which was commanded by
Captain Somerville, had eighteen killed and fifty-five wounded.

Another division, under Captain Parker, had less trouble from the
current, and got to the scene of action half an hour after midnight.
They attacked one of the largest of the French brigs, most gallantly
and impetuously, but a very strong boarding netting, triced up
completely to her lower yards, baffled the British in their endeavors
to board, while a general discharge of her great guns and small arms,
the latter from about 200 soldiers on board, dashed the assailants
back, bleeding and dazed, into their boats. Some other vessels were
attacked, with a like result, and this division had also to retire,
with a loss of twenty-one killed, and forty-two wounded.

The third and last division of Nelson’s boats which succeeded in
reaching the enemy attacked with the same gallantry, and were repulsed
as decidedly. They had five killed and twenty-nine wounded. Grand
total, 44 killed, and 126 wounded. In addition the English had to leave
behind them not a few of their boats; and the affair was in every
respect a triumph for the French, in spite of the master mind which
conceived it.

COPENHAGEN. A.D. 1801.

In the year 1800 the surrender of Malta to the English fleet gave it
the mastery in the Mediterranean; and General Abercrombie, with a
British force, landing at Aboukir Bay, defeated the French army which
Bonaparte had left in Egypt, and which soon after found itself forced
to surrender.

By the evacuation of Egypt, India was secured, and Turkey was prevented
from becoming a dependency of France.

England now turned her attention to the Northern coalition.

The treaty of Luneville had left her alone in the struggle against
France.

The Northern powers, wishing to secure their commerce from insult and
capture by the always increasing naval power of England, had formed
a coalition, headed by the Czar Peter, and revived the claim that a
neutral flag should cover even contraband of war.

Denmark, which had been very active in the combination, was the first
to feel the weight of the anger of the British Cabinet.

The Danish naval force consisted of about ten sail of seventy-fours
and sixty-fours, in fair order, and of about as many more which were
unserviceable. The Russians had about twenty sail available, and the
Swedes eleven sail.

In the month of March, 1801, before the fleets of Sweden and Russia
could join that of Denmark, and thus form a combined fleet which could
hope to resist English encroachments, England dispatched a fleet to the
Cattegat, under Admiral Sir Hyde Parker, with Lord Nelson as second in
command.

This fleet carried a commissioner, with full powers to treat, and
charged to offer to the Danes peace or war. _Peace_, if they abandoned
the Northern confederation, by opening the passage of the Sound to
England, and by forbidding their men-of-war to protect their merchant
convoys from the arbitrary and insolent visits of English men-of-war;
_war_, if Denmark wished to preserve her maritime independence. The
Danish government indignantly repelled the insulting ultimatum: and the
English fleet at once forced the passage of the Sound, in spite of the
batteries erected to prevent it. The King of Denmark had hastened to
prepare his Capital and its surroundings for defence; and the Prince
Royal took command of the whole of the operations, military and naval.
As regards the operations of the British fleet, we shall now follow
the English accounts, as they do not materially differ from those
which come from Danish and French sources. The severe action which
followed redounded to the glory of Nelson (the Commander-in-chief, Sir
Hyde Parker, being quite a secondary character), as well as to the
conspicuous and stubborn courage of the Danes.

We must remember that the great genius of Nelson directed the best
efforts of some of the best and hardiest men-of-war’s men of the time;
while the Danes, after a long peace, were little accustomed either to
stand fire, or to naval evolutions. But, nevertheless, they fought
with devoted bravery; and made a most gallant, though ineffectual
resistance; seldom equaled, and never excelled.

To return to the action. The pilots, who were to take the fleet in,
through very shallow waters, and channels between dangerous sand-bars,
and who were not to share the honors, found it well to magnify the
dangers of the shallow Sound; and their conduct caused some delay.

During this time, Sir Hyde Parker sent a flag of truce to the Governor
of Elsinore, to inquire if he meant to oppose the passage of the fleet
through the Sound. It is almost impossible to imagine a greater insult
to a weak nation, than such an inquiry. Governor Stricker, to his
honor, replied that the guns of the Castle would certainly be fired at
any British ships of war which approached. At length, on the morning
of the 30th of March, the British fleet weighed anchor, from a point
at the entrance of the Sound, and, with the wind about northwest,
and consequently fair, proceeded into the Sound, in line ahead. The
English fleet was composed of the 98-gun ship London, Sir Hyde Parker’s
flag-ship, and the St. George, 98, with the flag of Vice-Admiral Lord
Nelson. There were, in addition, eleven 74s, five 64s, one 54, one 50,
one 38, two 36s, and one 32.

Of these, six 74s, three 64s, and all the smaller vessels were
afterwards placed under Nelson’s orders, and bore the brunt of the
battle.

As the fleet entered the Sound, the van division was commanded by
Lord Nelson, in the Elephant, a 74 (into which ship, as a lighter and
more active one than the St. George, he had, on the preceding day,
shifted his flag), the centre division by the Commander-in-chief, and
the rear division by Rear-Admiral Graves. At seven the batteries at
Elsinore commenced firing at the Monarch, which was the leading ship,
and at the other ships, as they passed in succession. The distance
was, however, so great, that not a shot struck the ships; and only
the van ships fired in return, and even those did not fire more than
three broadsides. A gun burst on one of the English ships, and killed
seven men, and this comprised the whole loss in the passage of the
Sound. The English bomb-vessels, seven in number, threw shell at the
Danes, however, and thereby killed and wounded a few in Cronenberg
and Helsingen. As the Strait at Elsinore is less than three miles
across, a mid-channel passage would have exposed the ships to a fire
from Cronenberg Castle on the one side, and from the Swedish town
of Helsinborg on the other; but the latter had very inconsiderable
batteries, and did not make even a show of opposition. On observing
this, the British inclined to the Swedish shore, passing within less
than a mile of it, and thus avoiding a fire that, coming from nearly
one hundred pieces of cannon, could not fail to have been destructive.

About noon the fleet anchored at some distance above the Island of
Huën, which is about fifteen miles distant from Copenhagen.

Sir Hyde Parker, Vice-Admiral Nelson, and Rear-Admiral Graves,
then proceeded, in a lugger, to reconnoitre the Danish defences;
and they soon ascertained that they were of considerable strength.
In consequence of this discovery a council of war was held in the
evening, with the usual result, a majority urging an abandonment of the
enterprise, or, at least, a delay in the attack. But Nelson prevailed,
and offered, if given ten sail-of-the-line, and all the small craft, to
accomplish the business before them.

Admiral Parker complied, without hesitation; and he, moreover, granted
Nelson two more ships of-the-line than he had asked for. It required
light-draft ships for the work in hand, for the force at Copenhagen
was not the only obstacle to be overcome. It was approached by an
intricate channel, but little known.

To increase the difficulty, the Danes had removed or misplaced the
buoys. That same night Lord Nelson himself, accompanied by Captain
Brisbane and some others, proceeded to sound and buoy the outer
channel, a narrow passage lying between the Island of Saltholm and the
Middle Ground. This was a very difficult and fatiguing duty, but was
duly accomplished.

An attack from the eastward was at first contemplated; but a second
examination of the Danish position, on the next day, as well as a
favorable change in the wind, determined Nelson to commence operations
from the southward.

On the morning of the 1st of April the British fleet weighed anchor,
and soon came to again to the northwest of the Middle Ground, a shoal
that extends along the whole sea front of the City of Copenhagen,
leaving an intervening channel of deep water, called the Konigstiéfe,
about three-quarters of a mile wide. In this channel, close to the
town, the Danes had moored their block-ships, radeaus, praams (or armed
lighters), and other gun-vessels. In the course of the forenoon Lord
Nelson reconnoitred, for the last time, the position he was about to
attack; and upon his return, about one in the afternoon, the signal to
weigh appeared at the Elephant’s mast-head, and the division set sail,
with a light and favorable wind. Nelson had, in addition to his force
already given, been joined by one 28, two 24s, and two 18-gun sloops,
making his whole force to consist of thirty-two sail, large and small.

Captain Riou led, in the Amazon, 38, and the ships entered the upper
channel, and coasted along the edge of the Middle Ground, until they
reached and partly rounded the southern extremity. Here they anchored,
about eight o’clock in the evening, just as it grew dark; and they were
then about two miles from the southernmost ship of the Danish line of
defence.

The same northwesterly wind that had been fair for passing along the
outer channel, was now as foul for advancing by the inner one. It was
also necessary to wait for daylight, in such intricate navigation. The
night was passed in taking soundings, and the depth was ascertained, up
to the Danish line.

The additional vessels, consisting of seven bomb-ships, two fire-ships,
and six gun-brigs were brought in; and then there was nothing to do
but wait until morning, as the few shells thrown by the Danes burst
harmlessly.

We must now look at the Danish force. It consisted of eighteen vessels,
of different kinds. Some old and dismantled two-decked ships, frigates,
praams and radeaus, mounting, altogether, 628 guns, were moored in a
line of about a mile in extent. These were flanked at the north end, or
that nearest the town, by two artificial islands, called the Trekroner
batteries, one of thirty 24-pounders, and the other of thirty-eight
36-pounders, with furnaces for heating shot; and both of them commanded
by two two-decked block-ships.

The entrance to the docks and harbor, in the heart of the city, was
protected by a chain, and by batteries; while, in addition, the 74-gun
ships Dannemark and Trekroner, a frigate, and some large gun-vessels
(some of them with furnaces for hot shot), were moored about the
harbor’s mouth. Several batteries were built along the shore of Amaag
Island, to the southward of the floating line of defence; while the
indignant Danes flocked to man the works, animated by the desire to
repel the invaders by every possible means.

Morning dawned, on the second of April, with a southeasterly wind,
which was favorable to the English. As soon as signals could be seen,
one was made for all Captains to repair on board the flag-ship, when
their stations were assigned them. The line-of-battle ships were
intended to anchor by the stern, abreast of the vessels of the enemy’s
line. Most of the frigates and the fire-ships were to operate against
the vessels at the harbor’s mouth. The bomb-vessels were to take their
stations outside the British line, so as to throw their shells over
it; while two frigates and some gun-vessels and brigs were to take a
position for raking the southern extremity of the Danish line. The 49th
English Regiment, which was on board some of the vessels, and five
hundred seamen, under Captain Freemantle, of the Ganges, were intended,
at the proper time, to storm the principal of the Trekroner batteries.
Of course this was to be when the ships had silenced its fire.

By nine o’clock everything was ready; a silence reigned before the
storm began, and “the stoutest held their breath for a time.”

But now Nelson was hampered by the hesitation and indecision of the
pilots.

At last Mr. Briarly, the Master of the Bellona, undertook to lead
the fleet in, and for that purpose went on board the Edgar; and at
half-past nine the ships began to weigh, in succession. The Edgar led.
The Agamemnon was to follow, but was unable to weather the shoal, and
was forced to bring to again, in only six fathoms of water. Although
she tried again, by warping, the current was such that Nelson’s old and
favorite ship was utterly unable to get any nearer.

Two more ships succeeded in following the Edgar, but the third, the
Bellona, 74, got aground, abreast of the Danish block-ship Provesteen,
and the Russell, 74, following her, had the same mishap. They were
within long gun-shot. In compliance with the wish of the pilots, each
ship had been ordered to pass her leader on the starboard side, from
a supposition that the water shoaled on the other shore; in fact, the
water kept deepening all the way to the Danish line. The Elephant came
next, and Lord Nelson, perceiving the situation of the ships aground,
by a happy stroke, ordered his helm to be put to starboard, and passed
within those ships, as did, in safety, all those who came after him.
Had it not been for this, most of the large vessels would have run
ashore, and been practically useless. As soon as Lord Nelson’s squadron
weighed, Sir Hyde Parker’s eight ships did the same, and took up a new
position to the north, but too far off on account of shoal water, to
effect much by their fire.

At ten o’clock the fire opened, and by half-past eleven, as the ships
came into their stations, the action became general. Owing to the
strength of the current, the Jamaica, 28, and many of the English
gun-boats were unable to get into a position to be of much service,
while the fire of the bomb-vessels was not nearly so destructive as had
been expected.

The absence of the Bellona and Russell, 74s, and of the Agamemnon, 64,
was much felt, as it caused some of the British vessels which got in to
have more than their share of fire.

And now the two lines were enveloped in powder smoke and flame for
three long hours. Horrible scenes, and dreadful wounds and destruction
always follow a bombardment by the heavy guns which ships carry, as
compared with the field artillery of a land battle. During all this
time the fight was maintained with a courage and persistence seldom
equalled, and never excelled.

At the end of three hours’ very heavy firing, few, if any, of the
Danish block-ships, praams, or radeaus had ceased firing; nor could
the contest be said to have taken a decisive turn for either side. To
use a vulgar but expressive saying, the English had “a hard nut to
crack” in the Danes. At this time signals of distress were flying at
the mast-heads of two English line-of-battle ships, and a signal of
inability on board a third.

Sir Hyde Parker, from his distance from the scene of action, could
judge but imperfectly of the condition of affairs. Observing the slow
progress, and zig-zag courses of the Defence and Ramillies, 74s, and
the Veteran, 64, which he had despatched as a reinforcement to his
Vice-Admiral, he argued that matters were not progressing favorably for
the attacking force; and so he threw out the signal for discontinuing
the engagement. Had this been done, the last ships to retire, of the
English, as well as those on shore, would have been placed in a most
dangerous predicament. Lord Nelson chose, on this occasion, to disobey
orders. It is a remarkable fact that, with regard to discipline, some
of the greatest leaders have been the most recusant. No one can deny
Lord Nelson’s genius as a leader of fleets, but all who are interested
in navies must regret the example he set upon this occasion. He,
himself, would have had any man shot who disobeyed orders, under fire,
as he did Sir Hyde Parker’s. The result obtained by his disobedience
justifies the act, in the civil mind; but the far-reaching effects of
disobedience of the kind can only be estimated by those who have served
in fleets or armies.

The three frigates and two sloops nearest to the London and her
division, did, without question, obey the signal, and hauled off from
the Trekroner batteries. The gallant Captain Riou, of the Amazon, was
shot in two, and that frigate sustained her greatest loss in obeying
Sir Hyde Parker’s order, which required him to present his stern to one
of the Trekroner batteries.

When Sir Hyde Parker made the signal to retire, it was reported to
Nelson by his signal lieutenant. He continued to walk the deck, and
appeared to take no notice of it. The signal officer met him at the
next turn, and asked him if he should repeat the signal, as is usual
with those coming from a Commander-in-chief to a second in command.

“No,” said Nelson, “acknowledge it.”

Presently, Nelson asked the signal lieutenant if the signal for close
action was still hoisted; and being answered in the affirmative, said,
“Mind you keep it so!”

“He now paced the deck, moving the stump of his lost arm in a manner
that, with him, always indicated great emotion. ‘Do you know,’ said
he, ‘what is shown on board the Commander-in-chief?’ ‘Number 39!’ Mr.
Fergusson asked him what that meant. ‘Why, to leave off action.’ Then,
shrugging up his shoulders, he repeated the words ‘leave off action?
now d--n me if I do! You know, Foley,’ turning to the captain of his
flag-ship, ‘I have only one eye, I have a right to be blind sometimes,’
and then, putting the glass to his blind eye, in that mood of mind
which sports with bitterness, he exclaimed, ‘I really do not see the
signal.’ Presently he exclaimed ‘D--n the signal! Keep mine for closer
battle flying! That’s the way I answer such signals. Nail mine to the
mast.’”

[Illustration: BATTLE OF COPENHAGEN.]

About two o’clock in the afternoon the fire of the Danes had begun to
slacken; and soon after it had ceased along nearly their whole line.
Some of their light vessels and floating batteries had got adrift, and
some had struck their colors, but could not be taken possession of for
the reason that the nature of the action was such that the crews were
continually reinforced from the shore; and fresh men coming on board
did not inquire whether the flag had been struck, or, perhaps, did
not heed it; many, or most of them, never having been engaged in war
before, and knowing nothing, therefore, of its laws, thought only of
defending their country to the last extremity. The firing on the boats
which went to take possession of those Danish vessels whose flags were
not flying greatly irritated Nelson; who, at one time, had thoughts of
sending in the fire-ships, to burn such vessels.

During the pause in the action, he sent a letter to the Danish Crown
Prince, in which he said, according to Southey, “Vice-Admiral Nelson
has been commanded to spare Denmark when she no longer resists. The
line of defence which covered her shores has struck to the British
flag; but if the firing is continued on the part of Denmark, he must
set on fire all the prizes that he has taken, without having the power
of saving the men who have so nobly defended them. The brave Danes are
the brothers, and should never be the enemies of the English.” The
account goes on to say that a wafer was given him to close this letter,
but he ordered a candle to be brought from the surgeon’s quarters, and
sealed the letter with wax, affixing a larger seal than he ordinarily
used. “This,” said he, “is no time to appear hurried or informal.”

Nelson’s letter is probably correctly given in Southey, but the French
say that he asked for Denmark to consent at once to leave the Northern
Confederation, to permit the English to caulk and refit their ships
in the Danish dock yard; and to receive the English wounded in the
Copenhagen hospitals.

Captain Sir Frederick Thesiger, with a flag of truce, carried the
letter on shore, and found the Crown Prince at the sally-port. The fire
of a part of the English line against the Danish block-ships was still
kept up, and about this time silenced them. But the great Trekroner
battery was comparatively uninjured. This battery therefore continued
its fire; and, having had a reinforcement thrown in from the shore, was
considered too strong to be stormed.

It was now deemed advisable to withdraw the English ships from the
intricate channel while the wind continued fair; and preparations
to that end were making, when the Danish Adjutant-General appeared,
bearing a flag of truce. Upon this, the Trekroner ceased firing, and
the action, after continuing five hours, during four of which it had
been very warmly contested, was brought to a close.

The message was to inquire the particular object of Lord Nelson’s note.
The latter replied that he consented to stay hostilities from motives
of humanity. He wished the Danish wounded to be taken on shore; to take
his prisoners out of the prizes; and to burn or carry off the latter,
as he should think fit. He also expressed a hope for reconciliation
between the two countries; a bitter thing, under the circumstances.

Sir Frederick Thesiger, who had returned with the Danish
Adjutant-General, was again sent with this reply, and he was referred
to the Crown Prince for a final adjustment of terms. It is said that
the populace were so excited that the flag-of-truce officer was in
danger of his life. The interval was taken advantage of to get the
leading British ships, all of whom were much crippled in rigging and
sails, out of their very precarious position. The Monarch led the way
out, but touched on the shoal; but the Ganges, striking her amidships,
pushed her over it. The Glatton passed clear, but the Elephant and
the Defiance grounded about a mile from the formidable Trekroner
battery, and there remained fixed, for many hours, in spite of every
exertion. The Désirée also grounded, close to the Bellona. Soon after
the Elephant grounded Lord Nelson left her, and followed the Danish
Adjutant General to the London, Sir Hyde Parker’s flag-ship.

Here an important conference was held. It is said that Nelson remarked
to the Danish officer that “the French fight well, but they would not
have borne for one hour what the Danes have borne for five. I have been
in many battles, but that of to-day is by far the most terrible.”

During the whole of the night of April 2d the British were occupied
getting out their prizes, and in floating their grounded ships. On the
morning of the 3d all of the latter but the Désirée were got off.

The negotiations lasted five days, and during that time all the prizes,
except the 60-gun ship Holstein, were set on fire and destroyed. Most
of those so destroyed were not worth carrying away.

On the 9th of April an armistice of fourteen weeks was agreed upon;
Denmark agreeing, in that time, to suspend all proceedings under the
treaty of armed neutrality which she had entered into with Sweden and
Russia.

The prisoners were sent on shore, to be accounted for in case
hostilities should be renewed; and the British fleet had permission to
purchase fresh provisions and supplies at Copenhagen, and along the
coast adjoining.

In the action before Copenhagen the loss, in killed and wounded, of
the British fleet, was about twelve hundred. The Danish loss is put
down at between sixteen and eighteen hundred, and, with prisoners
taken, at about six thousand.

Although the affair, as a mere fight, might be considered a drawn
battle, the first overture having come from the English, the victory
clearly remained with the latter, for they got almost everything they
demanded. The Danes were much inferior in number of guns, and are
entitled to every credit for the splendid resistance they made.

On the 12th of April Admiral Parker despatched to England the prize
ship Holstein, of 60 guns, conveying most of his wounded men, and also
one or two of his own ships which had been much disabled. He then
transhipped the guns of his heavy ships into chartered vessels, and
managed to get his fleet into the Baltic in this way, instead of going
round by the Belts. This feat astonished the Swedes, Russians, Danes
and Prussians, who had not imagined that such ships could be brought
into the Baltic by that channel.

Parker’s first object was to attack the Russian squadron, at Revel,
before the breaking up of the ice should enable it to join the
Swedish fleet at Carlscrona. The movement resulted in no battle,
but in negotiations, by which a peaceable solution of the existing
difficulties could be had.

A characteristic action of Lord Nelson may here be related. The
St. George, his flag-ship, had had great difficulty in passing the
shoals, and was among the last to get over, while Sir Hyde Parker had
proceeded, with most of the fleet. A head wind set in, and the St.
George was again detained. Hearing that the Swedish fleet had come
out, Lord Nelson instantly quitted the St. George, accompanied by the
master of the Bellona, Mr. Briarly, in a six-oared cutter, to join the
Admiral, who was twenty-four miles off. They had to pull in the teeth
of a strong wind and current, and Nelson had not stopped even to get a
boat-cloak, so necessary at that early season of the year. He was in
this boat nearly six hours, refusing to put on a great coat offered
him. “No,” he said, “I am not cold; my anxiety will keep me warm. Do
you think the fleet has sailed?” “I should suppose not, my Lord,”
said Briarly. “If they have,” said Nelson, “I shall follow them to
Carlscrona in the boat, by G--d!” Now, the distance to Carlscrona was
about one hundred and fifty miles.

At midnight Nelson reached the fleet, which had not sailed.

The Emperor Paul had now died, and his successor, Alexander 1st,
was disposed to make overtures looking towards peace, so that the
succeeding movements of Parker and Nelson, in the Baltic, do not come
within our province.

COPENHAGEN, 1807.

In this connection we must refer to another attack made by the British
upon the luckless city of Copenhagen.

This is not the place to raise the question as to whether governments,
as such, should be governed by a different code of morality from
individuals; or whether “reasons of State” (which are generally the
will of one man) should be substituted with impunity for common
humanity, justice, and the rights of man.

But the impropriety of discussing the question in this place should
not prevent us from declaring that there never was a greater abuse of
force than in the second attack of England on the comparatively feeble
State of Denmark, in 1807. It is only fair to say that a large body of
English subjects condemned it then, and condemn it now; and it is the
English ministry of that day which must bear the blame, in the eyes of
succeeding generations.

In the treaty of Tilsit (1807), France and Russia were put upon a most
intimate and friendly footing; and Russia undertook to act as mediator
between France and England, for the conclusion of a peace, at least as
regarded maritime operations. In accordance with his engagements, the
Emperor Alexander addressed a note to the English government; but his
overtures were very coldly received. Castlereagh, Canning and Percival,
the inheritors of Pitt’s policy, and of his hatred of the French (but
not of his great abilities), saw their power and influence upon the
Continent of Europe decreasing, while Napoleon’s was growing.

They, therefore, determined upon an expedition of magnitude, which,
while it would occupy the minds of the people at home, and thereby
disconcert the plans of the opposition, would renew the terror in which
their arms had been held abroad.

The plan was to renew the attack upon Denmark, as in 1801, but the
operations were to be carried out in an even more thorough and ruthless
manner.

Denmark had joined the new coalition against England, and Napoleon was
at the bottom of it; but no declaration of war was made by England
against Denmark, and that small kingdom, not suspecting any such design
at that moment, was to see all the horrors of war suddenly let loose
upon her. Her sole wrong, in the eyes of the British Cabinet, was the
possession of a navy, still of some strength, which might be used by
the coalition against England.

Denmark was, at the time, observing a strict neutrality, and,
although forced to acquiesce in the condition of things consequent
upon Napoleon’s occupation of northern Europe, had not joined in the
Continental blockade. Mistrusting France even more than England, she
had sent most of her army into Holstein, with a view to causing the
French to respect her frontier. The best policy of England, under the
circumstances, would have been to keep on terms with Denmark, and if
there was any pressure to be exercised to make her take sides in the
great events then transpiring, to leave the odium of such a measure
upon Napoleon. But the British Cabinet resolved to secure the Danish
fleet, at all hazards, and so put it out of the power of that nation or
of Napoleon ever to use it against England.

To give color to their aggression upon the sovereign rights of Denmark,
the British Cabinet alleged that they had knowledge of a stipulation in
the Treaty of Tilsit, which brought Denmark fully into the Continental
coalition; and, as we have said, the expedition was undertaken to carry
off from Napoleon the Danish naval resources, and it was therefore said
to be an act of legitimate defence on the part of England.

In the latter part of July, 1807, Admiral Gambier sailed from England,
with twenty-five sail-of-the-line, forty frigates, and three hundred
and seventy-seven transports, carrying 20,000 troops, commanded by
General Cathcart. The latter was to be joined by seven or eight
thousand more troops, returning from the siege of Stralsund. At this
time almost all the Danish troops were in Holstein; and the English
plan, a well conceived one, was to seize the Belts, with a portion of
the fleet, intercept the passages and prevent the return of the Danish
army to the relief of Copenhagen. Then a strong land force was to be
landed near Copenhagen, and that city to be destroyed by bombardment,
in case she should refuse to surrender.

The English fleet appeared in the Sound on the 3d of August; and
Admiral Gambier at once despatched Commodore Keats, with a suitable
force, to secure the Belts, and prevent all passage from the mainland
to the Danish islands. The fleet then proceeded down the Sound, and
anchored in Elsinore Road. The Admiral sent Commissioner Jackson to
the Crown Prince, then acting as Regent of Denmark, to propose an
alliance, offensive and defensive, with England. He was also to demand
the surrender of Kronberg Castle to the English army, and the port of
Copenhagen and the Danish fleet to the navy, protesting that they were
only to be held until the return of general peace in Europe, and then
to be _loyally_ returned. These outrageous proposals were too much for
the Crown Prince’s diplomatic reserve. “Never in history,” he cried
out, “was seen so odious an attack as is contemplated against Denmark.”
“We may expect more honorable ideas from the Barbary pirates than from
the English government. You propose an alliance! We know what alliance
with you means. We have seen your allies waiting a whole year, in vain,
for promised assistance!”

The Commissioner said that England would pay, cash down, for any
injuries which Denmark might receive in consequence of such an
alliance. “And with what,” said the indignant Prince, “would you pay
for our lost honor, if we acceded to so humiliating a proposition?”
Upon receiving this answer Jackson withdrew, and hostilities at once
began.

The garrison of Copenhagen consisted of about eight thousand men.
There were some regular troops, but the most of the defenders were
volunteers, students and citizens. Entrenchments and batteries were
raised, and armed; hulks were moored in the passes, and others sunk, to
prevent the English ships from coming in. The fleet, the main object
of the attack, was sheltered in the inner basins of the dock-yard. But
the Danish preparations were only intended to resist assault, and were
powerless against bombardment.

The Prince Regent, having taken all precautions which circumstances
permitted, committed the charge of the city and its defences to General
Peyman, a brave and worthy soldier, with orders to resist to the last;
and then hurried away into Holstein, to endeavor to find some means
of bringing the Danish army to the rescue. At the same time General
Castenskiod was ordered to assemble the military of Zealand. But these
untrained levies could be of very little use against the veteran
English troops, and the devoted city was left to the defence of General
Peyman’s small force.

When Jackson returned to the British fleet the word was given, and
a shocking scene of slaughter and destruction ensued. The troops
debarked to the north of Copenhagen. Most of them were Hessians and
other Germans in English employ. It was known that the city could not
be carried by assault without fearful loss to the attacking party, so
the English troops approached, threw up some works, but did not attempt
a regular siege. A bombardment was the means resorted to; and by this
dreadful means the city was to be burned and ruined, until the Danes
submitted. It was now that Colonel Congreve made the first trial, in
actual warfare, of the destructive rockets which bear his name.

On the 1st of September the English preparations were completed.
Cathcart had erected a battery of sixty-eight pieces, forty-eight of
which were mortars. He then summoned the city, demanding the port,
arsenal and fleet, on pain of burning the place. In his letter he
prayed General Peyman to yield, and not force him to extremity against
a place filled with non-combatants, women and children. Peyman, true
to the trust confided in him by the Crown Prince, and sustained by the
indignant citizens, answered the summons in the negative.

On the 2d of September, in the evening, the bombardment commenced,
and a hail of shell, rockets, and other missiles fell upon the city.
The best answer possible was made, but the English were so sheltered
by their defences that their loss was nothing. It continued all night
and part of the next day; and was then suspended to see if Peyman yet
thought of surrender.

Hundreds of Danes had been killed, and many destructive fires had
occurred. Many of the finest buildings were destroyed, and the whole
of the male population who were not in the trenches were exhausted by
the labor which they had undergone in trying to extinguish the flames.
Peyman resolved to hold out still, and the bombardment was renewed on
the evening of the 3d, assisted by the bomb-vessels of the English
fleet. With a short interval it was continued until the morning of the
5th; a population of 100,000 being all this time exposed to a rain
of missiles. The destruction was, of course, very great. About two
thousands persons were killed, many of them old people and children,
while some of the finest buildings and several hundred dwellings were
destroyed. At last, having made an heroic defence, General Peyman, to
save the rest of the city, determined to capitulate. By the articles
agreed upon the English were to remain in possession six weeks, the
time estimated as necessary to fit out the vessels which were to
be taken away. The Danes saw this spoliation with helpless rage and
anguish, and when they turned away, they had the sight of their half
ruined city before their eyes.

The English fitted out, and carried off, sixteen ships of the line,
about twenty frigates and brigs, and all the stores, rigging, timber,
and ship-building tools from the dock-yard. The ships on the stocks,
and the condemned hulks were burned. It took 20,000 tons of transport
shipping to carry off the stores which were taken.

The casualties of both the British army and navy, in this expedition,
amounted to only fifty-six killed, one hundred and seventy-five
wounded, and twenty-five missing.

TRAFALGAR. OCTOBER 21ST, A.D. 1805.

The year 1805 was a momentous period in the history of Europe. Napoleon
had long meditated the invasion of England, saying “Let us be masters
of the Channel for six hours, and we are masters of the world.” A
skillfully combined plan, by which the British fleet would have been
divided, while the whole French navy was concentrated in the Channel,
was delayed by the death of the Admiral designated to execute it.
But an alliance with Spain placed the Spanish fleet at Bonaparte’s
disposal, in 1805, and he formed a fresh scheme for its union with that
of France, the crushing of the fleet under Cornwallis, which blocked
the Channel ports, before Admiral Nelson could come to its support, and
a crossing of the vast armament so protected to the British shores. The
plan was to draw Nelson away in pursuit of the French fleet, which was
then suddenly to return and crush the English Channel squadron.

Nelson, now in command of the Mediterranean and Cadiz fleet, had
been searching diligently for the French Toulon fleet, and was much
concerned that he could not find it.

In February, 1805 he had been down as far as Egypt, but found nothing
there, and, half distracted with anxiety, steered for Malta. Soon after
arriving there he received from Naples intelligence of what had, in
reality, become of the French fleet.

At that time he wrote to the Admiralty, to say “I have consulted no
man, therefore the whole blame of ignorance in forming my judgment
must rest with me. I would allow no man to take from me an atom of
my glory had I fallen in with the French fleet, nor do I desire any
man to partake of any of the responsibility. All is mine, right or
wrong.” * * * * “I consider the character of Bonaparte, and that the
orders given by him on the banks of the Seine would not take into
consideration wind or weather.”

In a letter to Captain Ball, at Malta, of April 19, 1805, when the
fleet, going to the westward, was buffeting with head winds, he says,
“My good fortune, my dear Ball, seems flown away. I cannot get a fair
wind, or even a side wind--dead foul! dead foul! but my mind is fully
made up what to do when I leave the Straits, supposing there is no
certain information of the enemy’s destination. I believe this ill luck
will go near to kill me; but, as these are times for exertion, I must
not be cast down, whatever I feel.”

At this very time Nelson had before him a letter from the Physician of
the fleet, enforcing his return to England before the hot months, such
was his bad state of health.

“Therefore,” he writes, in spite of this, “notwithstanding, I shall
pursue the enemy to the West or East Indies, if I know that to have
been their destination; yet, if the Mediterranean fleet joins the
Channel, I shall request, with that order (from the Physician),
permission to go on shore.”

On April 8th, 1805, the French fleet passed the Straits of Gibraltar,
and the same afternoon entered Cadiz, driving off the small British
squadron then there, under Sir John Orde.

Here a number of Spanish men-of-war joined the French Admiral;
and on the 9th the combined fleet--five Spanish and twelve French
ships-of-the-line, seven frigates, a corvette and three brigs, stood to
the westward, to rendezvous in the West Indies, at Martinique, at which
island they arrived on May 12th.

On the 4th of May, Nelson was watering and provisioning his fleet
at Mazari Bay, on the Barbary coast, and, the wind coming east, was
enabled to proceed to the westward; but he did not get through the
Straits of Gibraltar till the night of the 7th, when his enemy was
almost at Martinique. He had supposed that the Allied fleet was bound
to the Irish coast; but received certain information, at this time,
from a Scotch officer, named Campbell, in the Portuguese service, that
they had gone to the West Indies. Campbell was afterwards complained
against by the French Ambassador, for giving this information, and his
career ruined.

Nelson determined to follow the enemy, without orders, and at the risk
of professional censure, for to do so he must abandon his station
without leave. He went into Lagos Bay, and having received five months’
provisions, sailed, on May 11th, and, at Cape St. Vincent, detached a
line-of-battle ship to escort some transports and 5000 troops through
the Straits. With ten sail-of-the-line and three frigates, Nelson then
crowded sail to the westward, in pursuit of his enemy’s fleet, which he
knew consisted of eighteen sail-of-the-line, at the least, besides nine
frigates.

Nelson was now Vice-Admiral of the White, in the 100-gun ship Victory,
Captain Hardy. He had one 80, the Canopus, Rear-Admiral Louis, and
Captain Austen, and eight 74’s, with three-frigates. Lord Nelson has
been accused of rashness in seeking to engage a force nearly double his
own, but he expected to be joined by six sail-of-the-line at Barbadoes.

On the passage to the West Indies, Nelson prepared an elaborate plan
of battle, the most striking feature in which was, “The business of
an English Commander-in-chief being first to bring an enemy’s fleet
to battle, on the most advantageous terms to himself (I mean, that of
laying his ships close on board those of the enemy as expeditiously as
possible, and, secondly, to continue them there until the business is
decided),” etc., etc.

On May 15th Nelson’s fleet reached Madeira, and a frigate was sent on
to Barbadoes, to have Admiral Cochrane’s vessels ready for a junction.
He, himself, with the main fleet, did not arrive at Barbadoes until
June 4th. All this time he had many qualms about his course in leaving
his station, and, upon his arrival, was met by many conflicting reports.

But he soon learned that the French had gone north again. (At this time
he was thought by Napoleon and the French authorities to be still in
European waters.) Nelson’s swift movements had quite outstripped the
Emperor’s calculations.

Nelson left the West Indies again, with eleven sail-of-the line, and
cautiously pursued the large fleet in advance of him, in hopes that
better tactics would enable him to reach the shores of Europe before
them; and, at any rate, by his presence there he had stopped the career
of victory of the French, in the West Indies. He said to his Captains,
“My object is partly gained. * * * * We won’t part without a battle.
I think they will be glad to let me alone, if I will let them alone;
which I will do, either till we approach the shores of Europe, or they
give me an advantage too tempting to be resisted.”

The French Admiral Villeneuve’s orders as to his proceedings in the
West Indies are interesting, as well as the events which followed his
arrival there, but he was ordered to return soon, and to carry out a
project, as the ultimate object of the assembling of his allied fleet,
which was, in the eyes of Napoleon, infinitely more important than the
capture and pillage of the English West India Islands. In returning
to Europe Villeneuve was only obeying the Emperor’s orders, although
the latter blamed Villeneuve for not carrying out his orders in full,
attributing his hasty leaving the islands, to fright.

Afterwards, at St. Helena, he acknowledged that Villeneuve was a brave
man.

On the way to Europe the French fleet made one or two important
captures and re-captures, and came off Cape Finisterre about the latter
part of July.

And now let us follow Lord Nelson for a time.

He quitted Antigua on June 13th, having received information that the
enemy’s fleet was seen steering north, but he had no very definite
information, and had to rely on his own intuition. On July 17th he
sighted Cape St. Vincent, having sailed about 3500 miles on this one
passage.

There seems to be no doubt that Napoleon intended to attack Ireland, or
at least effect a landing there, and the best military and naval minds
considered that Villeneuve’s voyage to the West Indies was principally
intended to draw off the British naval force from the Channel, to admit
of an attack upon Ireland, a preliminary step in Napoleon’s plan.

[Illustration: NELSON’S VICTORY AT TRAFALGAR.]

On July 19th, 1805, the English fleet anchored in Gibraltar, and on
the 20th Lord Nelson says, in his diary, “I went on shore for the
first time since June 16th, 1803, and, from having my foot out of the
Victory, two years, wanting ten days.”

He remained only three days on shore at Gibraltar, and then received
information that the allied fleet had been seen, five weeks before,
steering N. N. west, in latitude 33°, longitude 58° west. This was
stale news, but the earliest, of a positive nature, which he had
received. He, therefore, passed the Straits of Gibraltar, and at first
went to the westward, but afterwards he went off Cape St. Vincent, to
be ready to steer in any direction that circumstances might direct. On
the third day of August the English fleet was in 39° north, and 16°
west longitude.

Here Lord Nelson got some information from an American merchant ship,
which had taken the log of a vessel which had been set on fire and
abandoned, but not destroyed, and, from a scrap of paper containing a
reckoning, he derived the fact that the vessel had been taken by the
French fleet.

Nelson then proceeded north, but finding no news, either from Admiral
Cornwallis, off Ushant, or the Channel fleet, proceeded, with the
Victory, and another ship, to Portsmouth, leaving the rest of his fleet
as a reinforcement to the Channel fleet.

In the meantime the combined fleet had had a most important action,
on July 22d, with Sir Robert Calder’s squadron, between Ferrol and
Finisterre, not necessary to be here gone into. It was a sort of drawn
battle, with numbers in favor of the French. Sir Robert Calder was much
blamed for the result.

Napoleon was terribly vexed that Villeneuve had not rendered a better
account of Sir Robert Calder’s fleet, to which he was superior.

Bonaparte said that “Villeneuve was one of those men who require more
spur than bridle,” and asked if it “would not be possible to find, in
the navy, an enterprising man, with cool views, as one ought to see,
either in battle, or in the manœuvres of a fleet.”

Villeneuve was ordered to go to Brest; but, in spite of that, went
to Cadiz, the details of the reasons and movements being too long
to be recounted here. The Emperor was furious, and charged him with
dereliction in duty, disobedience of orders, refusing to fight the
enemy, etc.

Part of Bonaparte’s vexation with Villeneuve no doubt arose from the
loud complaints of the Spaniards, at having lost two ships in Calder’s
action; and this was aggravated by the apparent unwillingness of the
French Admiral, even with a powerful fleet under his command, to sail
out, in the face of eleven English sail-of-the-line, cruising off
Cadiz; and so enable the Spanish squadron at Carthagena to form a
junction with Admiral Gravina, who commanded the Spanish portion of the
allied fleet.

The fact is, to quote a French authority, “Villeneuve, like others,
was impressed by the inferiority of the French marine, in comparison
with the English. The French seamen, brave enough, but inexperienced
at sea, looked with a sort of terror upon the necessity of meeting the
redoubtable victor of Aboukir, knowing well his genius and audacity,
commanding, as he did, a well prepared fleet and thoroughly drilled
and sea-hardened crews. Villeneuve’s personal courage is above
suspicion, but he lacked energy, decision, and power of organization.
Exasperated by the reply of the Emperor, who accused him of cowardice,
in consequence of his perpetual hesitations, Villeneuve replied to
the Minister of Marine, in these bitter words, “If all the French
Navy lacks is audacity, as is pretended, the Emperor will soon be
satisfied; and he may count upon brilliant successes.”

On September 17th, 1805, Napoleon directed his Minister of Marine to
order Villeneuve to sea, on a new expedition. He was to proceed off
Naples, and disembark, at some point on the coast, a number of troops,
in order that they might join the army of General St. Cyr. He was then
to proceed to Naples, and capture the English ship Excellent, and a
Russian ship-of-the-line, lying there; to do all possible injury to
English trade; to intercept an expedition bound to Malta; and then to
come to Toulon, where everything was to be ready to re-victual and
repair his ships.

Napoleon seemed to have feared the failure of Villeneuve to carry out
these orders; and had actually ordered Vice-Admiral Rosily to supercede
him. But the fact remains that Villeneuve’s written orders had always
been to avoid an engagement, and at last to bring his fleet, fresh and
entire, into the British Channel. In his movements he was, moreover,
retarded by the supineness of the Spaniards, who, when their long
voyage to the West Indies was over, felt inclined to remain snugly in
port.

In the meantime, Vice-Admiral Collingwood, off Cadiz, was joined by
four sail-of-the-line, under Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bickerton; and
soon after by seventeen more, under Sir Robert Calder, in the Prince of
Wales.

Some of these ships were occasionally detached to Gibraltar, for water
and provisions; and with the rest Collingwood continued to cruise
before Cadiz. On the 28th of September, Lord Nelson arrived, to take
command of the English fleet; having left Portsmouth in the Victory, on
the fifteenth. The Ajax and Thunderer, line-of-battle ships, had come
with him.

The Euryalus frigate had preceded him, to inform Collingwood that,
on his assuming command again, no salute should be fired, or flags
displayed, in order that the Allies should not be apprised of the
arrival of a reinforcement.

The force under Lord Nelson now consisted of twenty-seven
sail-of-the-line, twenty-two of which cruised about fifteen miles
off Cadiz; and the remaining five, under Rear-Admiral Louis, in the
Canopus, were stationed close off the harbor, watching the motions of
the combined fleet. Lord Nelson considered that if he kept the main
body of his fleet out of sight of land, the French Admiral, being
ignorant of the exact British force, might perhaps put to sea, so that
he kept the bulk of his fleet at a long distance west of Cadiz.

The force close in with the city was then relieved by two frigates, the
only ships left there. Beyond these, further out, and at a convenient
distance for signalling, were three or four ships-of-the-line, the
westernmost of which could communicate directly with the easternmost
ship of the main body.

The new station of the English fleet had a great advantage in case of
westerly gales, usual at that season, as they would not be forced into
the Mediterranean; in which event the combined fleet, on the first
change of wind, might easily put to sea, unmolested.

On October 1st, the Euryalus frigate reconnoitred the port of Cadiz,
and plainly discovered, at anchor in the outer harbor, and apparently
ready for sea, eighteen French, and sixteen Spanish ships-of-the-line,
frigates and two brigs.

The next day Lord Nelson sent Rear-Admiral Louis with five
sail-of-the-line, to Gibraltar, for provisions and water; and on the
same day, a Swedish ship, from Cadiz, bound to Alicante, informed the
Euryalus that the combined fleet had reëmbarked the troops a day or
two before, and intended to put to sea the first easterly wind.

Rear-Admiral Louis got this intelligence on the 3d of October, and at
once returned to the main fleet with his squadron; but Lord Nelson,
conceiving the news to be a stratagem to draw him nearer to Cadiz, so
as to obtain a knowledge of his force, ordered Louis to proceed in the
execution of his orders.

On the 4th the weather was very calm, and some Spanish gunboats pulled
out from Cadiz and attacked the two English frigates which were on duty
close in; but they soon retired again. By the 8th of October two more
line-of-battle-ships had joined the English fleet, and the same day the
Euryalus again counted thirty-four sail-of-the-line in Cadiz harbor.

The possibility that the Cadiz, Carthagena and Rochefort ships
might effect a junction, and thereby present a force of forty-six
sail-of-the-line, induced Lord Nelson to draw up and transmit to his
second in command a plan of attack in which he supposed that, by the
junction of a squadron under Sir Richard Strachan, and other ships,
from Gibraltar and elsewhere, he might be able to assemble a force of
forty sail-of-the-line.

His plan was regarded by naval men as a master-piece of naval strategy,
and agreed in principle with that pursued in the great battle then
impending. Condensed, it was as follows: Taking it for granted that
it was next to impossible to form a fleet of forty sail-of-the-line
in line of battle, with varying winds, thick weather, and other
difficulties which might arise, without so much delay that the
opportunity would probably be lost of bringing the enemy to battle in
such a manner as to render it decisive, Lord Nelson resolved to keep
the fleet in such a position that, with the exception of the first and
second in command, the order of sailing would be the order of battle.
The fleet was to be placed in two lines, of sixteen ships each, with an
advanced squadron of eight of the fastest sailing, two-decked ships,
which latter would always make, if wanted, a line of twenty-four sail,
on any line the Commander-in-chief might direct.

The second in command would, after this latter intention was made
known to him, have the entire direction of his line, and was to make
the attack, and to follow up the blow, until the enemy’s ships were
captured or destroyed.

Should the enemy’s fleet--supposed to consist of forty-six
sail-of-the-line, be seen to windward, in line of battle, and the two
British lines and the advanced squadron be able to fetch it, the ships
of the former would probably be so extended that their van could not
succor their rear.

The English second in command would then probably be signalled to lead
through, at about the twelfth ship from the enemy’s rear, or wherever
he could fetch, if not able to advance so far.

The Commander-in-chief’s line would lead through at the centre, and the
advanced squadron cut through at about three or four ships ahead of the
centre, so as to ensure getting at the enemy’s Commander-in-chief, whom
every effort should be used to capture.

The whole impression of the British fleet was to be made to overpower
from two to three ships ahead of the enemy’s Commander-in-chief
(supposed to be in the centre) to the rear of his fleet.

Admitting twenty sail of the enemy’s line to be untouched, it would be
some time before they could perform a manœuvre, so as to bring their
force compact, to attack any part of the British fleet engaged, or to
succor their companions; and this they could not do without mixing with
the ships engaged.

If it happened that the two fleets were of less force than here
contemplated, a proportionate number only of the enemy’s fleet were to
be cut off, and the British were to be one-fourth superior to the enemy
so cut off.

Lord Nelson, making due allowance for what chance might effect, looked
with confidence to a victory, before the van of the enemy could succor
his rear; and then he expected that the British ships would most of
them be ready to receive the enemy’s other twenty sail, or to pursue
them, should they endeavor to make off.

If the van of the enemy tacked, the captured ships were to run to
leeward of the British fleet; if the enemy wore, the British were to
place themselves between the enemy and the captured, as well as their
own disabled ships; and should the enemy close, his Lordship made no
doubt of the result.

The second in command was to direct the movements of his line and to
keep the ships as compact as circumstances permitted. Captains were to
look to their own line as their rallying point; but, in case signals
could neither be seen nor perfectly understood, _no captain could do
wrong who placed his ship close alongside that of an enemy_.

So far with regard to the attack from to leeward. Next followed the
plan of attack from to windward.

Supposing the enemy formed in line-of-battle to receive the British
fleet, the three divisions of the latter were to be brought nearly
within gun-shot of the enemy’s centre, when the signal would most
likely be made for the lee line to bear up together, under all sail, in
order to reach the enemy’s line as quickly as possible, and then to cut
through; beginning at the twelfth ship from the enemy’s rear.

Some ships might not get through at their exact place, but they would
always be at hand, to assist their friends; and if any British ships
were thrown round the rear of the enemy, they would, it was considered,
effectually complete the business of twelve of the enemy’s ships.

Should the enemy wear together, or bear up, and sail large, still the
twelve ships of the enemy’s rear were to be the object of attack of the
British lee line, unless otherwise directed by the Commander-in-chief,
an interference not contemplated in the plan, as the entire management
of the lee line, after the Commander-in-chief had signalized his
intentions, was to be left to the judgment of the Admiral commanding
that line.

The remainder of the English fleet were to be left to the management of
the Commander-in-chief; who, as he rather modestly expressed himself,
would endeavor to take care that the movements of the second in command
were as little as possible interrupted.

This plan and instructions have been given rather at length, because
they have always been looked upon as models, and have been copied into
foreign historical works, and adopted upon several other occasions.

Cadiz became much straightened for provisions, in consequence of
having so large a fleet to victual. To remedy this evil, especially in
regard to his own fleet, Napoleon had ordered shipments to be made to
Nantes, Bordeaux, and other ports in the Bay of Biscay. The carriers
were vessels under the Danish flag, that landed their cargoes at small
ports in the south of Spain, whence they were easily conveyed to
Cadiz. As some check to this, a vigorous blockade had been adopted by
Collingwood, and maintained by his successor who considered it a more
likely way of driving the combined fleets to sea than a bombardment of
Congreve rockets, as had at one time been contemplated. The arrival
of a number of frigates enabled Nelson to prosecute this blockade
of the coasting trade more successfully. On the 10th of October two
line-of-battle ships, and on the 13th two more, joined Nelson; and he
had now twenty-nine sail-of-the-line off Cadiz, and five at Gibraltar.
This was the highest number his fleet reached.

On the 10th the allied fleet had moved out to the entrance of
the harbor, and evinced a disposition to put to sea at the first
opportunity.

Four days after, Lord Nelson was obliged, owing to orders from England,
to send there Sir Robert Calder, in the Prince of Wales; and on the
17th was obliged to send the Donegal to Gibraltar, for water. This
done, he had twenty-seven sail-of-the-line (not all in very good order,
or well manned), four frigates, a schooner, and a cutter. There were
in his fleet three 100-gun ships; the Victory, his own flag-ship;
the Royal Sovereign, Vice-Admiral Collingwood; and the Britannia,
Rear-Admiral the Earl of Northesk. Then came four 98-gun ships; one 80,
sixteen 74s, and three 64s, which formed the line-of-battle.

On the very day on which Lord Nelson took command of the fleet a
courier had arrived at Cadiz, with the order of the French Emperor
for Villeneuve to put to sea. These orders had been issued about the
middle of September, and required that the French ships should pass the
Straits of Gibraltar, land the troops on the Neapolitan coast, sweep
the Mediterranean of all British commerce and cruisers, and then enter
Toulon, to re-fit and re-victual.

Although Villeneuve’s instructions contained no mention of the
Spanish fleet, it is natural to suppose that they would be glad to
avail themselves of the exit of a formidable French fleet to effect a
junction with seven sail-of-the-line of theirs, which were blockaded
in the port of Carthagena. Every exertion was, therefore, made to fill
the complements of the fleet, which had otherwise been ready for some
time. Of the vessels which had been in Sir Robert Calder’s action,
one, the Argonauta, had been repaired and refitted, but the damage to
the other, the Terrible, proved of so serious a nature that she was
disarmed, and her crew divided among the short-manned ships.

All these details may seem tedious, but are necessary to a correct
understanding of this, the most important naval battle of the century.

To return a little. On the 10th of October, the French troops having
re-embarked, the combined fleet moved to the entrance of Cadiz harbor,
to be ready for a start at a moment’s warning. Hard westerly gales
continued until the 17th. At midnight of that date the wind shifted to
the eastward, and on the 18th of October Admiral Villeneuve informed
the Spanish Admiral Gravina of his intention to put to sea on the
following day; and had a strong line of gunboats drawn up across the
mouth of the harbor.

On October 19th the Allied fleets, by signal from the
Commander-in-chief, began getting under way, at seven o’clock in
the morning. There was a fair breeze, but light, and the British
reconnoitring frigates at once saw and reported the movement. Owing
to the light wind, only twelve ships got out, and these lay becalmed
until afternoon, when a breeze sprang up from the west-north-west,
and the twelve stood to the northward, accompanied closely by the two
English frigates on guard. At daylight the next morning the rest of the
combined fleet left Cadiz, making, with the twelve already outside,
thirty-three sail-of-the-line, five frigates, and two brigs. They had
a light southeast wind, while the ships in the offing, as is frequently
the case on this coast, had the wind south-southwest.

The French had four 80-gun ships, and fourteen 74s, with the frigates
and brigs. The Spanish had one 130-gun ship; two of 112 guns; one 100;
two 80s; eight 74s, and one 64.

Villeneuve’s flag-ship was the Bucentaure, 80, and Gravina’s the
Principe de Asturias, 112.

Scarcely had the fleet cleared the harbor when a southwest wind and
thick weather began to delay their progress. Meantime the two English
frigates carefully watched their every manœuvre.

The first effect of the thick weather was that the English ship
Agamemnon, with a merchant brig in tow, was unconsciously running into
the midst of the enemy’s ships, but was, after some difficulty, warned
off by the frigates. Then one of the English frigates was in danger of
capture by her stopping too long to examine an American ship; she was
chased and fired upon.

In the afternoon the weather cleared, and the wind shifted to
north-northwest; whereupon Admiral Villeneuve ordered his fleet to form
in five columns, in accordance with a plan previously communicated to
his Admirals and Captains.

The Allied fleet then divided itself into two parts. The first part
was of twenty-one sail, and was denominated the line-of-battle, and
this was again subdivided into three squadrons, of seven ships each;
of which the centre was commanded by Villeneuve himself; the van by
Vice-Admiral Alava; and the rear by Rear-Admiral Dumanoir.

The second part of the Allied fleet, the reserve, was divided into two
squadrons, of six ships each, the first under Admiral Gravina, and the
second under Rear-Admiral Magon.

Villeneuve’s instructions to these officers were as follows: in case
of being to windward, the line to bear down together, and each ship
to engage her opponent in the English line; to engage closely, and to
board, if possible.

If, on the contrary, the English fleet was to windward, the allied
fleet was to await attack in close order of battle.

The French Admiral said, “the enemy will not confine himself to forming
a line-of-battle parallel to ours, and engage us with his cannon, when
success often attends the most skillful, and always the most fortunate;
he will endeavor to turn our rear, to pass through our line, and will
endeavor to surround such of our ships as he succeeds in cutting off,
and reduce them with numbers of his own.”

Villeneuve adds “there is nothing to alarm us in the sight of the
English fleet; their 74-gun ships have not five hundred men on board;
their seamen are harassed by a two years’ cruise; they are not more
brave than we; and have infinitely less motives to fight well, and have
less love of country. They are skillful at manœuvring. In a month we
shall be as much so as they are. In fine, everything unites to inspire
us with hopes of the most glorious success, and of a new era for the
Imperial marine.”

The most remarkable feature of the French Admiral’s plan was, that it
persisted in ordering the movements of his fleet to be conducted in
close line-of-battle, even while he admits that his enemy will adopt
a different mode of attack, that of cutting off the rear of the line,
and making it an easy conquest. Such, however, was the ancient rule of
sea-tactics, and France had not yet had a Rodney to break through them.

Shortly after the combined Fleet had formed in five columns, one of
their advanced frigates made the signal for eighteen sail of British
ships in sight. On this the fleet, still on the port tack, cleared for
action, and at about five P. M. tacked, and stood for the mouth of the
Straits of Gibraltar. They had continued so long on the other tack that
Lord Nelson thought it was Villeneuve’s intention to proceed to the
westward.

About this time the four British frigates came down to reconnoitre,
and were chased by some of the Allied fleet, which latter, however,
rejoined the main body at nightfall.

Just before dark the French ship Aigle made signal for eighteen British
ships in line-of-battle, to the southward; and shortly after the
combined fleet wore and stood to the northwest.

On the 21st, a little before daylight, the French Admiral, abandoning
his plan of forming line-of-battle of twenty-one ships (as the enemy
were now to windward, and of nearly equal force to himself), ordered
the three columns, composed of the twenty-one ships, without regard
to priority of rank among them, to form in close line-of-battle, on
the starboard tack, upon the leewardmost division of twelve ships, and
then to steer southeast. The manœuvre executed, daylight found the two
fleets fairly in sight of each other, for the first time. The centre of
the Franco-Spanish fleet bearing about east by south of the centre of
the British, and distant about ten miles.

The wind was then light, from west-northwest, and a heavy swell setting
in from the westward.

Let us now look at the movements of the British fleet during the
period just before the momentous battle now impending.

About half-past nine A. M., on the 19th, while the British fleet was
lying to, fifty miles west-southwest from Cadiz, the line-of-battle
ships which formed the cordon of communication between the fleet and
the reconnoitring frigates, inshore, repeated the signal that the enemy
was coming out of port.

Lord Nelson immediately made sail to the southeast with light breezes,
mostly from south-southwest. At three P. M. the signal was repeated,
that the enemy was at sea.

That afternoon Lord Nelson directed that the fleet should observe the
motions of his flag-ship, the Victory, during the night, and that the
best sailing ships should stand ahead, and steer for the mouth of the
Straits.

On the 20th of October, at daylight, the English found themselves near
the entrance of the Straits, but saw nothing of their enemy.

Thereupon the fleet wore, and made sail to the northwest, with a fresh
breeze at south-southwest.

At seven A. M., one of the frigates signalled the Allied fleet, bearing
north; and by noon the Victory and the English fleet were within
twenty-five miles of Cadiz, standing to the west-northwest, on the port
tack.

Early in the afternoon they were taken aback, by a breeze from the
west-northwest, and at 4 P. M. wore, and again came to, on the port
tack, steering north.

It was now telegraphed that the Allied fleet seemed determined to go to
the westward, and Lord Nelson replied that he relied on the frigates
keeping them in sight during the night. The frigates then signalled
“thirty-one sail of the enemy, bearing north-northeast.”

When night fell the British fleet wore, and stood to the southwest,
and at 4 A. M. of the 21st wore again, and steered north by east, under
easy sail.

To the general reader these details of manœuvres, (which precede any
great battle, whether on sea or land), may appear tedious, but it is
absolutely necessary to a description of this great event, and could
not be omitted by any one who tried to give an account of the battle.

At six in the morning the flag-ship Victory had a view of the combined
fleet, bearing about east by south, distant, as has been said in the
account of the manœuvres of the Franco-Spanish fleet, about ten or
twelve miles.

At this time Nelson was about twenty miles from Cape Trafalgar, which
bore east by south.

Soon after this the English fleet, by signal, formed in two columns, in
the order of sailing, and bore up to the eastward, under all sail.

This was according to Nelson’s previous orders; to avoid delay and
inconvenience of forming line-of-battle in the usual manner.

THE BATTLE.

The near approach of the British fleet rendering an action unavoidable,
the French Admiral, at 8.30 in the morning, made signal for his ships
to wear together, and form line, in close order, on the port tack.

This brought the port of Cadiz on his lee bow.

It was fully ten in the morning before this manœuvre, involving so many
great ships, and such a long line, was completed; and even then, from
the light and flawy wind, the line was not very regularly formed.

Accounts differ as to how the ships were disposed in the Allied line.

Lord Collingwood said that the French ships had an unusual arrangement.
They formed a crescent, convexing to leeward, “so that, in leading
down their centre, I had both their van and rear abaft the beam. Before
the fire opened, every alternate ship was about a cable’s length to
windward of her second ahead and astern, forming a kind of double line,
and appeared, when on their beam, to leave very little interval between
them, and this without crowding their ships.”

The French and English accounts and plans of the battle are all rather
incompatible with the facts of the action, as developed; and were all,
most probably, drawn from memory and influenced by impressions.

Lord Collingwood’s is, probably, the only simple and straightforward
one.

Owing to the lightness of the wind, the English fleet, after bearing
up, made very slow progress toward their enemy. These great two and
three-deckers were ponderous affairs, and required a strong breeze to
move them.

At the joint suggestion of Captains Hardy and Blackwood, Nelson
reluctantly consented that the Téméraire and Leviathan should precede
the Victory in going into action; and he himself gave orders to that
effect to the first-named ship, which was then just abreast of the
Victory, but, it was thought, at too great a distance to understand
perfectly the purport of Lord Nelson’s hail.

Captain Hardy, Nelson’s flag-Captain, therefore, went, in his boat, on
board the Téméraire, and gave Captain Harvey the Commander-in-chief’s
orders. But then the utmost endeavor of the Téméraire to pass ahead of
the Victory was frustrated by the latter’s carrying all the sail she
could set.

No one ventured to suggest shortening sail to Nelson, when going
into battle; and he was just then finding fault with the officer of
the Victory’s forecastle, for not setting the lee studding-sail in a
smarter manner.

Subsequently, when it became necessary to keep in line, for mutual
support, the Victory signalled the Téméraire to resume her station
astern of the flag-ship. Thus the Victory led the Téméraire into the
enemy’s line, after all.

The manner in which the combined fleet now lay, with a home port only
twenty-five miles off, on their lee bow, induced Nelson, about eleven
in the morning, to telegraph, “I intend to pass through the end of the
enemy’s line, to prevent them from getting into Cadiz.”

The reversed order of that line had, with the wind prevailing, produced
an effect to be guarded against. It had brought the shoals of San Pedro
and Trafalgar under the lee of both fleets. Accordingly, at half-past
eleven, the Victory made signal to the British fleet to prepare to
anchor at the close of the day.

At that time the cables were of hemp, and required a long time to
range, and prepare for letting go. They were, in such ships, of immense
size. We shall see how Nelson’s sailor instinct taught him what was to
save his fleet after the battle, although he was not to see it.

This signal having been made, no other seemed necessary, and all they
had to do was to wait for the battle to open.

But, a little before noon, Nelson telegraphed again. This time it was
his celebrated message, “England expects that every man will do his
duty.” He had dictated “confides,” but the word not being in the signal
book, the signal lieutenant suggested “expects,” and Nelson adopted it.

This signal was greeted with three cheers from all the ships, as they
were slowly bearing down upon their enemy, and aroused the utmost
enthusiasm.

They by degrees got so close that, at noon, the French ship Fougueux
opened fire upon the Royal Sovereign (Collingwood’s flag-ship), then
upon her port bow and well within shot. Immediately upon the first
gun-shot, the three British Admirals hoisted their respective flags,
and the rest of the ships the white, or St. George’s ensign, a measure
adopted to prevent any confusion, in the heat of action, from a variety
of national flags.

Each British ship also carried a union-jack at her main-top-mast stay,
and another at her fore-top-gallant stay. The combined fleet hoisted
their ensigns then, and their Admirals their flags.

Soon after the Fougueux and the ships next ahead and astern of her had
opened fire the Royal Sovereign returned it, but Nelson made signal to
engage more closely, and Collingwood ceased firing.

Soon after midday Collingwood had reached a position close astern of
the Santa Anna, 112, and fired into her, with double-shotted guns,
and with such precision that, by the subsequent admission of Spanish
officers, she killed or wounded nearly four hundred of her crew. With
the starboard broadside similarly shotted, the Royal Sovereign raked
the Fougueux, but, owing to distance, with less effect. In a short time
the British ship Belleisle followed through the combined line, which,
owing to some of the ships astern of the Fougueux pressing forward to
support the centre, while others kept their sails aback, or shivering,
was fast losing the tolerably regular form it had had.

It was about this time that Nelson said, “See that noble fellow,
Collingwood, how he carries his ship into action!” while Collingwood
was remarking to his flag-Captain, “what Nelson would give to be here!”

The British lee column approached its enemy in such a slanting
direction that it enabled most of them to discharge their starboard
guns at the enemy’s rear, and an interchange of animated firing took
place, the smoke from which, for lack of a strong breeze to carry it
off, spread over the combatants, and increased the confusion into which
the rear of the combined line had already been thrown, by the crashing
charge upon its centre.

Twenty minutes after the Fougueux had opened fire upon the Royal
Sovereign, and shortly after the latter had passed under the stern of
the Santa Anna, the Bucentaure (Villeneuve’s flag-ship) fired a shot
at the Victory, which latter had studding-sails set on both sides, and
was going through the water very slowly. The shot fell short. Another
fell alongside, after an interval, and then a third passed through the
Victory’s main-top gallant sail. Things were getting warm, but the
Victory did not immediately reply; and a minute or two of awful silence
followed, the ships _creeping_ together, and then, almost as if by
signal, the whole Allied van opened fire upon the Victory, conspicuous
from bearing Nelson’s flag. Such a fire has seldom been directed at a
single ship. Almost immediately a round shot killed Nelson’s Secretary,
Mr. Scott, while he was conversing with Captain Hardy. Shortly after
a double-headed shot killed eight marines on the poop of the Victory,
on which the Admiral ordered Captain Adair, the Marine Officer, to
disperse his men around the ship, so that they should not suffer from
being drawn up together. Presently a shot came through a thickness
of four hammocks, carried away a part of the launch, as she lay on
the booms, struck the fore-brace bitts on the quarter-deck, and then
passed between Lord Nelson and Hardy. A splinter from the bitts tore
the buckle from one of Nelson’s shoes. Dr. Beatty, the Surgeon of the
Victory, says “they both instantly stopped, and were observed by
the officers on deck to survey each other with inquiring looks, each
supposing the other to be wounded. His Lordship smiled, and said ‘This
is too warm work, Hardy, to last long!’ and he soon after declared
to Captain Hardy that, in all his battles, he had never seen cooler
courage displayed than that by the Victory’s men, on this occasion.” To
be sure, they were fighting under Nelson’s own eye, and well-drilled
men can stand almost any fire when well commanded.

The Allied ships directly ahead of the British weather column, seeing,
by her movements, that the Victory was about to follow the example of
the Royal Sovereign, closed up around her. The Bucentaure came up near
the huge Santissima Trinidada, 130, but still left a small opening
between herself and the latter. In hopes of passing through this
interval in the line, Lord Nelson himself ordered the man at the wheel
to steer east by south.

The Victory, by the change thus made in her course, having brought her
port guns to bear upon the combined van, commenced firing from that
side. She had already, from the concentrated fire she had encountered,
lost twenty officers and men killed, and thirty wounded. This loss
would have been greater had not the enemy endeavored to disable her by
aiming rather at her spars and rigging. In consequence of this every
studding-sail boom, on both sides, had been shot away, and every sail
riddled.

This shows that if the centre and rear of the Allies had opened fire
earlier upon the Royal Sovereign, as she went in, they would, probably,
have entirely disabled her.

The Victory, as she moved slowly along, in a slanting direction,
kept her port broadside playing upon the Santissima Trinidada and
the Bucentaure, and was ably seconded by the Téméraire, Captain
Harvey, which ship still kept close astern of her. In a few minutes
the Victory’s mizzen-top-mast was shot away; and soon after her wheel
was destroyed, and the ship had to be steered, during the rest of the
action, in the gun-room, the First-Lieutenant and Master relieving
each other at that duty. All this happened in about a quarter of
an hour after she had opened fire, and she now found herself close
abreast of the narrow opening between the Spanish four-decker and the
French Commander-in-chief, the precise spot where Nelson wished to
cut the combined line. Just as the Victory was slowly passing astern
of the great Spanish ship, with the intention of hauling up under
her lee, the Bucentaure ranged ahead, and placed herself upon the
four-decker’s starboard quarter. Captain Hardy now pointed out to
Nelson the impossibility of passing through the line without running
on board one of the enemy’s ships. Lord Nelson replied, “I can’t help
it; it does not signify which we run on board of. Go on board which you
please; take your choice.” The Victory, with helm hard a-port, steered
for the Redoutable, which had gallantly come to fill a gap caused by
the falling to leeward of the French Neptune. (There was a Neptune in
each fleet.) Righting her helm--she had just steerage way--the Victory
poured a raking fire into the Bucentaure and the Santissima Trinidada,
and received a raking fire from the French Neptune, which then set her
jib to keep clear.

On coming slowly to the wind the Victory drifted on board the
Redoutable, but not until she had given her a broadside, and received
some shot in return. The Redoutable then shut her lower deck ports,
apparently to prevent the English from boarding through them, and did
not again fire a gun from her port side.

The ships came together very gently, and were in the act of rebounding,
when the Victory’s starboard fore-yard-arm caught the leech of the
Redoutable’s fore-topsail. This kept them together for a time, and,
with the muzzles of their guns almost touching, the two ships fell off
before the wind.

Having accompanied Lord Nelson so far, let us now take a general view
of the battle.

Soon after the first four ships of the British lee division had cut the
centre and rear of the combined line, the remainder, as they came up
in succession, pierced the mass of the Allied ships (for they were no
longer in line), and then found opponents as they could.

Meantime the weather division had cut through a little ahead of the
centre of the combined line. The action, which had begun at noon, was
at its height at about half-past one. At three the fire had begun to
slacken; and at five had entirely ceased.

Of the eleven van ships of the Allies, including the huge Sta.
Trinidada, only one was captured in her proper place; the remaining
ten were out of line. Of the latter, three were captured and seven
escaped; four by hauling to windward, and then by running for Cadiz. Of
their ten centre ships, five were taken in their line of battle, and
five escaped into Cadiz; and of the twelve rear ships, nine, including
one burnt, were taken, and three escaped into Cadiz. This made, as the
result of the day’s proceedings, nine French ships of the line captured
or burnt, and nine Spanish ships of the line captured; total eighteen.
The French and Spanish ships which escaped were many of them much
shattered.

It is impossible to give details of the separate action of so many
ships, or of the losses they sustained, without being tedious. But
it may be interesting to give some idea of the French view of the
battle--previous to speaking of the death of Nelson.

We now quote from a French source. After enumerating the combined
fleet, and its mode of formation, the account goes on to say, that
“the vessels” (of the Allies) were most of them rather antiquated,
especially the Spanish vessels, and unfitted for the new tactics
introduced by Nelson. Soon after going out the two fleets sighted
each other off Cape Trafalgar--that low point formerly called by the
ancients the promontory of Juno.

“The English Admiral had but twenty-seven sail-of-the-line, but his
guns were superior in calibre to those of the Allies. They had,
moreover, much greater nautical experience, and a great leader,
conditions of success which the Allies could not claim.” “Villeneuve
formed a single line of battle. Nelson formed in two columns, to cut
this line, and then expected to conquer the separate parts in detail.”
* * * * * *

“October 21st, at eleven A. M., the two fleets came together, and one
of the most destructive naval battles ever fought ensued. * * * The
English were full of confidence and enthusiasm. * * * Nelson himself
set the example. Outsailing his division, he dashed the Victory
against the Allied line, in spite of the concentrated broadsides
poured upon him. * * * He attempted to take the Bucentaure, the
flag-ship of Villeneuve, and for that purpose tried to get in between
her and another French ship, the Redoutable, commanded by the brave
Captain Lucas. Lucas divined his intentions, and hastened to bar the
Victory’s way. But Nelson was not the man to be deterred by odds, and
immediately laid his ship alongside the Redoutable, and boarded her.
Lashed alongside, the two ships fell out of line, fighting.” It is not
very often that accounts from opposite sides agree so closely as the
foregoing account.

“The ship’s company of the Redoutable bravely accepted the unequal
combat. From the tops, as well as from the batteries, they answered
the fire of the English, and, in this singular fight, one rather of
musketry than of great guns, the French had rather the advantage.”
“The decks of the Victory were burdened with the dead. In the midst of
the noise and confusion, and smoke of combat, Nelson and Captain Hardy
walked the poop. Not far from them a few men were exchanging a brisk
musketry fire with those in the tops of the French ship. Suddenly the
Admiral staggered and fell, with his face to the deck. A ball fired
from the mizzen-top of the Redoutable had struck his left shoulder,
passing through the epaulette, then through the chest, and lodging in
the dorsal vertebræ.” Admiral Jurien de la Gravière says, “They picked
him up at once, the decks being covered with his blood. Hardy, who had
not seen him fall, turned, and, paler than Nelson himself, cried, ‘I
hope, my Lord, that you are not dangerously wounded!’ ‘They have done
for me,’ he answered; ‘they have succeeded at last; the spine of my
back is broken.’”

Thiers, in his history, gives a rather different account, only
interesting as showing the way in which this important event was
reported by the French. “Nelson, dressed in a coat which he always wore
on days of battle, and having at his side his flag-captain, Hardy,
seemed to delight in exposing himself. His Secretary had already been
killed just beside him. Captain Hardy had had one of his shoe buckles
shot away, and a bar shot had killed eight men at once on the poop.
The great seaman, just object of both hatred and admiration to us,
impassable upon his poop, was looking calmly on at the horrible scene,
when a bullet from one of the tops of the Redoutable struck him on the
left shoulder, and passing on, lodged in his loins. Sinking to his
knees he fell forward, endeavoring to sustain himself by his hands. In
falling he said, ‘Hardy, the Frenchmen have finished me.’ ‘Not yet, I
hope,’ said Hardy. ‘Yes! I am dying,’ said Nelson. They carried him to
the cockpit, but he had already almost lost consciousness, and it was
evident he had but a short time to live. Recovering his consciousness
at intervals, he asked how the battle went; and repeated the directions
which afterwards proved his foresight: ‘Anchor! anchor the fleet
before evening.’” He soon died, but he had the consolation of knowing,
before he did so, that his triumph was certain. To continue the French
account: “This bloody episode naturally created disorder on board the
Victory, and Captain Lucas, of the Redoutable, without knowing the
cause, wished to profit by it to board the English ship. The boarders
were already called away, when a broadside of grape from the Téméraire
laid low two hundred of them, either killed or wounded. At the same
time another English ship, the Neptune, fired into the Redoutable’s
poop, and reduced her to a deplorable condition. Two of her masts fell
upon the deck, her guns were in great part dismounted, and one of her
sides almost beaten in, by which the water entered in torrents. All her
staff was wounded, ten out of eleven midshipmen mortally wounded, while
522 men out of 640 were either killed or wounded, and, being unable to
resist longer, they were obliged to strike.”

To continue the French account: “The other French ships, in equal
straits, were menaced with the same fate, although their crews, as well
as those of the Spanish fleet, showed no lack of courage. The English
guns, ably and perfectly served, made havoc with their enemy, whose
ships, as has been said, were deficient in condition.

“The Bucentaure, attacked by several ships at once, all of whom looked
upon her as their special prize, had fouled and caught her bowsprit in
the gallery of the Spanish ship Santissima Trinidada, and was incapable
of getting clear. In this position she soon had her decks swept, and
lay at the mercy of the enemy, with great gaps in her starboard side,
her poop demolished, her masts gone by the board, her officers and crew
decimated. ‘My business on board the Bucentaure is finished,’ cried
the unfortunate Villeneuve; ‘I will try to bring back good fortune on
board of another vessel.’ But not a boat was able to swim, and it was
impossible for him to leave the Bucentaure.”

M. Thiers says that the French Admiral thus found himself upon a
sinking ship, incapable of taking either the offensive or defensive,
unable to transmit orders or to do anything to save the fleet which had
been entrusted to him, and unable to answer even a shot to those he was
still receiving. In this desperate condition, which could not be worse,
he resigned himself to the sad necessity of striking his flag. This
took place about four in the afternoon.

“An English boat came and took him on board the Mars, where he was
received with all the distinction due to his rank and his courage.”
“The seven vessels of the centre, which Villenueve commanded, were
either captured or disabled. Those at the head of the Allied line had
taken little part in the action, owing to light winds. Rear Admiral
Dumanoir, who commanded them, feared to be compromised uselessly if he
went to the assistance of either Villeneuve or of the rear division,
and he decided not to allow his division to become involved in the
disaster which he deemed irremediable. So he drew off, and his conduct
has been made the subject of more or less hostile criticism, according
as people judged his motives.”

“The vessels of the rear division” (we are still following the French
account), “commanded by Admiral Gravina and Rear-Admiral Magon, carried
on the battle with devoted courage. The Algésiras (flag-ship of the
French Rear-Admiral) made as terribly desperate a defence (_always
defence_) as the Redoutable. Magon had for opponent the Tonnant, a
ship taken from the French, of 80 guns. He was about to board her
when the same misfortune happened which occurred to the Redoutable.
Another English ship raked the Algésiras, sweeping off a large number
of her crew by broadsides of grape. She endeavored to reply to this new
enemy, when a third came and joined them. In this Homeric struggle the
Algésiras for a time fought all three. The Captain of the Tonnant tried
three times to board the Algésiras. Magon himself, at the head of his
crew, boarding-axe in hand, set an example to his men, and his decks
were stained with blood in this hand-to-hand conflict. Conspicuous
for his brilliant uniform, which he refused to lay aside, he was soon
wounded by a musket ball, but remained on deck. A second ball hit him
in the thigh, and feeling faint he allowed himself to be taken below to
have the wound dressed, expecting to return. Unfortunately his ship’s
sides were so battered that grape could readily enter below, and Magon
was hardly below when he was killed by a grape-shot through the chest.

“The sailors of the Algésiras seemed rendered desperate by the news
of his death, but all their courage did not avail. Out of 641 men on
board of her, 150 were killed and 180 wounded. Her masts were gone,
her battery dismounted, and when the English boarded they overran the
ship, and her flag was struck. Admiral Gravina, on board the Principe
d’Asturias, and surrounded by English vessels, fought with the fury of
despair. Holding out well against odds, he gave time to the Neptune and
Pluto to come down to his assistance. Unfortunately, just as this aid
arrived he was mortally wounded.”

“Another episode in this battle of giants marked its termination. The
Achille caught fire, and her crew, instead of attending to that, would
not leave her guns, and she blew up, with tremendous violence.”

“At five in the afternoon the French fleet was either destroyed or
fugitive. Seventeen French and Spanish ships had been taken, and one
blew up. The combined fleet lost six or seven thousand men in killed,
wounded, drowned and prisoners. A more horrible sight has seldom been
seen in a naval battle.

“The English had suffered much. Many of them had lost masts; some
were entirely disabled. They lost about three thousand men, a great
many officers, and Nelson. And this had the effect of moderating the
enthusiasm in England over this great victory. During the following
night a heavy gale arose, as Nelson had foreseen. The English, having
great trouble to take care of themselves, were forced to abandon the
prizes they had in tow, or in company. Many of the prizes were seized
by the prisoners, and, after great effort, succeeded in getting into
Cadiz. The English retained but four of their prizes and Admiral
Villeneuve, whose troubles were not yet ended. The French marine was
almost destroyed, _physically_ and _morally_; and they have hardly
recovered from it at this day.

“Napoleon heard of it when in Germany, in the midst of triumphs, and
‘he never forgave Villeneuve.’ The Admiral was placed at liberty
by the English, and came home in April, 1806, hoping to justify his
conduct. He forwarded a letter to Paris, and soon followed it in
person. But while still on the journey, he received a reply, the
contents of which caused him to give himself six fatal stabs with a
knife, in the region of the heart, causing almost immediate death.”

Having seen how fairly and truthfully, upon the whole, the French have
described some of the incidents of this great battle, let us now return
to some of the details and the result.

It will be remembered that Nelson was urging the Victory into action;
and that vessel being fast-sailing for a line-of-battle ship, would
probably have been, like the Royal Sovereign, far ahead of the ships
in her wake, but that the Téméraire, having on board very little
provisions or water, was what the sailors call “flying light.” This
ship was called the “fighting Téméraire.” She had been taken from the
French, and was commanded in this action by the gallant Captain Eliab
Harvey, a name worthy of a down-east Yankee. She is well known from the
celebrated picture, by Turner, of “The fighting Téméraire towed to her
last berth.”

The great difficulty on the part of the Téméraire was to keep astern
of her leader; and to do this she was obliged frequently to yaw, or to
make a traverse. Hence the Téméraire shared with the Victory--although
not to quite so great an extent--the damage and loss of life sustained
by the head of the weather English column, from the Allies’ heavy and
incessant raking fire.

Shortly after the Victory opened her port guns the Téméraire opened
hers; and when the former put her helm aport, to steer towards the
Redoutable, the Téméraire, to keep clear of her leader, was compelled
to do the same, receiving a fire as she passed the Santissima
Trinidada, that did her much damage.

At last, when the Victory passed through, the Téméraire succeeded.
Meanwhile the Victory had got foul of the Redoutable, and the two ships
payed off to the eastward. The Téméraire had scarcely begun to haul up,
to avoid being raked by the French Neptune, which was in a position to
do so with impunity, when the Téméraire discovered, through the smoke,
the Redoutable driving down on board her. The wind was too light to
work clear of her--and the French Neptune opened on the English ship,
in a raking position, and soon shot away most of her spars. Rendered
unmanageable, the Téméraire could only continue her cannonade of the
Redoutable from her port battery. This she did until the French ship
shut in her lower-deck ports, as we have seen she had already done on
the opposite side; and then she fell on board the Téméraire--the French
ship’s bowsprit passing over the British ship’s gangway, just before
the mizzen-rigging, where, in order to have the benefit of a raking
fire, the Téméraire’s men lashed it. Then they poured in round after
round, with most destructive effect. This fire of the Téméraire is said
to have cost the French ship two hundred in killed and wounded. This
happened just after the Victory and the Téméraire had got clear of each
other--and just after Nelson had received his death wound.

The three ships now lying nearly parallel, the two larger English ships
had the French two-decker lying between them and riddled by their
shot. The English had to use a diminished charge of powder to prevent
their shot from passing through, to injure their friends, and their
guns contained three shot each, and were much depressed. Fire was now
the common enemy of the three ships, grappled together in this dogged
fight. The seamen of the English ships were actually obliged to throw
buckets of water into the holes made by their shot in the Redoutable’s
sides. All this time the Victory’s guns, on the other side, had
continued to play upon the Spanish four-decker, until the English
Neptune came up and took charge of her. “The Redoutable, although she
did not make use of her great guns, kept up a heavy fire of musketry,
both from her decks and from her tops. In each of the latter were one
or two brass cohorn mortars, which she repeatedly discharged, with
great effect, upon the decks of her antagonists. From the diagonal
position of the Redoutable, at the time the Téméraire lashed her to her
gangway, the quarter-deck and the poop of the Victory became greatly
exposed to the top fire of the French ship, whose mizzen-top was just
abaft and rather below the Victory’s main-yard.” About half-past one
a musket ball from this top struck Lord Nelson in the left shoulder,
as, having walked along the middle of the quarter-deck, from abaft, he
was in the act of turning round to the right, near the main hatchway,
to walk back, on the left hand of Captain Hardy, then a step or two in
advance, giving some necessary orders. Dr. Beatty says, “Lord Nelson
fell upon his face, in exactly the same spot where his Secretary had
been killed early in the action; and Scott’s blood not having been
removed, soiled Lord Nelson’s clothes. He was raised at once by three
of the crew, and Captain Hardy, on turning round, became aware of what
had happened. Hardy eagerly said that he hoped he was not severely
wounded, and Nelson replied, ‘They have done for me at last, Hardy!’ ‘I
hope not,’ said Hardy. ‘Yes,’ replied the Admiral, ‘my backbone is shot
through.’ The men, by Captain Hardy’s direction, bore the Admiral to
the cockpit,” where we shall leave him for the present.

Although sure to suffer most from the effects of fire, the Redoutable
continued to throw hand grenades from her tops and yard-arms, some of
which, rebounding, set fire to her fore and main chains and shrouds.
This fire communicated to the Téméraire, but was soon extinguished by
her people.

The Victory’s crew, after putting out a fire on the booms of that
vessel, actually assisted in putting out the flames on board the
Redoutable, throwing buckets of water from their ship.

For a quarter of an hour after Nelson had received his wound the
Victory maintained a steady cannonade at the hull of the Redoutable,
receiving in return a fire of musketry which continued to kill or
wound many officers and men. It was a little after two when the main
and mizzen masts of the French ship fell. This stopped her formidable
musketry, and the two English ships prepared to take possession of her.
The Victory, however, tumbled home so much that, the Frenchman’s ports
being shut, her men could not board. The Téméraire, being French built,
did not tumble in much, and she had, besides, the fallen mizzen-mast as
a bridge--and down the latter the crew of the Téméraire scrambled, and
boarded and took possession of the most gallantly fought French ship.

Then another complication took place. The French ship Fougueux, 74,
after engaging the Royal Sovereign, Belleisle, and Mars, stood slowly
across for the starboard beam of the Téméraire--the latter lying with
her head about east. The object of the Fougueux was probably to pass to
windward of the Téméraire, and rake her; or perhaps to board her--as
the Téméraire’s appearance indicated that she was much disabled--her
colors being then down, from having her gaff carried away. But the
English ship had her starboard broadside in perfect readiness, and
delayed firing until the Fougueux got quite close. Then she fired,
and there was a fearful crash on board the French ship. Crippled and
confused the latter fell on board the Téméraire, and there she was
immediately lashed. Boarders from the Téméraire leaped on board of
her at once--finding her Captain mortally wounded, and some of the
other officers endeavoring to rally the crew to repel boarders. In
ten minutes she was a prize to the Téméraire. Four ships were thus
locked together at once, but the Victory soon disengaged herself, and
lying with her head to the northward, ceased firing, temporarily. She
had been terribly cut up, and had lost fifty-seven killed, and one
hundred and two wounded. The Redoutable, which had occupied the exposed
position, out of a crew of six hundred and forty-three, had lost three
hundred killed, and two hundred and twenty-two wounded--including
nearly all her officers. The Téméraire was much damaged, and her loss
was forty-seven killed and seventy-six wounded. The Fougueux had not
suffered nearly so much as the others.

The Leviathan was the last English ship engaged with the French
Commander-in-chief, which latter, upon hauling down her colors, was
boarded by the Leviathan’s Captain of Marines and five men.

On reaching the Bucentaure’s quarter-deck, M. Villeneuve and the first
and second Captains presented their swords, but the Marine Officer
declined to receive them, and referred them to Captain Pellew, of the
Leviathan. Securing the magazine, and putting the key in his pocket,
and placing sentries at the cabin doors, the Marine Officer pulled
off, with the French Admiral and his two Captains. His own ship had
proceeded in chase and left him, so he took the French officers on
board the Mars--and here they remained prisoners.

And now in regard to the huge four-decker, the Spanish Santissima
Trinidada. At half-past two she had been so sharply handled by
different English ships, that she was dismasted, and lay an
unmanageable wreck. The Neptune being called off by an attack from some
of the ships of the Allied van, the Africa, 64, bore down ahead of the
Sta. Trinidada. Meeting no return to her fire, and seeing no colors
hoisted, the Africa concluded that the four-decker had surrendered, and
sent a boat to take possession.

On the Lieutenant’s reaching the quarter-deck and asking if she
had surrendered, a Spanish officer answered “No,” at the same time
pointing to one Spanish and four French sail-of-the-line then passing
to windward. As, owing to being dismasted, the four-decker was fast
drifting away from the two fleets, the English Lieutenant, who had only
a boat’s crew with him, quitted the ship--being, singularly enough,
permitted to do so--and returned to the Africa.

The Santissima Trinidada then remained without a prize crew until about
half-past five, when the Prince, 98, took her in tow, in obedience to
signal. The great ship’s loss in killed and wounded was very severe,
having sustained, in succession, the raking fire of four different
ships, and her hull, especially her stern and quarters, was dreadfully
shattered.

It is impossible to follow the fortunes of the other ships, interesting
as they are, and remarkable for gallant actions on both sides.

We must, however, mention the collision of the Allied van with some of
the English ships.

At about half-past two the whole of the Allied van, except the Sta.
Trinidada, began to put about, in obedience to a signal from their
Commander-in-chief to come quickly into close action. They did not
comply very readily with the signal; indeed, owing to the light wind,
they could not do so.

When ten ships got round on the starboard tack, five of them (four
French and one Spanish), under Rear Admiral Dumanoir, hauled their
wind, and the other five kept away, as if to join Admiral Gravina, then
to leeward of the rear, in the act of making off. In the height of
this confusion in the combined van, the Britannia, Agamemnon, Orion,
and Ajax got intermingled among the French and Spanish ships that had
put about and were edging away. Quite a spirited fight now took place
between these, and Admiral Dumanoir, with his five ships, interchanged
shots with many of the English.

It was just at this moment that Captain Hardy dispatched a Lieutenant
to Vice-Admiral Collingwood, to inform him that Lord Nelson was wounded.

The hauling to windward of Dumanoir gave the two rear ships of the
English weather squadron, the Minotaur and Spartiate, an opportunity of
exchanging broadsides with the French ships Formidable, Duguay-Trouin,
Mont Blanc and Scipion, while they succeeded in cutting off the rear
ship, the Spanish Neptune, 80, and she was captured, about five P. M.
This was not done without a warm resistance from the Spaniard, which
was the last ship which struck on that eventful day.

The British fleet, in all this five hours’ fighting, had only had 449
killed and 1241 wounded.

While this fleet was securing their disabled and battered prizes, and
getting the latter, as well as themselves, in a state to keep the sea,
and while the more fortunate of the French and Spanish ships were
profiting by the occasion to effect their escape from the scene of
disaster, let us look at the cockpit of the Victory, where lay, dying,
the chief hero of the day.

The manner of receiving his wound has been already described. Dr.
Beatty, who had the ball in his possession, says it was not fired from
a rifled piece, although it was stated, in Southey’s life of Nelson,
that Tyrolean riflemen were posted in the tops of the French ship.

Dr. Beatty says, “While the men were carrying Lord Nelson down the
ladder, from the middle deck, his Lordship observed that the tiller
ropes were not yet replaced, and sent a midshipman to remind Captain
Hardy of the circumstance, and requested that new ones should be
immediately rove. Having given this order, he took his handkerchief
from his pocket and covered his face, that he might not, at this
crisis, be recognized by the crew.” These are most thoughtful and
touching precautions.

When he was dying Captain Hardy came down, with tidings of the victory
being certain. Dr. Beatty says, “Lord Nelson and Captain Hardy shook
hands, and the Captain congratulated him, even in the arms of death,
upon the brilliant victory, which he said was complete, although he
did not know how many ships were captured; certainly fourteen or
fifteen. Nelson said, ‘That is well, but I bargained for twenty,’ and
then emphatically exclaimed, ‘Anchor, Hardy, anchor!’ ‘I suppose, my
Lord, Admiral Collingwood will now take upon himself the direction of
affairs.’ ‘Not while I live, I hope, Hardy!’ cried Nelson; ‘No, do you
anchor, Hardy.’ Captain Hardy then said, ‘Shall _we_ make the signal,
sir?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Nelson, ‘for if I live, I’ll anchor.’”

In about fifteen minutes Lord Nelson became speechless, and died at
half-past four. His best and truest friends only regretted that he had
not died instantly, on the quarter-deck, when he was wounded.

All nations have done justice to Nelson’s character, and a celebrated
French writer says, he “ought to be held up as a model to Admirals,
both for the extraordinary pains he took to know his Admirals and
Captains, and by the spirit of the attacks which he resolved to
undertake. He unfolded to them his general plan of operations, and the
modifications with which the weather or the manœuvres of the enemy
might force him to qualify his original determination.

“When once he had explained his system to the superior officers of
his fleet, he confided to them the charge of acting according to
circumstances, so as to lead, in the most favorable manner, to the
consummation of the enterprise so planned. And Nelson, who was allowed
to choose the companions of his glory, possessed the talent and the
happiness to find men worthy of his instruction and confidence. They
learned, in action, to supply what had escaped his forethought, and in
success to surpass even his hopes.”

The immediate result of the Battle of Trafalgar was seventeen French
and Spanish ships-of-the-line captured, and one French ship burnt.
Four French ships effected their escape to the southward; and Admiral
Gravina, with eleven French and Spanish ships-of-the-line, and the
smaller vessels, anchored under Rota, in the course of the succeeding
night.

At six P. M. Vice-Admiral Collingwood, now Commander-in-Chief, shifted
his flag to the Euryalus frigate, and the latter, taking the Royal
Sovereign in tow, stood off shore with her.

Most of the British ships were so damaged, either in spars or hull,
that they were not in a condition to carry sail.

Of seventeen prizes, eight were wholly dismasted, the remainder partly
so. Some were nearly in a sinking condition.

To add to their perilous condition, they were then in thirteen fathoms
of water, with the shoals of Trafalgar only a few miles to leeward.
Fortunately the wind, which was west-south-west, and dead on shore, was
moderate; but there was a high swell, which was bad for wounded masts.
At nine P. M. the Vice-Admiral made the signal to anchor, but few could
do so, as many cables were cut by shot. At midnight the wind veered to
south-south-west, and freshened, and signals were made to those under
way to wear, with heads to the westward. Four of the dismasted prizes
anchored off Cape Trafalgar, and the rest wore, and drifted seaward.
Next morning Collingwood issued a general order of thanks to the fleet.

There was then a fresh southerly wind; but thirteen of the prizes,
which had remained under way, were got hold of, and towed to the
westward. But at five o’clock that afternoon it was found that the
Redoutable was sinking, which she did, with many French prisoners and
her prize crew on board. Some were saved on a raft, but many were
lost. Other fearful casualties occurred during the rough weather of
the succeeding night. The Fougueux was lost, with all on board but
twenty-five; and the Algésiras was given up to the prisoners, who
carried her into Cadiz. The Bucentaure was wrecked, but her crew was
saved.

A heavy gale continued, and on the 23d the French Captain,
Cosmao-Kerjulien, with five ships and five frigates, recaptured two of
the prizes, which were drifting about. But in doing so one of his own
ships, the Indomptable, a fine eighty-gun vessel, was wrecked, with all
on board lost; and the Spanish ship St. Francis d’Assis was lost, with
most of her crew. Other casualties occurred.

Altogether, of the ships captured by the British, at the end of the
operations only four--one French and three Spanish 74’s--remained
as trophies in the hands of the conquerors. Nor was one of them
worth the pains and risk taken to preserve her. The Victory, towed
by the Neptune, arrived at Gibraltar on the 28th of October, and on
the 3d of November, having been partially refitted, she sailed for
England--having Nelson’s body, preserved in spirits, on board. At
Chatham the Admiralty yacht received the coffin, which was made of
the main-mast of the French flag-ship Orient, which was burnt at the
battle of the Nile--and which had been presented to Nelson by Captain
Hallowell. This was placed in a leaden coffin; and his flag, which had
been kept at half-mast on board the Victory, was struck for the last
time.

His body, thus encoffined, lay in state at Greenwich Hospital; and on
the 9th of January, 1806, was buried, with great pomp, in St. Paul’s
Cathedral.

Lord Nelson was engaged in action with an enemy over one hundred and
twenty times, and besides being severely wounded elsewhere, lost his
right eye and his right arm.

He had not long passed his forty-seventh birthday when he was killed.

His brother William was made an Earl, with £6000 per annum and £100,000
for the purchase of an estate; while £10,000 pounds were given to each
of his sisters.

It was also decided that two ships should be built; one of one hundred
and twenty guns, to be called the Nelson; and one of ninety-eight
guns, to be called the Trafalgar. Collingwood was made a Baron, and
voted £2000 per annum; and, of course, there were a very large number
of minor promotions.

LORD EXMOUTH AT ALGIERS. A. D. 1816.

Viscount Exmouth (Sir Edward Pellew), a celebrated English Admiral, was
born at Dover, in 1757. His family was Norman, but had been settled
in Cornwall for many centuries. Entering the English navy at the age
of thirteen, he soon distinguished himself for his daring, activity,
intelligence, and all other qualities which go to make up a good
officer.

His first war service was at the battle of Lake Champlain, in our own
country, when he succeeded to the command of the schooner Carleton, and
won a Lieutenant’s commission. The next year he served in Burgoyne’s
unfortunate campaign, in command of a detachment of seamen, whose
tremendous labor in the lakes and rivers was entirely thrown away by
Burgoyne’s capture.

After this he was employed actively against the French, and was
knighted for a very gallant action, when, in command of the Nymphe
frigate, he captured the Cleopatra, a much heavier ship. In 1794, in
command of the Arethusa frigate, he captured the French frigate Pomone;
and in consequence was given the command of a division, when he again
distinguished himself.

Always noted for deeds of daring, one of the most remarkable of these
was his boarding the wrecked transport Sutton, shipwrecked on the
coast of England. He took charge, and by his personal influence and
great exertions, saved the lives of all on board.

In 1798, in command of the Impetueux, of the Channel fleet, he
participated in several actions. He then entered Parliament, and was
known as a strenuous supporter of the policy of William Pitt.

In 1804 he was made a Rear-Admiral, and appointed Commander-in-Chief in
the East Indies, when he succeeded in nearly clearing those seas of the
French cruisers, which had done so much damage to English commerce.

He returned to England in 1809, and was immediately appointed to the
Command in the North Sea. After this he served as Commander-in-Chief in
the Mediterranean, and in 1814 was raised to the peerage.

The atrocities committed by the Algerines, and the barbarous massacre
of the crews of more than three hundred small vessels, at Bona, on
the 23d of May, 1816, induced the British Government to prepare an
expedition to act against the forts and shipping of Algiers. This
piratical city had often been attacked and bombarded before, notably by
the celebrated French Admiral Duquesne, in the latter part of the 17th
century; but it was reserved for Lord Exmouth and an English fleet to
give it a final blow.

On the 28th of July, 1816, Lord Exmouth sailed from Plymouth Sound,
in command of a fleet bound to Algiers. His flag-ship was the Queen
Charlotte, of 100 guns, and Rear-Admiral Milne, his second in command,
was in the Impregnable, 98. There were also three 74s, one 50, two 40s,
two 36s, five brigs, and four bomb-vessels.

Upon reaching Gibraltar, on the 9th of August, Lord Exmouth was joined
by the Minden, 74, and also received offers of co-operation from
Vice-Admiral Baron Van de Cappellen, of the Dutch navy, which Exmouth
very cordially received. The Dutch had four forty-gun ships, a thirty,
and a sloop of eighteen guns.

On the 13th of August each captain received a plan of the
fortifications they were to attack, and definite instructions, and the
whole fleet, amounting to twenty-three sail, with five gun-boats, and a
sloop, fitted as an explosion vessel, weighed anchor, and proceeded for
their destination.

On the passage they were joined by a sloop-of-war, which had taken
off the wife and children of the British Consul at Algiers. But the
Consul himself had been most arbitrarily detained by the Dey, together
with the Surgeon, three Midshipmen, and eighteen men belonging to
the sloop-of-war. (Any one curious in regard to these remarkable
transactions cannot do better than read the book upon Algiers, by Mr.
Shaler, American Consul there at the time of the bombardment. Mr.
Shaler, in his work, points out the true way to take Algiers, and his
advice was afterwards followed by the French, when they took the place.)

The fortifications of Algiers were deemed almost impregnable,
especially by the artillery of that time; upon the various batteries
on the north side of the bay eighty pieces of cannon and eight heavy
mortars were mounted; but the water was so shoal that a large ship
could not come within their reach. Between the north wall of the city
and the commencement of the mole (which was about 800 feet long,
and which connected the town with the lighthouse) were about twenty
guns; and a semi-circular battery, mounting two tiers of guns, about
forty-four in all, stood on the northern projection of the mole.

To the southward of that, and nearly in a line with the pier, was the
lighthouse battery, of three tiers, mounting forty-eight guns, next to
which was the eastern battery, mounting sixty-six guns in three tiers,
flanked by four other batteries, of two tiers, mounting altogether
sixty guns, and on the mole-head were two long 68-pounders, described
as being twenty feet in length. The total number of guns on the mole
and pier was at least 220, composed of 32, 24, and 18-pounders.

The “fish-market” battery, about 300 yards west from the south
mole-head, mounted fifteen guns, in three tiers. Between that and the
southern extremity of the city were two batteries of five guns each.
Beyond the city, in this direction, was a castle and three other
batteries, mounting altogether about seventy guns. In the rear of
the city, and on the heights, were several other batteries; so that
the total number of guns mounted for the defence of this fastness of
robbery, oppression, and cruelty, exceeded 1000.

On the 27th of August, at daybreak, the city of Algiers was in sight,
but the ships were lying nearly becalmed. A boat in charge of a
Lieutenant was despatched to the Dey, to demand compliance with the
following conditions: the abolition of Christian slavery; the release
of all Christian slaves; the repayment of the money recently exacted
for the redemption of Neapolitan and Sardinian slaves; peace with the
King of the Netherlands; and the immediate liberation of the English
Consul and the officers and boats’ crews of the Prometheus.

The boat with the flag of truce was towed in shore, and was met, at 11
A. M., near the mole, by an Algerine boat, in which was the Captain
of the Port, who promised a reply in two hours. In the meantime the
sea breeze sprang up, and the whole fleet stood into the bay, and hove
to, about a mile from the batteries. At 2 P. M., no answer having been
received, the boat sent with the message made signal to that effect,
and returned to her own ship.

Lord Exmouth at once demanded, by signal, if all the ships were ready,
and being answered in the affirmative, the fleet bore up for the
attack, in the order precisely laid down.

About half-past two in the afternoon the flag-ship, Queen Charlotte,
anchored, with springs, about fifty yards from the mole-head; and
while in the act of making a warp fast to an Algerine brig on shore
at the mouth of the harbor, a shot was fired at the ship; and at the
same moment two shots from the opposite end of the mole were fired at
the Impregnable, and other ships, as they were advancing to take their
stations.

Lord Exmouth, unwilling to sacrifice the mass of Algerine townspeople
standing on the parapet of the mole, and gazing with astonishment at
the strange ships, waved his hand to them to descend, and at once gave
orders to commence firing, when the action became general, as soon as
the guns would bear.

On the Queen Charlotte’s port bow lay the Leander, 50, occupying the
place in line of a line-of-battle ship, with her starboard after guns
bearing upon the mole, and her forward guns upon the “fish-market”
battery.

Ahead of the Leander was the Severn, 40, her starboard broadside
bearing full upon the “fish-market” battery. Close to the Severn
was the Glasgow, 40, whose port guns bore upon the town batteries.
On the port quarter of the Queen Charlotte was the Superb, 74, her
starboard broadside bearing on the 60-gun battery next to the one on
the mole-head. It was intended that the Impregnable, 98, and Albion,
74, should take their places close astern of the Superb, but the
former, not being sufficiently up when the firing began, brought up
considerably outside of her appointed station, and beyond the line of
bearing within which the attacking force had been ordered to assemble.
The Impregnable, in consequence, lay exposed, at the distance of five
hundred yards, to the lighthouse battery of three tiers, as well as to
the eastern battery of two tiers. The Minden pushed on and dropped her
anchor in the space between the Impregnable and Superb, on the port
quarter of the latter. The Albion brought up near the Impregnable, but
weighed again, and, about three o’clock, anchored close astern of the
Minden.

The end of her stream cable was then passed out of the gun-room port
of the latter, by which the Albion was hove close to the stern of the
Minden.

Thus the line-of-battle ships took their stations in a northerly
direction from the mole-head; and the frigates from the “fish-market”
battery, in a curved line to the southwest.

The Dutch Admiral intended to have placed his flag-ship, a frigate
called the Melampus, in the centre of his squadron, and against the
batteries to the southward of the city; but not being able to take this
station, in consequence of the Diana being too far to the southward, he
ran past that frigate, and anchored the Melampus with her jib-boom over
the Glasgow’s taffrail.

The Diana and Dageraad anchored astern of the Melampus, and the other
two Dutch frigates further out; the corvette remaining under way. The
Hebrus, 36, being becalmed, anchored a little without the line, on
the port quarter of the Queen Charlotte. The Granicus, 36, hove to,
in order to allow the large ships to take their places; after which
she steered for the Admiral’s flag, which alone could be seen over
the clouds of smoke already formed, and anchored in a space scarcely
exceeding her own length, between the Superb and Queen Charlotte.

The skill with which Captain Wise, her commander, took up this position
elicited the admiration of all who witnessed it. The brigs of the fleet
either anchored or kept under way, as most convenient. The bomb vessels
anchored about two thousand yards from the Algerine batteries; except
one, which took up an inside berth; and the gun-boats and mortar-boats
placed themselves where they could most annoy the enemy.

The Leander was especially charged with the Algerine gun-boats and
row-galleys, which she was not long in destroying by her fire; and
at about four P. M. she ceased firing, that the barge of the Queen
Charlotte might set fire to an Algerine frigate which was lying across
the mole. This service was gallantly performed, and the frigate was
soon in flames; the boat returning with the loss of only two men
killed. Lord Exmouth particularly complimented those employed in this
service. A young Midshipman, in command of a rocket-boat, followed the
barge, but, owing to the slowness of his boat, was much exposed to a
heavy fire from the batteries, and was wounded, with nine of his boat’s
crew; while another Midshipman who was with him was killed.

About half-past four Rear Admiral Milne sent a message to Lord Exmouth,
stating that the Impregnable had sustained a loss of one hundred and
fifty in killed and wounded, and requesting that a frigate might be
sent to divert some of the fire from that ship.

The Glasgow attempted to perform that service, but, it being perfectly
calm, the frigate was unable, after an hour’s exertion, to reach the
intended position, and was obliged to anchor just ahead of the Severn,
with her stern towards that ship, and thus become exposed to a severe
fire from the “fish market” and contiguous batteries. Somewhat later
the Leander, having also suffered severely from these batteries, ran
out a hawser to the Severn, and sprang her broadside round upon them.

The mortar and rocket-boats had by this time set all the vessels
within the harbor on fire, and the flames soon reached the arsenal and
storehouses on the mole. The city was also on fire in several places,
from the shells thrown by the bomb-vessels. The sloop fitted for an
explosion vessel was now run on shore, close under a semi-circular
battery, to the northward of the lighthouse, and about nine at night
this vessel, charged with about 150 barrels of powder, was exploded.
The effect of it is not recorded, and was probably not much, as similar
explosions have since failed to produce any great result.

The fleet continued a tremendous cannonade until ten P. M., when, the
upper tiers of the batteries on the mole being nearly destroyed, and
the lower tiers almost silenced, the Queen Charlotte cut her cables and
stood off, with a light breeze from the land, directing the rest of
the ships to follow her. The breeze was so light that the Superb and
Impregnable, in standing off, suffered much from the raking fire of a
fort at the upper angle of the city, which rises up the side of a hill,
the walls coming to an angle at the top. When the Leander’s cable was
slipped she was found to have sustained so much damage aloft that she
was unmanageable, and fast drifting down on the mole, where the enemy’s
ships were burning. Fortunately she got a hawser to the Severn, and was
towed off. Had she taken the ground, she must have been destroyed, with
the greater part of her crew.

Two or three times the hawser parted, but was as often reconveyed by
the boats, under sharp musketry fire from the mole. At length the
Severn got a good breeze, and the Leander was saved from her perilous
situation.

Before two o’clock in the morning the whole fleet was beyond the reach
of the enemy’s shot, being greatly assisted in taking up an anchorage
by the blaze of the burning Algerine fleet, which illuminated the whole
bay, and lighted up the terraced town, with its white houses rising one
above the other to the fort, which dominated the whole.

As if to add to the grandeur and wildness of the scene, a storm of
thunder and lightning came on, and lasted till daybreak.

At daybreak in the morning the bomb vessels were ordered to again take
up their stations, in readiness to resume the bombardment of the city;
while Lord Exmouth’s Flag-Lieutenant was despatched with a flag of
truce, to repeat the demands made on the preceding day. The Algerine
officer who came out to meet the flag of truce declared that an answer
had been sent the day before, but that no boat could be found to
receive it.

On the 29th the Captain of the Port came off, accompanied by the
British Consul, who had been imprisoned by the Dey; and the same
afternoon an English Captain landed, and had a conference with the
Dey, at his palace; which resulted in the delivery to the British of
more than twelve hundred Christian slaves, the restoration of nearly
$400,000 for slaves redeemed by Naples and Sicily, peace between
Algiers and the Netherlands, and $30,000 paid to the British Consul, as
compensation for the loss of his property, which had been plundered.
The Dey, moreover, made an apology for his detention.

The loss of the attacking party in this successful bombardment was one
hundred and forty-one killed and seven hundred and forty-two wounded.
The Dutch squadron, which was highly complimented by Lord Exmouth for
gallant conduct, lost, of the above, thirteen killed and fifty-two
wounded.

This bombardment broke the Algerine power completely, and put an end,
almost altogether, to her piratical exploits.

Fourteen years afterwards the country was captured by France, and has
ever since remained in the possession of that country.

NAVARINO, 1827.

In the summer of 1827, an English squadron, under Vice Admiral Sir
Edward Codrington, acting in concert with a division of French ships,
under Rear-Admiral De Rigny, and a Russian squadron, under Rear-Admiral
Count Heiden, assembled in the Mediterranean.

The object this allied fleet had in view was the enforcement of a
protocol, signed at St. Petersburg, on April 4th, 1826, for the
protection of the inhabitants of the Morea from the cruelties practiced
upon them by the Turks, under Ibrahim Pacha. Russia would probably have
interfered alone, and England and France were, no doubt, fearful of
the possible consequences of allowing Russia to do so, in the war then
being carried on between the Greeks and their Turkish oppressors.

A further agreement between the three powers was come to in London,
July 6th, 1827, and they insisted, in the first place, upon an
armistice between Turkey and Greece. This was agreed to by the
belligerents, but was violated by Turkey almost as soon as her assent
was given. This conduct on the part of the Porte led directly to the
short but very terrible naval battle of Navarino, on the 20th of
October, in the same year.

On the 3d of September an Egyptian fleet, with troops, entered the
harbor of Navarino, where they were closely watched by the combined
squadrons. On the 19th, finding that the British squadron alone
remained off the port, Ibrahim Pacha, wishing to send relief to Patras,
ordered out a division of his fleet, but finding their movements
watched, they returned to Navarino.

Rear-Admiral De Rigny having rejoined the blockading squadron, a
conference took place on the 25th, in the tent of Ibrahim, who then
agreed to suspend hostilities against the Greeks until an answer could
be obtained from Constantinople, and that, in the meantime, his fleet
should not quit the harbor. Upon the faith of this assurance, nearly
all the Allied ships were withdrawn from before Navarino. Part of
the squadron was sent to Malta, to refit; the British Admiral went
to Zante, and the French to Milo, for provisions. The Dartmouth and
Armide, frigates, alone remained off the port.

Scarcely had the English Admiral anchored at Zante when the Dartmouth
hove in sight, with the signal flying that the Turks had put to sea;
and the Armide, proceeding towards Milo, overtook the French Admiral
before he reached that place. Sir Edward Codrington, having with him
a frigate and two corvettes only, intercepted the Turkish squadron,
consisting of seven frigates, nine corvettes, two brigs, and nineteen
transports; which, on his firm remonstrance, all put back. A second
division, of six Egyptian frigates and eight brigs, had likewise put
to sea, but they also returned, and the whole re-entered Navarino on
the 4th of October. By the 15th the different Allied squadrons were
again assembled off Navarino; and Ibrahim, thus blocked up, continued
his tyrannical proceedings inland. Various attempts were made to
communicate with him, but without success; and a final conference
was called, on the 18th of October, on board Codrington’s flag-ship,
the Asia; at which it was decided to enter the harbor of Navarino,
and from thence renew the negotiations. On the evening of the 19th
Vice Admiral Codrington issued full instructions to the whole force,
pointing out the position for anchoring each division, but concluding
with the well known advice of Lord Nelson, “If a general action should
take place, no Captain can be better placed than when his vessel is
alongside one of the enemy.”

The harbor of Navarino was the scene, four hundred and twenty-five
years before Christ, of a great naval battle between Athens and Sparta,
in which the latter suffered an overwhelming defeat.

The harbor is about six miles in circumference. The mainland bends
round three sides of it, almost in a horseshoe, and the island of
Sphacteria, two miles in length, and a quarter of a mile in breadth,
stretches across from one headland to the other. The only available
passage into Navarino is at the southern end of the island, and is
about six hundred yards in width. On entering the passage there appears
at the right a bold promontory dominated by a fort, originally built by
the Venetians, and under the fort the small walled town of Navarino,
near which Ibrahim’s army was encamped.

On the southern extremity of the island, almost opposite to the
fortress on the promontory, another fort was placed. The first fortress
was very formidable, mounting 125 guns, and, with that on the island,
was well placed to defend the entrance of the harbor, as well as to
command the anchorage within. At the northern end of the island was a
third battery, which also commanded the harbor.

At about half-past one P. M., on the 20th of October, the signal was
made by the Asia to prepare for action, and the combined fleet weighed
anchor, and stood into the harbor. The British and French formed the
weather or starboard column, and the Russians the lee line.

The following were the vessels composing the allied fleet; The Asia, of
80 guns, Vice-Admiral Codrington’s flag-ship; two 74s, the Genoa and
Albion; four frigates of various force, from 50 to 28 guns; and one
corvette, three brigs, and a cutter.

The French had two 80-gun ships, the Trident and Breslau; one 78, the
Scipion; one 60, the Sirène, flag-ship; the Armide frigate, 46 guns,
and two corvettes.

The Russian squadron consisted of the Azoff, 80; the Gargoute, Ezekiel,
and Newsky, 76; three 46-gun frigates, and one 48.

The Turco-Egyptian fleet consisted of three ships-of-the-line, one
razee, sixteen frigates, twenty-seven corvettes, and twenty-seven
brigs, with six fire-ships. To these must be added the guns in the
forts, on shore, in number about 200, and some armed transports, which
brought the number of Turkish guns up to about 2000.

About 2 P. M. the Asia, leading, arrived at the mouth of the harbor,
and passed unmolested within pistol-shot of the heavy battery on
the starboard hand. The Turks and Egyptians were moored in the form
of a crescent, the larger ones presenting their broadsides towards
the centre, and the smaller ones inside, filling up the intervals.
The Asia anchored close alongside a ship-of-the-line bearing the
flag of the Capitan Bey, and on the port or inner quarter of a large
double-banked frigate with the flag of Moharem Bey, Commander-in-chief
of the Egyptian squadron. The Genoa followed within one hundred yards
of her leader, and brought up abreast of a large frigate astern of the
Admiral; the Albion, in turn, anchored astern of the Genoa. The Russian
Admiral was to look out for four ships which were to windward, part
of the Egyptian squadron, and those to leeward, in the bight of the
crescent, were to mark the stations of the whole Russian squadron, the
ships of their line closing with the English.

The French frigate Armide was to take her station alongside the
outermost frigate on the left, in entering the harbor, and three
English frigates next to her. The smaller English vessels were to watch
the movements of the fire-ships.

Strict orders were given by Admiral Codrington that not a gun should be
fired unless the Allied squadrons were first attacked by the Turks, and
these orders were rigidly observed.

The entry of the Allied fleets was silently permitted by the Turks, who
did not call to quarters, either with drum or trumpet, and an ominous
silence was preserved throughout their line; so it was difficult to
suppose that a most bloody battle was about to take place.

The Turkish fleet and batteries were prepared for action, however;
and it so proved when the Dartmouth frigate, which had anchored close
to the fire-ships, and whose Captain, perceiving certain movements on
board of them which induced him to believe that the Turks were about
to act on the offensive, sent a boat, under command of a lieutenant,
to request that the fire-ships should quit the anchorage occupied by
the Allies. Upon the boat’s proceeding alongside the fire-ship, a fire
of musketry was opened upon her, and the lieutenant and several of the
crew were killed. The fire was replied to from the boat, and the sharp
report of small arms, echoing from the surrounding rocky eminences,
seemed to awake the Turks from a torpor.

Just at this critical moment the French flag-ship, the Sirène, which
was close alongside the Egyptian frigate Esnina, hailed, to say that
she should not fire if the Esnina did not. The words had hardly passed
the French Captain’s lips when the Egyptian fired her broadside slap
into the Sirène. So quickly that it seemed an echo, the formidable
broadside of the Sirène was heard in reply, delivered point blank into
the Esnina. At the same moment the Turkish Admiral fired a shot, and
upon this the whole Allied fleet in a position to do so opened fire
upon the Turks.

The Asia, though abreast of the ship of the Capitan Bey, was nearer
to that of Moharem Bey; and as the latter did not fire at the Asia,
the English flag-ship did not fire at her. A messenger was sent to
the Asia by Moharem Bey, to say that he did not intend to fire, and
Admiral Codrington, still unwilling to believe a serious engagement
possible, sent a boat with a Mr. Mitchell, who was acting as pilot and
interpreter, to assure Moharem of his desire to avoid bloodshed.

But Mitchell was treacherously shot dead when descending the side
of the Egyptian ship. Soon after the Egyptian opened fire, and as
Admiral Codrington says, in his dispatch, “was consequently effectually
destroyed by the Asia’s fire, sharing the same fate as his brother
Admiral on the starboard side, and falling to leeward, a complete
wreck.” The action then became general; and the ships were soon
enveloped in dense clouds of powder smoke, only lighted by the rapid
flashes of the guns; and very soon these lurid flashes became the only
guides by which the gunners could sight their pieces. In this dreadful
turmoil the drill, discipline and experience of the Europeans gave them
the advantage. As their shot told more truly than those of the Turks,
each broadside of the Allies tore through the hulls, swept the decks,
and wrecked the masts and rigging of the Ottoman fleet.

The Turks, raging, furious and desperate, fought with blind and
ill-directed courage. In working their guns they seemed only anxious to
fire rapidly, without taking time to point their pieces. Less carried
away by rage, and a little more skillful, they should have overwhelmed
the Allies, for they had treble the number of guns. In the meantime the
Allies kept up a close, cool and accurate fire, and the Turkish losses
soon became frightful.

Two fire-ships were soon in flames, and a third blew up, while a
fourth was sunk by shot. The forts opened upon the Allies, and that of
Navarino, especially, committed much havoc; but almost as much among
friends as foes.

The Russian ships did not reach their assigned positions until about
three o’clock, when the fire was at its height. The Asia’s fire having
disposed of her two opponents, that ship became exposed to a severe
raking fire from the Turkish inner lines, by which her mizzen-mast
was shot away, several guns disabled, and many of her crew killed and
wounded. The Master of the Asia was killed in the early part of the
action, while bringing both broadsides to bear upon the Turkish and
Egyptian Admirals. Captain Bell, of the marines, was also killed, and
Sir Edward Codrington was struck by a musket-ball, which knocked his
watch out of his pocket, and battered it to pieces. The Genoa, next
astern the English Admiral, suffered very severely, being engaged from
first to last, and doing excellent service. As the Turks fired high,
the carnage among the marines on the poops of the large vessels was
so great that it was thought best to remove them to the quarter deck,
and their loss was especially great in the Genoa. Commodore Bathurst,
of that ship, was wounded three times; the last time mortally, by a
grape-shot which passed through his body and lodged in the opposite
bulwark. The French frigate Armide sustained for a long time, and
without being disabled, the fire of five Egyptian frigates. The French
line-of-battle ship Scipion was on fire no less than four times, from
a fire-ship which lay in flames across her fore-foot. Each time the
flames were extinguished; and that without any perceptible want of
regularity in her fire. The English ship Albion, next astern of the
Genoa, was exposed to the united fire of a cluster of ships, including
one 74, and two 64-gun ships. About half an hour after the action
commenced one of the Turkish ships fell foul of the Albion, and her
crew made an attempt to board, but were repulsed with heavy loss. The
Turkish ship was in turn boarded and taken. The English were in the act
of releasing a number of Greek prisoners secured in the hold of this
ship, when she was discovered to be on fire. The English, therefore,
left her, having cut her cables, and the Turk, enveloped in flames,
drifted clear of the Albion, and, shortly after, blew up, with a
tremendous explosion.

The two remaining large Turkish ships again opened upon the Albion; but
she returned the fire so vigorously that the largest of the two was
soon in flames. The Albion was all the afternoon surrounded by blazing
ships; but at dusk she got under way, and stood clear of them.

The ships of all three of the Allies seem to have behaved with equal
gallantry; but the performance of the little cutter, the Hind, tender
to the Asia, deserves especial mention. She was of one hundred and
sixty tons, mounted eight light guns, and had a crew of thirty men.
She had been to Zante, and only returned as the Allied squadrons
were entering Navarino, and her gallant Commander determined,
notwithstanding his trifling force, to have his share in the glories
of the day. He accordingly entered with the rest, and, taking up
a raking position astern of a large frigate, at only a few yards
distance, opened upon her a sharp fire. The cutter was exposed to the
fire of several small vessels, and in about three quarters of an hour
they cut her cables, and she drifted away between a large corvette and
a brig, which she engaged until the brig caught fire and blew up. The
Hind then continued to fire into the corvette, until her remaining
cable was cut, and she drifted clear of her adversary. Still drifting,
in the hottest of the fire, the little Hind fouled a Turkish frigate;
her main-boom entering one of the main-deck ports; and the Turks were
about to board her. In this they were repeatedly repulsed; and at last
the Turks manned a large boat, to try to carry her in that way. The
Hind’s crew knocked this boat to pieces with her carronades, crammed to
the muzzle with grape and canister; and the cutter soon after drifted
clear of the frigate, just as a general cessation of fire took place.

Her loss, in all this fighting, only amounted to a Mate and three men
killed, and a Midshipman and nine men wounded.

As we have said, the French ships behaved admirably, as did the
Russians. In fact, the position of the contending ships was such that
the mutual and perfect co-operation of each ship of the Allied squadron
was absolutely necessary to bring about a favorable termination. Had
the Russians or French not taken their full share in the day’s work,
the British must have been annihilated.

The close and continued cannonade caused complete and dreadful
destruction to the Turks. About forty of their vessels, of different
rates, fell a prey to the flames, exploding their magazines in
succession, as the fire reached them, and covering the waters of the
bay with their fragments and the burned and mutilated bodies of their
crews. By five P. M. the entire first line of the Turks was destroyed,
and by seven there remained afloat, of all their formidable armament,
only a few small vessels which had been furthest in shore. These were
mostly abandoned by their crews, who had made their escape to the
neighboring hills.

Sir Edward Codrington reported that, on the morning after the battle,
“out of a fleet composed of eighty-one vessels, only one frigate and
fifteen smaller vessels are in a state ever again to put to sea.”

The allied fleets lost 177 killed and 480 wounded. The Turks were
estimated to have lost at least six thousand killed.

This action created a great sensation throughout Europe; not only
because no great naval action had been fought for some years, but
because the friends of Grecian independence saw in the battle the
probable freedom of that oppressed State. But politicians were alarmed
at what they feared would be the deplorable consequences of leaving
Turkey disarmed, in the presence of ambitious and menacing Russia,
as the battle had already, it was said, “turned the Black Sea into a
Russian lake,” and that great opportunity for Greece was lost through
the fears and vacillation of diplomatists.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: SINOPE, 1853.

(The Russians under Admiral Nachimoff Annihilating the Turkish Fleet,
in the harbor of Sinope.)]

SINOPE, 1853.

Sinope is a very ancient town, situated mostly upon a peninsula, which
juts out from the coast of Anatolia into the Black Sea.

It was once far-famed as the capital city of Mithridates, King of
Pontus, as well as the birth place of Diogenes, of whom, perhaps, more
people have heard, although he was not a King.

After frequent and honorable mention in very ancient history, we, later
on, find it, when it fell into the all-conquering Romans’ power, the
seat of the government of the celebrated Pliny, and the remains of the
aqueduct then built by him are still to be traced in the neighborhood.

In 1470 Mohamet II included it in the Turkish Empire, of which it has
ever since remained a part.

The modern town has about ten thousand people, and presents to the view
of one arriving before it by sea the peculiar, shabby, picturesque
and dilapidated appearance of most third-rate Turkish places, where
red-tiled roofs overhang mouldy, moss-covered, wooden buildings. Here
and there among the dull red of the roofs rises the bright and graceful
minaret of a mosque; while in the background clumps of the funereal
cypress show the spots where the faithful lie at rest. Portions of a
ruinous, turreted wall are to be seen here and there; but there are
no forts or other defences worthy of the name, although for years it
had been a Turkish “military” port, where men-of-war were occasionally
built or repaired.

Perhaps Sinope would never have been heard of in modern times, but for
a naval action which created an unusual sensation throughout both the
Christian and Moslem worlds, and which alienated from the Russians, at
the very beginning of the Crimean War, the sympathy of many who would
otherwise have been favorable to their designs.

The affair about to be narrated was an abuse of superior force, at a
time when war was inevitable, but had not been proclaimed, between
Russia and the Ottoman Porte.

On November 30th, 1853, a Turkish squadron, consisting of seven
frigates, three corvettes, and two steamers, were driven, by stress of
bad weather, into the anchorage of Sinope. In this, their own port of
refuge, they were surprised by the arrival of the Russian Vice Admiral
Nachimoff, with a fleet of two three-decked ships, four 74s, three
frigates, one transport, and three steam-vessels.

Admiral Nachimoff at once summoned the Turkish squadron to surrender to
him. But, in spite of the immense disproportion in force, the Turkish
Admiral resolved to resist his demands to the last extremity, and to
destroy his squadron rather than strike his flag. So about midday, in
response to a formal summons, he opened fire upon the Russians. It
seemed almost like an act of madness, to which he was goaded by the
outrageousness of such a demand made upon him before war was declared;
but we cannot help admiring his desperate courage and determination,
even if it was that of despair; for he could have had no hope of
success against such a force as the Russians had.

This remarkable action, thus begun, was maintained until a full hour
after sunset; the termination of the bloody fight being lighted up
by the flames of the town itself, which had been set on fire by the
Russian shells.

At last the Ottoman squadron was blotted out of existence; and not
till then did the reports of the guns cease, and silence fall upon the
waters of the harbor.

Of the twelve Turkish vessels, eight were sunk outright, at their
anchors, by shot. The Captain of the Mizamiéh, of sixty guns, fought
his ship to the last, with terrible energy, and at last fired his own
magazine, and blew the vessel, and most of those who had survived the
action, to fragments.

The Captain of the Navik, of 52 guns, followed his example, and
immediately blew up his vessel.

The Russian fleet, in spite of their superiority, suffered terribly
from the desperate defence of the Turks. Several of their vessels,
completely dismasted, were obliged to leave Sinope in tow of steamers;
and none of them ever did any more service, for after being for a long
time blockaded in Sebastopol, by the French and English fleets, they
were sunk in that harbor by the Russians themselves.

Although so much of the town was injured by shot and fire, and at least
one hundred and fifty of the inhabitants were killed or burned, strange
to say, a fine fifty-gun steam-frigate, upon the stocks, escaped
destruction. A visitor, soon after the battle, describes the scene as
most heart-rending and depressing, and expresses wonder that more of
the towns-people were not killed, as the fields, inland, were covered
with fragments of the blown up ships, exploded shells, bolts, chains,
spars and planks. An anchor weighing fifteen hundred pounds was blown
inland more than a quarter of a mile.

LISSA, 1866.

Lissa is an island of the Adriatic, thirty-three miles southwest of
Spalatro, in Dalmatia. In ancient times, four centuries before Christ,
it was settled by Greeks from Lesbos, who named it Issa, from one of
the names of their own island, in the Ægean.

During the first Punic war the Isseans, already expert seamen, helped
the Roman Duilius with their beaked ships, and the Great Republic of
antiquity in return assisted them in resisting aggression. They were
again allies against Philip of Macedon.

In the year 966 the Venetians were in possession of the island, but
the Ragusans, from the mainland, drove them out, only to return, and
to establish firmly the reign of the Doges. The principal town was
twice entirely destroyed, once by the Neapolitans, and once by the
Turks, and the present city, which rises in an amphitheatrical form
from the shores of the principal harbor, only dates from the year 1571.
During the Napoleonic wars the island was occupied by the French, and
near it, in 1810, an important naval action was fought, in which an
English squadron defeated the French. The English then seized and kept
possession of the island until the grand settlement and apportionment,
after the peace of 1815, when it became the property of Austria. The
fortifications erected by the British were only dismantled in 1870. The
island is fertile, quite mountainous, and a conspicuous landmark in the
navigation of the Adriatic.

In the course of the war between Austria and Italy, which terminated
in the entire liberation of the latter country from the dominion of
the hated “Tedeschi,” who had occupied Venice and the fairest parts of
Lombardy for so many years, Italy suffered two great defeats. One was
on land, at Custozza, where their army, though unsuccessful, came out
with honor, after proofs of courage and conduct.

The navy of Italy, then comparatively small and untried, was anxious to
redeem the Italian honor and arms, by meeting the Austrian fleet. Under
the auspices of the navy a descent was therefore made upon the Austrian
island of Lissa.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF LISSA (1866).]

On the 18th of July, 1866, the island was attacked and taken by the
fleet under Admiral Persano. But their success was short-lived, for the
Austrians came down the next day, and inflicted the terrible defeat
which, for the time, completely disorganized the Italian navy.

This fleet was composed of eleven armored vessels (including large and
small, and the ram L’Affondatore), two frigates, one corvette and three
gun-boats, each mounting two guns, five despatch vessels, and a few
smaller craft, hardly fit to enter into action.

Among the Italian vessels was the large ironclad frigate Ré d’Italia,
built during our civil war, for the Italian Government, by Webb, of New
York. This fleet was commanded by Admiral Persano, and was in three
divisions. The first, under the direct orders of Persano himself,
consisted of eight armored vessels, and some other lighter steamers;
the second division, under Vice-Admiral Albini, consisted of six screw
frigates, unarmored; the third division, under Rear-Admiral Vacca,
consisted of three ironclad vessels.

The Austrian fleet, which came down to seek the Italians, and to offer
battle, as soon as the news of the capture of Lissa was received,
consisted of twenty-two vessels. Seven of them were armored; one was
a screw ship-of-the-line, called the Kaiser, of 90 guns; four screw
frigates; four gun-boats; one corvette; and a few small craft.

In spite of the fact that the Austrian fleet would, undoubtedly, come
to dispute their conquest, the Italians seem to have been taken rather
by surprise, especially as Admiral Tegethoff approached rapidly, and
engaged very promptly. The engagement, being under steam, commenced as
soon as the guns of the opposing fleets would bear, and was, at first,
carried on with great resolution on both sides. Very soon after the
fight commenced the Ré d’Italia, one of the best ships of the Italian
fleet, was rammed by two Austrian ships, also armored, and received
fatal injuries, from which she soon sank, carrying down many of her
crew.

She had been the flag-ship; but just before she went into action
Admiral Persano had quitted her, and gone on board the iron-clad ram,
the Affondatore, without notifying the commanding officers of the
change, either by signal, or otherwise. The action was then really
fought, on the part of the Italians, without a Commander; for they
received no signals from the ship from which they had a right to look
for them; and, as the Ré d’Italia was soon sunk, many thought that
Admiral Persano had perished in her.

The Italian fleet was thus without united action; and their manœuvres
were undecided and weak; while the Austrian fleet concentrated all
its efforts under the strong impulse of a skillful and very zealous
Commander, whose only thought seemed to be to win or perish. In spite
of this the Italian ships were most bravely fought, and the victory was
not either an easy or bloodless one.

Many have thought that, had there been a capable Commander, and unity
of action, they would have probably gained the battle.

The Italian iron-clad Ré di Portogallo, a sister ship of the Ré
d’Italia, especially distinguished herself by the audacity of her
movements and the ability with which she was handled. She sank two
Austrian vessels; having a long engagement with the Kaiser, sinking
this huge ship by a broadside poured into her, at a distance of only
a few yards. The Kaiser is said to have carried down with her twelve
hundred men; several hundred of whom were Tyrolese sharp-shooters.

At half-past four in the afternoon the battle ceased; having lasted for
six hours.

The Italians retired to Ancona, a safe and strongly fortified harbor
on their coast, nearly opposite to Lissa. The Austrian fleet had
received such damage and loss that they not only were unable to pursue
the Italians, but were soon obliged to desert the waters of Lissa, and
return to their naval port, Pola.

Although this was not a victory for the Austrians, in the sense of
large captures, they were most distinctly the victors, in that the
Italians deserted the field. That has always been the test of victory,
both by land and by sea. Before the end of the battle the Italians lost
a second iron-clad, the Palestro, which blew up, and all on board were
lost. On the 6th of August, following, the Affondatore, which had been
anchored outside of Ancona, on the lookout for the Austrian fleet, was
swamped by the heavy sea caused by a sudden storm. She endeavored to
take refuge inside the mole, but too late. All her crew were saved.
The whole affair was a dreadful blow to the Italian navy, and to their
cause; and was equally instrumental in advancing the _morale_ and
reputation of the Austrian navy.

A good deal of light may be thrown upon this event by a slight account
of the officer responsible for it

Admiral Count Charles Persano was born at Vercelli, in 1806. He
entered the Sardinian navy, and rose rapidly to high rank; serving
under Admiral Bruat, at the bombardment of Odessa, during the Crimean
war; and, for the remainder of that struggle, having charge of the
transportation and provisionment of the Sardinian troops which joined
the Allies; a most responsible post.

In the year 1859, as a Rear-Admiral, he had command of the Adriatic
squadron of observation, and of the blockade of Venice. The next year
he commanded the fleet at Naples, when Garibaldi seized and turned over
to him the Neapolitan fleet. Here he acted with great judgment, and
to the satisfaction of all, in distributing the Neapolitan officers
among the vessels of the national fleet, and in composing difficulties
and overcoming obstacles incident to so sudden and great a change in
government. The reputation of no one stood higher than that of Persano,
for tact, ability, and firmness of purpose.

[Illustration: AUSTRIAN MAN OF WAR, FERDINAND MAX, RAMMING THE ITALIAN
IRONCLAD, RE D’ITALIA, AT THE BATTLE OF LISSA.]

In September, 1860, upon the invasion of the Marches and Umbria, the
Admiral was sent off Ancona, where he distinguished himself, first in
the blockade, and then in forcing an entrance and taking possession of
that fine port. General Lamoricière declared that he was discomfited
not by the land force opposed to him, but by the work of the fleet; and
it was with Persano that he held a parley, and to him he surrendered
his sword. During this siege Persano gained great popularity, on
account of his consideration for the sufferings of the inhabitants.

For these actions he was made a Vice-Admiral, and was elected a deputy,
from the city of Spezia, to the first Italian Parliament, which was
convened in 1861. When the Italian navy was constituted he became the
Admiral; there being three Vice-Admirals and ten Rear-Admirals also
appointed. Soon after he became a Senator, and Minister of Marine,
under Ratazzi.

No man in Italy was more trusted and honored, and few could be said to
have had a more successful career.

In expectation of the approaching struggle with Austria for the
possession of the Venetian provinces, the Italian government had, at
immense sacrifices, devoted some years to the development of its navy;
which, much superior to that of Austria, was to secure to the Italian
flag the dominion of the Adriatic. In the event of war the command of
the fleet fell naturally to the naval officer of highest rank, and so,
in March, 1866, Admiral Persano was named to the command of the strong
fleet collected at Tarento. But the results accomplished by this naval
force fell far below the hopes of those who had conceived and formed it.

Persano began by delaying for a long time the departure of his fleet
from Tarento. Then, when he did enter the Adriatic, he refused,
although far superior in numbers, and with crews filled with enthusiasm
for the cause, to accept the battle offered him by the Austrian fleet,
composed of fourteen ships only; and he remained idle, at Ancona, until
July 8th.

Only upon repeated and decided orders of the Minister of Marine did
he finally leave port, but then only for a few days’ cruise in the
Adriatic, during which he avoided the Austrian fleet and coast. Another
formal order was needed, from the highest authority, to force him
to leave Ancona again, and to proceed to the Island of Lissa. Upon
the taking of this island partly depended the success of the naval
operations in the Adriatic.

After a rather feeble bombardment of the Austrian works, Persano,
although he had certain information that Admiral Tegethoff was
hastening to the relief of Lissa, gave the order for landing, and
pursuing operations on shore. This ill-conceived proceeding of landing
a portion of his men, at a time when he was liable at any moment to be
attacked by sea, has been attributed to various motives; none of them
worthy ones. At any rate, when the Austrians did appear, coming down
from the north, the Italian ships were not ready to meet them, and
those of the crews who had been landed had to re-embark, in haste and
confusion. Moreover, in presence of the enemy, and while dispositions
for battle were actually going on, Persano left the Ré d’Italia, his
flag-ship, and went on board the Affondatore, an inconspicuous and
untried vessel, built for a ram. His motive in doing so was never
explained satisfactorily by him, and is left to conjecture. By his
action he delayed the formation of the line-of-battle, and deprived
himself of the ability to direct the movements of the fleet, as the
officers had not been informed of the change; and, moreover, by his
presence, prevented the ram from taking the part in the battle for
which she was designed especially. Such being the state of things, it
is no wonder that the action, in spite of individual exertions and
gallantry, resulted disastrously for the Italians.

This defeat, or disaster, was so mortifying, and so confounded the
designs of the Italian government, that a storm of public indignation
was aroused against Persano, and the King was forced to order a court
of inquiry upon his actions. It is said that the Admiral himself
demanded one, but this does not clearly appear.

The court examined very many witnesses, and the proceedings were
very much protracted; so that it was the end of 1867 before their
proceedings were reported to the Italian Senate. The Senate then
proceeded to give judgment. Persano was acquitted of the charge of
cowardice by a small majority, but he was found guilty of disobedience
of orders, and negligence in the performance of duty, by a large
majority. The Ministry had intended to prosecute him for high treason;
but, for some reason, this was abandoned, and he was released from
arrest, and suffered to slink into retirement and obscurity, a
disgraced man.

By a vote of the Senate, he was required to pay the expenses of the
court of inquiry, which had been very heavy, and was dismissed from
the navy, and from all his other offices. It was generally thought, in
Italy, that the Senate had been very lenient in thus dealing with him;
and that he should have suffered death.

The whole of the facts of the case are not accessible in this country,
and perhaps would not be, even in Italy.

* * * * *

William, Baron Tegethoff, the Austrian Commander at the battle of
Lissa, was a native of Styria, being born in 1827. After passing
through the Venetian Naval College, he entered the Imperial Navy, in
1845, and in twelve years became a Commander, serving on the coast of
Egypt, the Red Sea, the east coast of Africa, and in the Mediterranean.
After this he accompanied the Archduke Maximilian, as Aide-de-Camp, in
his voyage to Brazil. In 1861 he had command of the Austrian squadron
in Greece, during the unsettled and exciting period which terminated
in Otho’s leaving the Greek throne.

During the Schleswig-Holstein War he commanded the Austrian squadron in
the North Sea; and, in conjunction with some Prussian vessels, fought,
with the Danish fleet, the spirited and bloody, but inconclusive,
action of Heligoland.

For this he was made a Rear-Admiral, from May 9th, 1864, and two years
later, was made Vice-Admiral, for the action of Lissa.

After Maximilian’s death, in Mexico, he was deputed to proceed to Vera
Cruz and obtain the remains of that Prince. After three months’ delay
and considerable diplomacy he obtained them, and returned to Trieste,
in January 1868. In March of that year he was made Commander-in-Chief
of the Austrian Navy, being then only forty-one years of age.

Tegethoff is looked upon as the creator of the effective Austrian Navy,
which, before his time, was undisciplined and inefficient. At his
death, which occurred in 1871, from chronic dysentery, contracted in
Mexico, the Austrian Navy numbered sixteen efficient iron-clad ships,
besides wooden vessels.

The Austrian Government has ordered that a ship of their Navy shall
always bear his name.

SOME NAVAL ACTIONS BETWEEN BRAZIL, THE ARGENTINE CONFEDERATION AND
PARAGUAY. 1865-68.

The first naval event of importance in this long and deadly struggle
(which began, as all the later South American wars have begun, about a
question of boundary), was the battle of the Riachuelo.

The river Parana, the southern boundary of Paraguay, enters the river
Paraguay between the Paraguayan fort of Humáitá, and the town of
Corrientes, in the Argentine Confederation; and just below Corrientes
is the Riachuelo, which has given its name to this battle.

Riachuelo means a streamlet or brook. The channel of the main river is
here about five hundred yards wide. It is much broader both above and
below. The Paraguayans had invaded the territory of Entre-Rios, and
just north of the “streamlet” had established a position, where they
had a strong battery of flying artillery, upon the bank of the main
river.

In April, 1865, the first Brazilian naval division ascended the river,
towards Corrientes. The Brazilian Admiral, Tamandaré, did not come with
them, being occupied in Buenos Ayres, as was notorious, in imitating
the conduct of Nelson at Naples, and of Marc Antony at Alexandria. The
fleet was under the command of Commandante Gomensoro, who was soon
afterwards superseded by Vice-Admiral Barroso.

The fleet anchored almost in sight of Corrientes, on the Chaco, or
western bank. It consisted of nine steamers, all sea-going. They
were the Amazonas (flag-ship), a heavy paddle-ship, of six guns; the
Jequitinhonha, Belmonte, Mearim, and Beberibe, each of eight guns; the
Paranahyba, of six guns; Iparanga, seven; Iguatème, of five, and the
Araguay, of three guns, fifty-nine in all.

Lopez, the President and absolute Dictator of Paraguay, determined to
try to capture this fleet.

His soldiers all were devoted to him, and those of the higher classes
who were not so, he kept under, by a system of terrorism worthy of his
father’s predecessor, Dr. Francia. Anything which he determined should
be done had to be done, or the offender suffered imprisonment and
torture, followed by death. Driven in this way by fear, his officers
accomplished wonderful things. He seldom conferred upon any one a
higher rank than that of Captain, and officers of that grade frequently
commanded regiments and brigades. The men were brave and patient,
and satisfied with the scantiest food and clothing. They despised
the Brazilians, many of whom were negroes or mulattoes, calling them
“cambas” and “macacos”--niggers and monkeys. Some of the most wonderful
instances of daring, devotion, and calm courage were exhibited by these
Indians during this long war; and when it closed, nearly all the men in
the country, and many of the boys, were dead, killed in battle.

As an instance of their heroic devotion we may mention that of a
Paraguayan soldier, solitary and alone, and surrounded by overwhelming
numbers of armed enemies. Being called upon to surrender, he coolly
replied, “No tengo orden”--I have no orders--and continued to fight
until pinned to the ground by a dozen bayonets. Nor was this by any
means a solitary case.

Having determined to try to capture the Brazilian vessels, Lopez
adopted in part a plan formed by an English Chief Engineer in his
fleet. This man had formerly served in the Brazilian Navy, and
understood them thoroughly.

Lopez’ vessels were to run down with the current and reach the
Brazilian squadron just at daylight. Each Paraguayan vessel was to
select her antagonist, run at her, and board, with plenty of men, armed
with their favorite swords and knives.

Lopez, who was personally a coward, and who never took part in any
action himself, thought he had great military genius, and would
interfere upon this occasion, as upon many others. The plan of Watts,
the Englishman, would have caught the Brazilians asleep, and with their
fires banked, so that they could not move.

Lopez gave instructions for his vessels to run past the Brazilians,
then turn, come up stream, and board. He detailed eight hundred men, in
addition to the crews of the vessels, as boarders. These he harangued,
and told them to go and bring him back the fleet and the prisoners of
the “Cambas.” “No!” cried the Paraguayans, in reply, “What do we want
with prisoners? We will kill them all.”

Lopez smiled, distributed cigars, their one great luxury, and sent them
away.

He sent on this expedition nine steamers, river boats, about all he
had. They were the Tacuari (flag-ship), Paraguari, Igurey, Marquis
Olinda (captured early in the war), Salto-Oriental, Ipora, Peribebui,
Jejui and Ibera. These carried thirty-four guns. They were to tow down
some of the “chatas” or flat-boats used by the Paraguayans, which each
mounted one heavy gun, and carried a number of men. These boats were
very low in the water, of light draught, and very hard to hit.

Pedro Mesa was the Captain of the Paraguayan Navy. He was fat, and
sick, and old, and had no knowledge whatever of naval warfare. He tried
to decline the command of the expedition, which, as the whole navy was
in service, naturally fell to him. But Lopez would not listen to it,
and ordered him on board; and the instructions of Lopez must be obeyed,
on peril of death.

Finally the flotilla got off. But there was much delay from defective
machinery and one of the steamers, the Ibera, had to be left behind.
Owing to this it was broad daylight before they came down near the
Brazilians, and there was consequently no surprise. Mesa carried out
his orders literally, as it behooved any one to do who served Lopez,
and ran past the Brazilians a very considerable distance, having
received their fire as he passed. The latter slipped their cables
and got under way, so that it was ten o’clock in the morning before
the fleets came in contact. In spite of the bad manœuvre of going
down the stream first, the fight opened well for the Paraguayans. The
Jequitinhonha, which carried, among other guns, two 68-pounders and a
Whitworth rifle, grounded, and was abandoned, after being well peppered
by the Paraguayan battery of Bruguez, on the left bank. The Paranahyba
had her wheel shot away, and was boarded and taken; and the Belmonte,
riddled with shot, had to be run on shore, to keep her from sinking.

In this battle the difficulty was for the Paraguayans to hold on to the
Brazilian vessels after they got alongside them, for the latter, being
screws, managed to slide away from them. Strange to say, grappling
irons had been forgotten.

Colonel Thompson says that whenever the Paraguayans boarded, a portion
of the Brazilian crew would jump overboard, some of whom were drowned,
and some swam ashore, all the latter being killed as soon as they
landed.

Burton remarks that the failure to bring grappling irons on an
expedition where boarding the enemy was to be a feature, reminded
him of an English attack upon some Sikh batteries, where the English
engineers forgot to bring spikes.

The Paraguayan launches, which had been towed down below the
Brazilians, got adrift, and as they could not get up again, against the
current, were eventually captured.

At the end of the first period of the action the Brazilians had lost
three vessels in a very few minutes, and their case seemed very
doubtful.

Just then a man of ability came to the front, and saved the day. The
chief pilot of the Brazilian fleet was the son of an Italian emigrant,
named Gastavino. This man, seeing that the Brazilian commanding
officers had entirely lost their self possession, and were doing
nothing, and giving no orders, took matters into his own hands. He
drove the Amazonas at the Paraguayan flag-ship, cleared her deck with
grape, and ran her down. Next he finished the Salto and Olinda, in
the same manner; the Amazonas being so high out of water that the
Paraguayans could not board her as she came in contact with them. He
wound up by sinking the Jejui with his guns. The Marquis Olinda had
previously had a shot in her boilers, and almost all her crew were
either scalded, or killed or wounded by grape. The other Paraguayan
vessels, Tacuari, Igurey and Salto, also suffered in their boilers, and
had nearly all their crews killed or wounded.

During the height of the engagement, the Brazilian Paranahyba and the
Paraguayan Tacuari fouled. The Paraguayans boarded, sword in hand; at
sight of them, most of the crew of the Paranahyba jumped overboard.
Her decks were filled with the desperate Paraguayans, and the other
Brazilian vessels were afraid to use their guns upon her, for fear of
injuring the few of their people who were bravely resisting. These few
brave men made so good a resistance that the Paraguayan commander,
Mésa, became alarmed for his own safety, and endeavored to retire
to his cabin. In so doing he was mortally wounded by a musket ball.
The next officer in command to Mésa was hopelessly drunk, and the
Brazilians succeeded in backing the Paranahyba away, and she escaped,
after much slaughter.

The battle lasted eight hours; and at last the four remaining
Paraguayan steamers slowly and sullenly retreated up the stream.

These must also have been taken or destroyed if Vice-Admiral Barroso
had done his duty, and pursued with vigor. For his very equivocal
conduct on this occasion he was made a Baron. The pilot, who really
fought the battle, and saved the day to the Brazilians, was made a
Lieutenant.

The English Engineer, Watts, by his ability and good conduct secured
the retreat of the four Paraguayan vessels, it is confidently asserted.
For this Lopez gave him the lowest order of his Legion of Honor, and,
three years afterwards, towards the close of the war, he had him
arrested and shot, as a traitor.

Mésa died of his wound in a few hours. He would have been shot by
Lopez, if he had returned unwounded, at any rate; and not undeservedly.

Both sides claimed a victory; but the Brazilians certainly had the
best of it, and had put a stop to the offensive campaign of Lopez; as
they could now blockade the river above Corrientes, and their presence
there compelled the withdrawal of the Paraguayan advance corps in
Entre Rios, and the evacuation of Uruguayana. Had Lopez’ squadron been
successful he would have had command of the whole river, and must have
held it until the Brazilians got their iron-clads down.

The Brazilians were unable to raise their sunken vessels, being driven
off by the flying batteries of Bruguez, until such time as they were
not worth working at.

Parts of the crews of the destroyed Paraguayan vessels got on shore on
the Chaco side of the river. The Brazilians sent an armed boat to take
them off, but the Paraguayans killed all the crew, and seized the boat.
These men were in the desert Chaco for three days and a half, without
food, and at last, when the Brazilians left the river free, crossed
over safely to their own side.

Their desperate devotion was something wonderful. The Paraguayan
captain of the Olinda was wounded, and taken, a prisoner, on board
the Amazonas, where he had his arm amputated. Rather than remain a
prisoner, and thus be declared by Lopez a traitor, he tore off the
bandages and ligatures, and died.

On the thirteenth of the month the Brazilian fleet ran down the river,
past the field batteries at Riachuelo, and operations ceased for the
time.

The Brazilian officers confessed that at one time it was “touch and go”
with them.

Had the Paraguayans carried grappling irons, and gone straight
alongside at first, it is altogether probable that they would have
captured the whole Brazilian fleet. But the screw steamers, having been
allowed time to get up steam, slipped away from their opponents, who
were inexperienced as watermen, and who were baffled by the high sides
and boarding-nettings of their man-of-war-built enemies.

It is a curious fact that not one of the Brazilian 120 and 150-pounder
Whitworth shot hit a Paraguayan vessel; and the Paraguayans only knew
that they had them by afterwards finding the shot, some of them five
miles inland.

A large picture of the Amazonas at the battle of Riachuelo was
exhibited in the Brazilian department of the Centennial Exhibition, at
Philadelphia.

THE BATTLE OF THE BANK.

When the land forces of the Allies at last invaded Paraguay, they
reached the Parana, after some preliminary skirmishing; and, with
50,000 men, and 100 guns, prepared to cross that river, to effect a
lodgment on Paraguayan soil. Lopez had a force of two or three thousand
men in observation at Encarnacion, and seeing these ready to oppose a
crossing, the Allies altered their plans, and marched down the Parana,
intending to cross at Paso la Patria.

On March 21st, 1866, the Allied fleet came up to Corrientes, and
anchored, in line-of-battle, extending from Corrales to the mouth of
the Paraguay.

Their fleet was now an imposing one for river warfare. They had
eighteen steam gun-boats, carrying from six to eight guns each, four
iron-clad vessels, three with casemates, and one, the Bahia, a monitor,
with revolving turret, and two 150-pounder Whitworth guns, in all one
hundred and twenty-five guns.

Two of the steamers and the ironclad Tamandaré were sent up the Parana,
to reconnoitre, but soon returned, after getting on shore and being in
some jeopardy. There was a work on the right or Paraguayan bank, some
distance from the confluence, called Itapirú. In the Allied reports it
is designated as a fortress. It was really a dilapidated battery, of
about thirty yards internal diameter; and at that time armed with one
rifled, 12-pounder field gun.

The Parana is here quite deep, except in one place, where there was
only twelve feet of water in the northern channel, and here some scows,
loaded with stones, had been sunk, which closed that channel. The
Paraguayans had, at this point, the steamer Gualeguay, armed with two
12-pounders, and two flat-bottomed boats, with an 8-inch gun mounted in
each.

On the 22d the Gualeguay towed one of these boats down half a mile
below Itapirú, and moored her close in under the right bank. The scow
at once opened upon the Brazilian fleet, and, in a short time, had put
four eight-inch shot into the Admiral’s ship.

Three ironclads were sent up as soon as possible, and approached the
scow, keeping up an incessant fire. The Paraguayans made excellent
practice, in the meantime, with their eight-inch guns, seldom failing
to hit one of their opponents. At last the ironclads approached within
about one hundred yards, and the crew of the scow left and took to the
woods. The Brazilians then lowered and manned three boats, and sent
them to take possession of the scow and her gun. As they reached her,
some infantry, numbering about one hundred, who were concealed in the
woods, gave the boats a volley, which killed or wounded about half of
their crews; the rest made off and returned to their vessels.

The ironclads then continued to fire at the abandoned scow, and at last
blew up the magazine, and she sunk. The gun was not injured, and was
recovered by the Paraguayans.

On the 27th they towed the other gun-boat to the same place, and
opened upon the Brazilian fleet again, and the ironclads renewed the
same tactics as before. This time the Paraguayans had their boat very
close in to the bank, and kept their cartridges on shore, to avoid
being blown up. Most of their 68-pound shot struck the ironclads, but
flew in pieces. Some penetrated, however. One struck the Tamandaré
at the edge of a port, broke in pieces, and the fragments entered,
killing every one in that part of the casemate, including the first
and second Captains, three other officers, and eighteen men killed,
and fifteen wounded. The Tamandaré was driven off by this shot. The
two other ironclads kept up the fire, responded to by the Paraguayan
musketry from the woods, and at nine o’clock at night the Brazilians
retired, having effected nothing. Next day four ironclads and four
wooden gun-boats came up to engage this doughty Paraguayan 8-pounder.
On this day the ironclad Barroso got four holes through her plates, and
all the rest of them were more or less damaged, until, at last, the
Paraguayan gun was struck, and fairly broken in two. Strange to say,
not a Paraguayan was hurt.

On the night of the 29th, these irrepressible people, having recovered
the 8-inch gun from the first scow, endeavored to bring a boat from
Humáitá, to mount it upon. Their audacity was such that they towed
it, with canoes, down the Paraguay to the confluence, and then up the
Parana, and all this under a bright moonlight. At last the Brazilians
saw them, before they had reached their goal, and the gun-boats steamed
up, to capture an empty scow. The men had made off, in the canoes, up
the Parana.

These Paraguayan gun-boats thus constantly engaged the whole Brazilian
fleet. But it must be remembered that a mere float, of this kind,
bearing a gun, was very difficult to hit. For a week after this, the
steamer Gualeguay went out every afternoon, and fired at the Brazilian
fleet with her two 12-pounders. This was done principally for Lopez’
amusement, and he, at a safe distance, had excellent long glasses
mounted, with which he watched the performances. The Brazilian fleet
would dash up the water, all about the Gualeguay, with every kind of
missile, from a 68 to a 150-pounder, and yet this steamboat never
received any damage but one hole in her smoke-stack.

In some of the subsequent bombardments, Lopez would take up his
quarters in a secure bomb-proof, and receive exact reports of every gun
fired; what it had effected, and so forth. But he never exposed himself
for a moment.

The Allied artillery, on the left bank of the Parana, kept up a heavy
fire upon the post of Itapirú. But there was nothing there to receive
any damage, the 12-pounder being snugly stowed away for an occasion.
This continued for some time; until, at last, the Brazilians occupied
a sand bank, or bar, in the river, opposite Itapirú, and mounted eight
guns there, with two thousand men in trenches. From this point they
reopened a fire upon the work, which seemed a perfect bugbear to them.

On the 10th of April the Paraguayans attacked this bank, or bar; and
the naval part of the enterprise consisted in their coming in canoes.

Nine hundred men were embarked, in divisions of four hundred and fifty
each; with a reserve of four hundred at Itapirú. It was a dark night,
and the canoes, propelled by paddles, arrived at the bank, or bar,
at four o’clock in the morning. It was a complete surprise; and the
Paraguayans delivered one volley, and then charged with the bayonet,
taking the trenches. They were soon driven out of them again, however,
by overwhelming numbers; retook them, and were again driven out. The
Brazilian guns opened with canister, and the Paraguayans lost heavily
from this source. Two hundred of them were dismounted cavalrymen, armed
only with their swords, but they did great execution, charging up to
the guns, and taking them; but being again driven off by heavy musketry
fire.

As soon as the firing was heard below several gunboats and ironclads
came up, and surrounded the island, while the garrison was reinforced
from the left bank.

At last the Paraguayans were almost all killed or wounded, and those
who could move pushed off in their canoes, some paddling with one arm
who had the other one wounded. The daylight had appeared, and they
were forced to stem a heavy current, under the fire of the Brazilian
vessels, at close quarters; and yet fifteen canoes got back to their
own shore.

The Paraguayans lost fourteen officers killed, and seven wounded. Of
the soldiers three hundred returned, almost all wounded, and they left
five hundred men on the bank, or bar. Among the prisoners taken by the
Brazilians was a Lieutenant Roméro; and Lopez forced his wife to write
a letter disowning him as a traitor to Paraguay, because he had allowed
himself to be taken alive.

In this affair the Brazilians lost about a thousand, killed and
wounded, many more than the whole attacking force. The fire of their
own steamers destroyed a number of these.

Six Brazilians were afterwards tried for cowardice in this engagement,
and were shot.

In February, 1868, the Brazilian iron-clad vessels succeeded in passing
Humáitá, the extensive works above the confluence of the rivers, which
had so long kept them in check.

On the 13th three new monitors had arrived from Rio Janeiro, and joined
their squadron. They were built in Rio Janeiro, and had twin screws,
with four inches of iron on the hull, which was only one foot out of
the water, when prepared for action in fresh water. They had each one
revolving turret, six inches thick, with one heavy Whitworth gun in
each. The circular port for the gun was barely larger than the muzzle,
and when run out was flush with the face of the turret. Elevation
and depression of a gun so placed was obtained by means of a double
carriage, which raised or lowered the trunnions.

On February 18th everything was ready, and at half past three in the
morning the Brazilians began to bombard the Paraguayan works most
furiously.

The large casemate ironclads, each with a monitor lashed alongside,
then steamed up to the batteries at Humáitá. The fire of these
batteries was well sustained, and true, as the Paraguayan fire had
always been, but their cast-iron shot flew to pieces on the armor of
the ironclads, which passed without serious damage. After passing the
works they continued straight on, past more batteries, at Timbó, to
Tayi. The batteries at Timbó were water batteries, and injured the
ironclads more than all the others they had passed. In this passage
one of the Brazilian monitors received no less than one hundred and
eighty shot; and another one was hit one hundred and twenty times.
Their plates were dented and bent, and the bolts started, but there was
little or no loss of life on board them.

If one or two of the Brazilian ironclads had remained between Humáitá
and Timbó, instead of all running by the latter place, the works of
the former would have been really closely invested; and as the object
of running the batteries was to cause the surrender of Humáitá, the
movement was to that extent a failure. The Paraguayans evacuated their
works at their leisure, taking guns and stores.

THE RIVER FIGHT AT TAYI.

Twice, in the year 1868, the Paraguayans attacked the Brazilian
monitors lying off Tayi, just above the influx of the river Bermejo.

These desperate attacks showed the most heroic bravery and devotion,
but were never successful.

Upon one occasion the iron-clad vessels Lima-Barros and Cabral were
attacked, and on another the Barroso and the monitor Rio Grande.

After the last attack, in July, the Brazilians threw a boom across the
stream, which would detain their enemies, descending in their canoes,
long enough to give time for preparation.

These Paraguayan boats were admirably adapted for navigating those
waters, where there was a rapid current and many sand-bars, constantly
shifting, with channels, more or less deep, between them.

The canoes were built so that only a part of the central section was
borne by the water, and they were consequently easily turned, while
they glided over the water, propelled by spoon-shaped paddles. Some of
these craft were very large, and would carry a cargo of many tons.

On the first occasion that the ironclads were attacked by means of
these canoes, an expedition consisting of twelve hundred men was
organized, under the command of a Captain Xenes, and armed with swords
and hand-grenades only.

The men were all paraded before Madame Lynch, the mistress of Lopez,
who, after distributing cigars among them, with great condescension,
told them to “go, and bring me back my ironclads.” The men answered
her with “vivas,” and went contentedly off upon their desperate
undertaking.

It was a dark night. The canoes were lashed in pairs, with eighteen or
twenty feet of slack rope between each pair. By this means they hoped
to make sure of boarding, the canoes of each pair swinging round on
opposite sides of the bows of the Brazilians.

There were forty-eight canoes, each carrying twenty-five men. The
Lima-Barros and Cabral were in advance of the main body, up the stream.
Many of the canoes were carried past them by the current, into the
midst of the Brazilian fleet. But about half of them hit the advanced
vessels, and the Paraguayans sprang on board, unperceived. The crews
were sleeping on the decks, outside, and some fifty were at once killed
by the boarders. The remainder rushed below, and into the turrets,
and secured the ports and hatches. The Paraguayans attempted to throw
hand-grenades into the port-holes, and “ran about seeking ingress,
like a cat attacking a trapped mouse,” in the meantime loading the
Brazilians with all sorts of epithets, and daring them to come out and
fight with the sword, like men.

The Lima-Barros and Cabral were thus virtually captured, but by this
time the rest of the fleet were aroused, and soon two more ironclads
came steaming up to their relief. They swept the Paraguayans from the
decks with grape and canister, and those who were not blown to pieces
in this manner were obliged to take to the water, and swim for life.
Very few of them survived to tell the tale.

It is surprising that people so utterly fearless and devoted never made
very serious attempts to blow up the Brazilian ironclads, especially
as there were so many ways of doing so, and plenty who were ready to
attempt it, even at the sacrifice of their own lives.

The best informed foreigners who were in Paraguay at that time thought
that they wanted the vessels themselves so much that they hesitated to
destroy them, hoping that an opportunity to board them successfully
would occur at some time. The same persons thought that if they had
even had one fairly good ironclad they would have completely cleared
the river of the Brazilians. On the part of Paraguay the war was
premature. Lopez had ordered armored vessels and rifled guns of heavy
calibre in Europe, but so late that the war was upon him, and the river
blockaded, before they could be delivered.

[Illustration: THE DREADNOUGHT.

(The most powerful Ironclad of the English Navy.)]

THE CAPTURE OF THE HUASCAR. OCTOBER 8TH, 1879.

This recent and important action between iron-clad vessels, at sea, is
remarkable in many ways, and is especially interesting to naval men, as
armored vessels had, with perhaps a single exception, not come together
before, upon the high seas.

Fortunately, we have accounts of the battle from Lieutenants Mason and
Ingersoll, of the United States Navy, Clements Markham, Lieutenant
Madan, R. N., and others--of whose accounts this article will be a
condensation.

The action took place in the forenoon, off Mexillones de Bolivia.

The “Huascar,” a Peruvian man-of-war, was of the old type of English
turret ships, and had been employed continuously, at sea, for many
months, so that her bottom was very foul, while her boilers were not
in condition to make steam properly. These two causes had very much
reduced her speed. Her commander, Admiral Grau, had wished to overhaul
her, but his representations were overruled, from considerations of
policy, and she was despatched to the south, upon what proved to be her
last cruise under the Peruvian flag.

When in order, she was known to be much faster than the Chilian vessels
which she was to encounter, and her loss may fairly be put down to
this disregard of professional advice and warning.

The Chilian ironclad, “Almirante Cochrane,” her principal opponent, as
well as the “Blanco Encalada,” which participated in the latter part of
the action, were nearly new casemated vessels; and their constructor,
Mr. Reed, had said that they ought to sink the “Huascar” in five
minutes.

This latter vessel had done good service in the war between Peru and
Chili, in interfering with the only transportation possible for the
Chilians, who were the aggressors, and who carried the war into the
Peruvian boundaries. Her commander, Rear-Admiral Grau, was an excellent
officer, and rendered himself quite famous by his sudden dashes into
Chilian ports, capturing transports and lighters, and interfering
with the submarine cable, so necessary for the success of the Chilian
operations.

The “Huascar” had made four successful cruises, or rather “raids,” to
the southward, in one of which she had captured the “Rimac,” a fine
steamer, having on board a fully-equipped battalion of cavalry and a
large amount of military stores. Among other curious things which came
under the latter head was a complete outfit of water-skins, which were
being sent to the Chilian Army at Antofagasta, to enable it to carry
water, in crossing the desert of Atacama, to operate upon the province
of Tarapaca.

This desert had been discovered to contain an immense deposit of
nitrate of soda, and the struggle which had been impending for some
years between the two nations was precipitated by the desire of Chili
to possess this source of wealth.

Soon after this success the “Huascar” appeared off the harbor of
Antofagasta, at night, and with a “Lay” torpedo attacked a Chilian
wooden corvette lying there. Instead of striking the enemy’s vessel,
the torpedo made a half circle, and came back upon the “Huascar.” A
lieutenant of the latter vessel, seeing the imminent danger, jumped
overboard, and swam to meet the torpedo, which was moving slowly, and
diverted it from its course, saving the “Huascar.” The name of this
lieutenant was Firmin Diaz Canséco.

The next day after this unsuccessful attempt she had an engagement with
the shore batteries and two corvettes, in which she did much damage,
and received some herself. She, at this time had exchanged a native
crew for one composed mostly of foreigners, and men trained as gunners,
who could give a better account of the 300-pound shells thrown by her
guns.

In September, 1879, there had been a very considerable change in the
officers of the Chilian squadron, and a change of policy, as well. The
“Almirante Cochrane,” and “Blanco Encalada” (the latter the flag-ship
of Commodore Riveros), proceeded north, accompanied by the wooden
corvettes “O’Higgins” and “Covadonga,” and the armed transports “Loa”
and “Mathias Cousiño.” They expected to find the “Huascar” in Arica,
but arrived there only to find that she had sailed for the south; and
they at once returned to Mexillones Bay, where they coaled, and awaited
instructions and events.

On the morning of October 5th the “Huascar” appeared in the harbor of
Coquimbo, in company with the corvette “Union.” There were a number of
foreign men-of-war lying there, and their officers were much struck by
the handling of the Peruvian vessels; so quiet, able, and seamanlike,
opposed to the usual noisy manner of carrying on duty to be observed
in South American men-of-war. They did not even blow off steam when
slowing down.

There was corresponding quiet on shore, where were batteries armed
with the heaviest modern guns; and the Peruvians were allowed to
retire unscathed, after thoroughly searching the harbor. They went out
again before daylight, but hung about to the southward of the port,
getting news, from mail steamers, of the Chilian vessels coming to the
northward.

During the next two days they moved up the coast; and Admiral Grau
determined to look into Arica, where the Chilian squadron was supposed
to be. Leaving the “Union” on the look-out, the “Huascar” ran in
towards the anchorage of Antofagasta, at about half-past one, on the
morning of October 8th. Finding nothing there, she ran out, and joined
the “Union” again, in about two hours. Both vessels now headed north.
Soon after they made out the smoke of three vessels coming down the
coast, southward, and about six miles distant. These were quickly
recognized as vessels of war, and the “Huascar’s” course was changed,
at about 3.30 A. M., to southwest.

The Chilian squadron at Mexillones, having coaled, put to sea on the
night of the 7th, in two divisions. The first division, consisting of
the slower vessels, the “Blanco,” “Covadonga,” and “Mathias Cousiño,”
sailed at 10 P. M., and steered down the coast towards Antofagasta;
the second division, under commander La Farré, consisting of the
“Cochrane,” “O’Higgins,” and “Loa,” sailing on the morning of the 8th,
before daylight, with orders to cruise twenty-five miles off Point
Angamos. This was done in consequence of telegraphic instruction from
the Chilian authorities. The Commodore had intended to move south,
along the coast, in similar divisions, the first skirting the coast,
and looking in at the bays, while the second kept pace with them, about
forty miles off shore.

The result was the same, whichever plan had been followed.

At half-past three in the morning of the 8th of October, the weather
being fine and clear, the smoke of two vessels approaching, under Point
Letas, and distant about six miles, was reported from the top of the
“Blanco.”

At daylight the enemies recognized each other.

The “Huascar” ran to the southwest for an hour, under full speed,
making nearly eleven knots; the “Blanco” and “Covadonga” following,
and making less than eight knots. The “Mathias Cousiño” was first
sent in towards Antofagasta, but, later, turned and followed her
consorts. Riveros, the Chilian Commodore, soon saw that such a chase
was hopeless; but still, on the chance of an accident to the machinery
of the “Huascar,” or her consort, or of their turning to the northward,
and being cut off by his second division, he determined to continue it.

The Peruvians could not afford to run any risks with their ships. If
the “Huascar” was lost, it would entail serious consequences to the
Peruvian cause; and it was therefore proper for Grau to attempt escape.
Finding that he could outrun his pursuers, he reduced his speed, and
turned his ships’ heads to the northward. Not very long after this,
smoke was seen to the northwest, and, having diverged a little from
her course, to reconnoitre, the “Huascar” recognized the Chilian
“Cochrane,” and her consorts. At about the same time the “Huascar” was
seen from the “Cochrane,” and the “Loa” was sent to reconnoitre.

Grau had supposed that the “Cochrane” only steamed eight knots, and
thought he could easily run away from her, so he stood toward the
“Loa,” for a short time Finding, however, that the “Cochrane” was
changing her bearings more rapidly than he had anticipated, he stood
more to the eastward, and ordered “full speed.”

The “Union,” which had been on the “Huascar’s” port quarter, now, at
about 8 A. M., crossed her stern, and passed to starboard of her, at
full speed. This vessel made the best of her way to Arica; followed,
until dark, by the Chilian ships “O’Higgins” and “Loa.”

There appears to have been a good deal of criticism upon the commanding
officers of these three ships--the first for not engaging, and the
others for not continuing the pursuit.

The three ironclads were now comparatively close to each other, and
Grau saw that his only chance of escape lay in his speed. There were
but three courses open to him.

First--to turn boldly and meet the “Cochrane,” and, though inferior in
gun power, endeavor to ram or cripple her, before the “Blanco” could
come up.

Secondly--to endeavor to escape to the northeast, between the
“Cochrane” and the shore, trusting to have superior speed.

Thirdly--to turn round and engage, or escape past, the “Blanco.”

Grau chose the second course.

At nine A. M., the “Cochrane” having approached within about four
thousand yards, and it being evident that she could cross his bows,
Grau ordered his crew to quarters and entered his iron-cased conning
tower, where he was alone. In going to quarters, on board the
“Huascar,” an accident took place, in shifting the steering-gear from
the usual situation to the protected one, in the turret chamber, under
the conning tower.

While a make-shift tackle was being rove the “Huascar” yawed
considerably.

At half-past nine, the “Cochrane” being about 3000 yards distant,
the “Huascar” opened fire with her turret guns. The second shot
ricochetted, and entered the “Cochrane’s” unarmored bow, doing some
damage, but not exploding. At this time the Chilian “Blanco” was about
six miles astern. The “Cochrane” did not answer the “Huascar’s” two
shots; but stood on until within two thousand yards, when she opened
fire. The first shot penetrated the “Huascar’s” armor on the port side,
entered the turret-chamber, and exploded, set fire to the wood-work,
killed or wounded twelve men, and jammed the wheels on which the turret
revolved, for the time being. The “Huascar” fired a 300-pound Palliser
chilled shell, and struck the “Cochrane’s” side armor, at an angle of
about thirty degrees. The plate struck was six inches thick, and was
indented, and scored out to a depth of three inches, the bolts started,
and the backing forced in.

The “Huascar” soon after stood a little to port, with the intention
of ramming the “Cochrane,” but the latter avoided this, by turning an
equal amount to port, and keeping parallel with her antagonist.

Five minutes after the “Huascar’s” conning tower was struck by a
shell, which exploded in it, shattered it, and blew Admiral Grau to
pieces--only one foot and a few fragments of his body being found.
Grau usually directed the movements of his vessel with his head and
shoulders above the tower, and the shell, therefore, probably hit him
at about the waist.

This shot also killed Lieutenant Diego Ferré, the Admiral’s Aid, who
was at the fighting wheel, and only separated from the conning tower
by a light wooden grating. Ferré’s death appears to have been caused
by concussion, as no wounds were found upon his body. This shot also
damaged the fighting wheel, and the ship ran off to the eastward until
the damage was repaired, when she again headed to the northward.

About this time a shell penetrated the armor of the turret, which was
trained on the port-quarter, in the thickest part, to the left of the
port of the right gun. This shell killed or disabled most of the two
guns’ crews.

Among these were two gun-captains, Englishmen, who had been trained on
board the gunnery-ship, “Excellent,” and Commander Carbajal, who had
come to inform the second in command, Commander Elias Aguirre, that he
was now in command.

The left gun was not injured, and relief crews were sent to it; but
the firing was very wild. The right gun was disabled by the compressor
and cap-square being bent. At this time Lieutenant Rodriguez, who
was looking out of the gun-port, had his head taken off. This, in
connection with the previous casualties, so demoralized the Peruvians
that most of the subsequent fighting was done by the foreigners of the
“Huascar’s” ship’s company. By this time the fire from the Nordenfelt
guns and the small arms of the Chilians had driven most of the officers
and men of the “Huascar” down into the ward-room. Some of these were
wounded, but the most were merely taking refuge there.

The “Cochrane” now attempted to ram, coming at right angles to her
adversary. She missed the “Huascar,” going close astern of her, but a
shot from one of her port-guns pierced the armor of the “Huascar,” on
the starboard quarter, exploding, and doing much damage--among other
things, carrying away the steering apparatus.

The “Huascar” now again headed to the eastward: but a shell pierced the
armor, abreast of the engine-room, covering the engine with fragments
of all kinds, and killing and wounding many persons. Among these were
Surgeon Tavara, and Mr. Griffiths, the master of the English schooner
“Coquimbo,” captured a few days before, and whose crew had been forced
to render service during the action.

The relieving tackles, by which the “Huascar” was now steered, were not
only exposed to shot, but had a very bad lead, and the steering was
very uncertain, not only from that cause, but because Commander Aguirre
had to command the vessel from one of the look-out hoods of the turret,
and the word had to be passed clear aft, on the lower deck, to the men
at the relieving tackles. There was, probably, not much real control of
the “Huascar” after the conning tower was destroyed, Grau killed, and
the main steering wheel disabled.

The “Cochrane” now again attempted to ram the “Huascar,” firing her
bow-gun, at two hundred yards, and coming on at right angles. She again
missed her blow, and passed astern.

It was by this time ten o’clock, and the “Blanco” arrived on the scene
of action, passing between the “Huascar” and the “Cochrane,” just as
the latter was preparing to ram, for the third time. The “Cochrane,” to
avoid the imminent danger in which she was placed by her consort’s ram,
was forced to turn to port, and then to run northward, increasing her
distance to about twelve hundred yards.

The “Huascar” then turned to starboard, and headed for the “Blanco,”
with the intention of ramming her, at the same time firing some
ineffectual shots at her. The “Blanco” sheered to starboard also, and
passing close under her stern, poured a broadside into that vulnerable
part, which killed or wounded all the men at the relieving tackles, as
well as many of the wounded, and the others who had taken refuge in the
officers’ quarters. The wounded were now removed to the coal-bunkers
and store-rooms; and the “Huascar” stood to the westward.

On account of a number of shot having passed through her smoke-stack,
driving down soot, débris of all kinds, and smoke into the fire-room,
it was impossible to see the gauges. In consequence, the water got too
low in one of the boilers, and the tubes were burned through, which
caused a great escape of steam; so that the Chilians thought they had
struck one of the boilers.

There had been four men stationed at a Gatling gun, in the “Huascar’s”
top, but three were killed, and the other driven below, by the fire
from the Chilian tops, although the “Huascar’s” top had a screen of
boiler-iron.

About half-past ten the flag-staff, with the “Huascar’s” colors, was
shot away, and for some moments all firing ceased, as it was supposed
she had surrendered; but a Frenchman, who was a loader at one of the
guns, went aft, and hoisted another flag at her gaff. Just then another
shot penetrated the turret of the “Huascar,” killing or mortally
wounding every man in it, including Commander Aguirre. This shot had
such terrible effect that when this officer’s body was found and
identified, all the upper part of the head was gone, the lower jaw only
remaining. In addition his body was most fearfully mutilated. Another
officer was terribly wounded by this shot.

The command of the “Huascar” had now devolved upon the fourth officer,
Lieutenant Pedro Garezon. The vessel was almost unmanageable, and
on fire in several places, but the engines were kept going, and an
occasional gun fired.

The “Cochrane” now returned, and again tried to ram, and was only
prevented from doing so by a chance movement of the “Huascar.”

Both Chilian ships then followed up the Peruvian, using great guns,
musketry and machine guns. They were both in good condition, although
the “Cochrane” had been struck on her unarmored stern, and had some ten
men killed and wounded.

The “Covadonga” now came up, and joined the other Chilian vessels,
and Lieutenant Garezon, after a council with the surviving officers,
determined to sink the “Huascar,” by opening her valves, and thus
deprive his enemies of the satisfaction of taking possession of her.

Chief Engineer McMahon succeeded in partially accomplishing this, by
opening the circulating valve of the condensers, but to do this he had
to stop the engines. They were at work on the main injection valve when
Lieutenant Simpson, of the “Cochrane,” who had boarded her, interfered
with the operation, revolver in hand.

While this was going on, some of the “Huascar’s” men waved towels and
handkerchiefs, and the Chilians, on seeing this, ceased firing, and the
“Huascar’s” flag was then hauled down.

It was at this moment that Simpson boarded her, and then came surgeons
and engineers from the Chilians.

On taking possession they found three or four feet of water in
the hold. Some of the holes made by projectiles in her sides were
nearly awash, and in a few minutes more the vessel would have sunk.
She was also found to be on fire in several places, one of which
was dangerously near the magazine. Fortunately the sea was smooth.
The valves were closed, the steam pumps started, and the fires
extinguished. The wounded and the prisoners were then transferred to
the Chilian ships.

The “Huascar’s” engines were uninjured, as were three out of her four
boilers, and they were able to get her into port, at Mexillones, that
same afternoon; and in two days, after temporary repairs, she was sent
to Valparaiso. Here proper plates were found, which had been sent out
from England for the “O’Higgins;” and by the 8th of the succeeding
December she was in active service again under the Chilian flag.

The scene presented on board the “Huascar,” when boarded by her
captors, was most terrible. Hardly a square yard of her upper works
had escaped injury, including her smoke-stack, conning tower, boats,
davits, mast and chain-plates. Her bulwarks, poop, forecastle and
hatch-combings were much injured, while her capstan was struck and
knocked entirely overboard. During the latter part of the fight,
indeed, the Peruvian had been little more than a floating target for
the Chilian’s accurate fire.

Eighteen dead bodies were taken out of the cabin, and the turret was
full of the remains of the two sets of guns’ crews.

The light wood-work, ladders and bulkheads were all destroyed. The
ship’s log-book had been destroyed, but complete working drawings of
the “Blanco” and “Cochrane” were found on board.

The action lasted one hour and a half; and during this time the
“Huascar” lost her commander and the three next senior officers, either
killed or disabled, and had twenty-eight officers and men killed, and
forty-eight wounded, out of a crew of about two hundred.

[Illustration:

(ENLARGED VIEW OF TURRET.)

APPEARANCE OF THE HUASCAR AFTER CAPTURE.]

Nearly every time she was struck the greatest temporary damage possible
was inflicted, and yet no permanent injury was caused. The armor was
really a disadvantage to her, for it served to explode the enemy’s
projectiles, which only stopped when they struck at the very
smallest angles. The backing and inner skin only served to increase the
number of fragments, which were driven in with deadly effect. The shell
which passed through the thin sides of the forecastle did not explode,
and did but little damage. Each shell which pierced the armor exploded,
and each explosion set the ship on fire in a new place. The Chilian
small-arm men and the Nordenfelt machine gun drove all the Peruvians
off the deck, and away from the unprotected guns there. The “Cochrane”
fired forty-five Palliser shells. The “Blanco” fired thirty-one. It
is thought that the “Huascar” fired about forty projectiles from her
turret guns.

The “Cochrane” was hit three times. The “Blanco” was untouched, while
the “Huascar” received at least sixteen large Palliser shells, besides
Nordenfelt bullets and shrapnel. The shot-holes in the “Huascar” were
so jagged and irregular that no ordinary stoppers could be of any
service.

The officers who have given us the account of this action make a number
of practical deductions and suggestions of great importance, but not
necessary to be quoted here.

[Illustration: STEEL TORPEDO BOAT AND POLE.]

BOMBARDMENT OF ALEXANDRIA. JULY 11TH, A. D. 1882.

It would be rather presumptuous for any one to attempt at this time
to give the real causes of the bombardment of Alexandria, and of the
subsequent operations of the British army in Egypt. The Egyptian
leader, Arabi Pasha, has been tried, and the tribunal, while sparing
his life, sentenced him to be banished to Ceylon, where he is now.
Nothing definite was made public, however, as to the assurances of
support and sympathy which he is supposed to have had, not only from
the Sublime Porte, but from other nations.

Egyptian politics may be symbolized by a tangled skein which time alone
can unravel. Some day it may be known whether the ostensible reasons
brought a great calamity about, or whether secret and less worthy
motives caused the action of the British ministry, and controlled their
fleet and army.

In the summer of 1882 Arabi Pasha, who had complete control of the
military force of Egypt, although the Khedive had not been formally
deposed, was strengthening the forts about Alexandria, and increasing
their armament. As he was opposed to English or any foreign control
in Egypt, England naturally felt alarm for the safety of the Suez
Canal, which is so vitally important for her communications with her
great Eastern empire, as well as for her general commerce. Admiral
Sir Beauchamp Seymour, with a powerful squadron of the largest
ironclads and a number of gun-boats, had been ordered to Alexandria, in
observation.

The city of Alexandria, named from its founder, Alexander the Great,
has experienced many vicissitudes. The modern city is built on a
peninsula, which was formerly the Island of Pharos, and on the isthmus
connecting it with the mainland. The ancient city was on the mainland,
where its ruins cover a vast extent of surface.

Founded nearly three and a half centuries before the Christian era, it
rose, under the liberal and beneficent sway of the Ptolemies, to great
eminence as a seat of learning, as well as of commerce. Under the Roman
Empire it continued to be a very splendid and influential city, second
only to Rome herself, and engrossing the lucrative traffic with India.
Its library was one of the wonders of the world--400,000 volumes being
in the Museum, and 300,000 in the temple of Serapis. The former was
accidentally destroyed by fire during the war with Julius Cæsar; and
the latter was burnt by command of Caliph Omar, upon the Mohammedan
conquest, in the year 640. After the discovery by the Portuguese of the
route to India by the Cape of Good Hope, its commerce fell off, and its
population dwindled to a few thousands. Gradually it revived again,
and for a long time has been the most important commercial city of the
Levant, with a very large foreign as well as native population. But,
to return: On July 6th, 1882, Admiral Seymour sent an _ultimatum_ to
Arabi and his council, which had the effect of stopping work upon the
fortifications for a short time, and produced a promise that such work
should not be renewed.

But on the following night a powerful electric light, on board the
ironclad Alexandra, of the English squadron, disclosed the fact that,
under cover of the darkness, guns were being mounted on the forts
commanding the entrance to the great port, or western harbor--there
being two harbors, one east and one west of the isthmus. New guns were
placed in position on the north side, also, on the peninsula where the
Harem, or residence of the Khedive is situated, and which forms the
protection to the main anchorage. Earthworks were also being thrown up
there by a very large force.

Seymour telegraphed these facts to the British government, summoned a
council of his officers, and made preparations for battle. He then sent
a demand to the Egyptian authorities for the surrender of the forts to
him within twenty-four hours, with a view to disarmament, under penalty
of bombardment.

There was a French fleet in the port, which had been ordered to take no
part in any aggressive measures; and there were also naval vessels of
several other nations, among which were some of our own, the commanders
of which had been very active in affording refuge to Americans resident
in Egypt, as well as to citizens of other countries who were not
represented by men-of-war.

The French fleet, seeing hostilities imminent, got under way, and
steamed out into the offing, followed by the other foreign men-of-war
and merchant vessels. Many of these were crowded with refugees, but
there were left in the city a large number of Greeks, Italians,
Maltese, and Syrians.

The British ships then proceeded to take up their stations before the
forts, and a panic ensued among the inhabitants, who quitted the city,
as did most of the Europeans who had remained. This they effected
with great difficulty, and there was a prospect of the renewal of the
massacre which had taken place some weeks before. The cash chest of the
European Director of Customs, which were managed for the benefit of the
foreign bondholders, was seized by Arabi, but the officials managed to
get away.

On the 10th of July a deputation of Egyptian notables came off to the
English flag-ship, to know the meaning of these warlike preparations.
They had not heard of the _ultimatum_, which had not reached them, by
some blunder, whether on the part of the English or the natives does
not appear; and, indeed, the document was brought off to them while
they were still on board the ship, by messengers who had been searching
for them. They then went on shore, to consider it.

Very early next morning, the 11th of July, a deputation of Egyptian
officials came off to say that they were willing to dismount the guns
of the forts themselves. This would appear to be all that the English
Admiral had originally demanded; but whether he suspected a ruse, or
whether he was determined to take offensive measures at any rate, he
refused to entertain the proposal, saying that the time for negotiation
had expired.

At seven in the morning the first shot was fired from the Alexandra,
and eight English ironclads, of the heaviest description, with five
heavy gun-boats, opened upon the different forts. These were the
heaviest guns and the thickest armor, by far, that had ever been in
action. To mention only one, the Inflexible had four 81-ton guns, and
armor from sixteen to twenty-four inches thick, and measures 11,400
tons.

The Egyptian forts constituted two distinct systems of defence. The
first consisted of those which protected the new port and eastern town;
and the second those which covered the entrances to the outer western
harbor. Seymour divided his fleet so as to simultaneously bombard the
whole. His ironclads and wooden gun-boats were fitted, in addition to
heavy guns, with torpedoes, and Nordenfelt and Gatling machine guns.

The Invincible (flag-ship), Monarch and Penelope, with the Téméraire
outside, took up a position at the entrance of the western harbor,
about opposite Fort Meks, and about twelve hundred yards from another
important work, Fort Marsa-el-Kanat.

They attacked these forts, on the shore of the mainland, while the
Superb, Sultan, and Alexandra attacked and totally destroyed the
lighthouse fort, and another near it on the peninsula. The Inflexible
took up a position between the two divisions, and with her enormous
guns, assisted in the work of both.

The gun-boats attacked the “Marabout” batteries, at the entrance of the
harbor, running close in, and soon silencing them. One of the gun-boats
afterwards covered a landing party, which blew up the heavy guns in
Fort Meks.

The Egyptian artillerists surprised the English by the determination
with which they fought their guns; but they were all silenced by four
o’clock in the afternoon--rather a long time, it would seem, for
vessels carrying guns of such power, if they were properly pointed. By
this time four of the forts had been blown up, and the Khedive’s palace
and harem was in flames. The English fire ceased about half-past five
in the afternoon.

The casualties of the English were five killed and twenty-eight
wounded. This is rather a high number, considering the character of the
vessels employed. The Egyptians seemed to have fired only solid shot,
and these, in some cases, entered the ships, and caused most of the
injuries by splinters.

The Egyptian loss was great, but will probably never be known. It is
said that the gunners in the forts were mostly blacks--Soudanese--who
are as remarkable for their bravery and bull-dog tenacity, as they are
for the very dark color of their skin.

The English are reported to have burst the guns in the ruined forts
with dynamite.

Fort Napoleon, a very strong work, somewhat inland, and dating from
the French occupation, and Fort Gabarrie, had not been thoroughly
bombarded on the first day, and still held out; and arrangements were
made to have the Invincible, Monarch and Penelope go in the next day
to attack them. In the meantime the Invincible had silenced some
outlying batteries, and had sent on shore a party which had burst nine
large guns. During the night the Egyptians had repaired an outside
battery, but when the Inflexible and the Téméraire opened on it, it
did not reply, and was found to be abandoned. On the morning after the
bombardment the Khedive’s palace was still burning, and there were
other fires in the town.

The wind had risen, and a swell was coming in, which prevented accurate
firing, and at one P. M. all fire ceased, on both sides, having not,
of course, been so sustained and continuous as on the preceding day. A
white flag was now shown in the town, and a gun-boat was sent up the
inner harbor to the Arsenal, with a flag of truce flying. The Arsenal
is the official residence of the Ministers of War and Marine, but the
gun-boat found no one there, in authority, and no one, in consequence,
able to tell the meaning of the white flag flying in the city. The
officer sent up, therefore returned to Seymour. Night now drew on, and
the fires in the town were evidently extending.

At daybreak, next morning, the whole of the forts were found to be
abandoned, and the English Admiral telegraphed to the fleet not to
open fire. Half the city appeared to be in flames, with a dense cloud
of smoke hanging over it. The conflagration was, in fact, tremendous,
and involved the whole European quarter and the Grand Square. The
Egyptian army had retreated.

Towards morning a body of about one hundred Europeans fought their way
down to the beach, and were taken off by armed boats from the fleet.
They had spent a terrible night, defending themselves in the building
of the Ottoman Bank, and other buildings adjacent. During the night
hundreds of people were massacred, mostly Christians, and for the two
succeeding days Alexandria was the scene of horrors hardly equalled by
Paris during the Commune.

An uncontrolled soldiery, released convicts and the scum of the
population were let loose, and murder and pillage went on. Petroleum
was used to fire many buildings in the best part of this fine and
flourishing city.

The Khedive was helpless, and really in great danger of his life, in
his palace at Ramleh.

Seymour and his officers and men looked on at “this sad spectacle of
awful and unexpected catastrophe, which they had no power to prevent.”

It is hard to tell whether to blame most the want of statesmanlike
forethought, or the want of military perception in the English naval
Commander, who precipitated this dreadful state of affairs, without
having the means, in the shape of troops, to land and seize the town.

To disinterested observers it was an indefensible act, to bombard a
city with such a mixed population, many of whom were prone to rapine
and murder, without having the power promptly to put things in order.

[Illustration:

{Section of the Alexandra,
{showing working of Guns.

BOMBARDMENT OF ALEXANDRIA, 1882.]

The English Government seems to have thought Admiral Seymour’s
conduct good, for they have just made him a Baron.

The sailors and marines of the fleet were landed as soon as it was
ascertained that Arabi’s forces had retreated. These were joined by
detachments from the German and American men-of-war, for the purpose
of protecting their consulates, in the first place, and then they
assisted in extinguishing fires, seizing marauders, and rescuing many
terror-stricken people from the most imminent danger; patrolling the
streets, and assisting, in every way, to restore order.

As regards the bombardment itself, it may be said that the Egyptian
batteries were served steadily and rapidly; and their aim was good.
The officers appear to have set a good example to their men, appearing
often upon the parapet, to watch the effect of their shot. All the
batteries facing the sea were destroyed by the heavy guns opposed to
them, and their guns dismounted. An explosion of a magazine, in one
fort, is said to have killed all of the garrison. The faces of the
batteries were pulverized, and large holes were made in the masonry
of the lighthouse, and the large stone fort adjoining was reduced to
ruin, and all its guns dismounted. The loss of life in the garrisons
of these forts must have been frightful. The harem palace was damaged
extensively by shell and by fire.

The Arab quarter behind Fort Pharos caught all the shell which missed
the batteries; and here all was chaos and destruction.

Of the English ships, the Penelope was struck five times, and had eight
men wounded, and one gun disabled. The Invincible was struck many
times, and six shots penetrated. She had six wounded, and some spars
shot away. The Monarch, which kept under way, was not hit. The Superb
had her funnel injured, and plates damaged. The Alexandra suffered
slight damage in her hull. The Sultan had her main-mast and funnel shot
through, and her hull pierced several times in the unarmored part. Two
of the 18-ton guns of the Alexandra were disabled by shot, which passed
in at the port-holes.

[Illustration: THE ALEXANDRA. 1877.

(Ironclad, English Navy. Her appearance after being launched.)]

THE WAR BETWEEN CHINA AND JAPAN.

THE OPENING OF JAPAN TO FOREIGN NATIONS.

We may well be proud of the fact that our country was the first to open
the empire of Japan to the free intercourse which, in common with the
rest of the world, we now enjoy with that formerly mysterious country.
In former years the Dutch, Portuguese, English, and others had a
limited intercourse with the Japanese, but were cut off from that, and,
with the exception of the Dutch, entirely expelled from the country two
centuries and a half ago. The Dutch alone, of all Christian nations,
were allowed to remain for the purposes of traffic, “and they purchased
the privilege at the price of national humiliation and personal
imprisonment, for which all the profits of gainful barter offer but an
inadequate compensation.”

This self-isolated empire, Japan, has experienced more radical and
startling changes within the last generation than any people or nation
of which history treats. It seemed as if, once freed from the trammels
which had so long confined it, the empire was determined, at one bound,
to place itself abreast of other nations which had attained a high
civilization and enlightenment by slow and painful steps. With a wealth
of the best models before them, and the intelligence to be able to
throw off their prejudices and avail themselves of those models, the
feat was easier, but still remains wonderful, the more we consider it.

Situated at the eastern extremity of Asia, between 31° and 49° north
latitude, the empire consists of a large group of islands, many of them
small and surrounded by a sea which is not very easy to navigate at all
times.

There are three very large islands--Niphon, or Nippon, seven hundred
miles long, but so narrow that its breadth in the centre is not more
than fifty miles; Kiusiu, about two hundred miles long and fifty miles
wide; and Yesso, formerly sometimes called Xicoco, eighty-five or
ninety miles long and fifty wide.

There are many mountains, some of them volcanic, and the country is
subject to earthquakes, often of a serious character.

The number of inhabitants is given as about forty millions; but it is
said by late observers that, dense as the population appears to be in
certain regions, the country could support many more.

The Japanese appear to be a mixture of the Malay and Mongolian races,
like the Chinese, from whom there seems little doubt they derived their
civilization, ages ago.

The first knowledge of Japan which the Western world had was given
by the Venetian traveller, Marco Polo, at the end of the thirteenth
century. When he returned from a long sojourn in Asia he was hardly
believed when he spoke of a large island off the coast of Cathay, or
China, which he called Zipangu. That island is the modern Nippon.

There is no doubt that Marco Polo’s written story and accompanying
maps had much to do with the determination of Columbus to find the
farthest east by sailing west. Although he was not able to find and
open Japan, he did discover a country which has performed a part of
his contemplated work--a nation which, if it did not discover Zipangu,
was to become the instrument of bringing it into free and full
communication with the rest of the world.

It is to the Portuguese that we owe the first real knowledge of Japan.
When Mendez Pinto, on a voyage to China in 1542, was driven by a storm
to Japan and landed there, the event was considered so important by
the authorities of that isolated country that they not only entered it
in their archives, but preserved portraits of persons who seemed most
strange to them in complexion, features, dress, and language.

The authorities and the visitors were so much pleased with each other
that an arrangement was entered into by which a Portuguese ship was
to be yearly despatched--probably from Macao--laden with articles of
trade. The returns were made in gold, silver, and copper, of which
latter metal there was abundance in Japan.

Then came the establishment of a mission under Francis Xavier,
afterwards canonized by the Catholic Church, and a man of wonderful
ability and with all the requisites for a Christian missionary of his
time. He and his assistants did not meddle with Japanese affairs or
politics, soon made friends, and many converts; but St. Francis Xavier
died in 1552, and his successors were not so wise or so Christian-like
as he had been. They differed among themselves and meddled with matters
which did not concern them. The Franciscans and Dominicans quarrelled
with the Jesuits, but they obtained, among them, a very large number of
converts, among whom were numbered some of the princes or feudal lords.

The Dutch came next in establishing a footing in Japan, about 1598.
One of their first vessels had an English pilot named William Adams,
who has left us a narration of his long residence there--a romantic
story, but which can only be alluded to here. He arose to high
distinction, and, among other things, instructed the Japanese in the
art of ship-building and mathematics.

An English factory was established at Hirado in 1613, but the
enterprise was soon abandoned.

All went well with the Portuguese until about the year 1617, when a
revolution occurred in Japan which placed in power those who were
hostile to both foreign traders and to missionaries. This revolution
had a fatal effect upon the Portuguese influence, especially as they
had, as has been said, showed imprudence in mingling in the politics
of the country, while their ambassador exhibited great pride and
haughtiness, in marked contrast with the Dutch. The latter, attending
strictly to their mercantile transactions and moved by hatred and
jealousy of their rivals, the Portuguese, took good care to give the
assurance that they themselves were of a different creed from the
Jesuits.

When, therefore, in 1637, the Portuguese--traders, missionaries, and
all--were banished from the country, after many persecutions and much
bloodshed, the Dutch were allowed to keep up an intercourse, but under
severe restrictions.

Once rid of the Portuguese, there then began a persecution of the
native Christians, which continued for many years, during which it is
said that several millions suffered for their faith. The number sounds
large, but all accounts agree in regard to it.

Then the Dutch fell under suspicion, for several good reasons, and were
only permitted to remain at all on condition of residing at one spot,
where they could be guarded and every motion observed. In 1641 they
were ordered to remove to Dezima, a small island near Nagasaki, which
Kæmpfer said “was more like a prison than a factory.” But, unwilling
to quit the prospect of profitable trade, they willingly underwent
this imprisonment and agreed to forego any of the outward signs of
Christianity, such as leaving off divine service, etc.

The island Dezima is shaped like a fan, and is very small, only about
six hundred by two hundred and fifty feet, and mostly of artificial
construction. It was connected with the town of Nagasaki by a bridge,
on which there was always a strong guard. The whole island was
surrounded by a high fence with iron spikes. No stone houses were
permitted to be built, and the interpreters, clerks, and servants were
spies, whom the Dutch were obliged to pay. The few ships allowed to
come annually were searched and their arms and powder taken away. “A
more annoying and thorough system of imprisonment and espionage was
never devised.”

Although subject to this oppression and contumely, the Dutch continued
their trade--one or two ships going from Batavia every year--until
Japan was thrown open to the world by means of the action of the
American expedition of 1853. But before speaking of that expedition we
must allude to the idea which has been extensively entertained that
there were formerly, and until quite recently, two Emperors at the
same time in Japan. This erroneous idea was conceived in this way.
About the year 1200, of our era, the then Emperor created a supreme
general, called Shógun. Each Shógun owed allegiance to the Emperor, and
was invested by him, but his position as supreme head of the military
organization, which gave him immense influence with the powerful nobles
or feudal lords, made him almost the equal of the sovereign. Several
years after Japan had been opened to the world and treaties made with
many nations, in 1868, the Shógun’s power was shattered during a war
which might be denominated a revolution. Military domination was swept
away and the Mikado reinstated in his position of supreme authority.
In that year the powerful Tokugawa clan, and others who supported the
Shógun, were overcome by the great clans of Satsuma, Choshin, and Tosa,
and a powerful northern opposition was put down by the Mikado’s forces.

It is a curious fact that the Stonewall Jackson, an ironclad, took
part in this war. She had been built in France for the Confederates,
taken to Havana, and then claimed by our government as a spoil of war.
She was sold by the United States to Japan, and taken out there and
delivered by one of our naval officers.

And now to relate some of the events in Japan in which our country was
most concerned.

In 1831 our first effort at intercourse began. A Japanese junk which
had been blown off their coast had drifted about the Pacific for a long
time, and at length went ashore near the mouth of the Columbia River.
Her crew were kindly treated and sent to China, whence they were sent,
on board an American merchant ship, the Morrison, to Japan. People were
not then aware of a Japanese law which prohibited the return of any
Japanese who had left their country. At any rate, it was an errand of
mercy. When the Morrison entered Jeddo Bay the Japanese, finding she
was unarmed, fired at her with shotted guns, and she was forced to go
to Kagosima. Meeting the same reception there, she returned to Macao
with the shipwrecked Japanese on board.

Complaints having multiplied that American seamen wrecked on the
coast of Japan had been harshly treated by the authorities of that
country--which was very true, for the writer was a shipmate of one who
had been so treated, and often talked with him of his adventures--our
government was anxious to make a treaty which would provide that
such unfortunates should be kindly treated, and also that American
vessels in distress should be able to enter Japanese ports for needed
supplies. So Commodore Biddle, with the Columbus, of 90 guns, and the
sloop-of-war Vincennes, of 20 guns, entered the Bay of Jeddo, in 1846.
The ships were at once surrounded by guard boats--four hundred of them.
The ships remained ten days, but no one belonging to them landed, and
an application for license to trade was met by the answer: “No trade
can be allowed with any foreign nation but Holland.”

The next attempt was in 1849, when the United States sloop-of-war
Preble, Commander Glynn, was sent to inquire as to the detention in
Japan of sixteen American seamen who had been shipwrecked on the coast
of the islands. As the Preble approached Nagasaki harbor she was
surrounded by boats and warned off. But the ship stood in with a fair
breeze, and anchored in spite of them. Troops were hurriedly gathered
and heavy batteries erected on the elevated shores, all bearing upon
the ship. But Commander Glynn persisted, in spite of threats and
subterfuge, demanding the prisoners and saying that the government
meant to protect its citizens and means would be at hand to enforce its
demands. Afterwards he sent word that the men must be delivered to him
in two days’ time; and then the Japanese, finding him in earnest, gave
them up. They had been very cruelly treated. Other attempts than those
we have mentioned were made at different times, without success, by
other nations, the English and the Russians especially.

Commodore Perry’s successful expedition left the United States in
November, 1852, several vessels intending to join it being already in
Chinese ports.

It was well known that our government contemplated such an expedition,
and it had been the subject of much comment in several European
countries more immediately concerned. The general opinion was that
the mission would, like the many others which had been attempted by
various powers, prove fruitless, from the prejudices and obstinacy
of the Japanese. But they did not reckon upon the great tact, skill,
and firmness which were to be displayed in the accomplishment of this
difficult task. The President’s letter was presented on July 14th,
1853, when the squadron left with a promise to return next season for
an answer. On March 31st, 1854, a treaty of peace and amity, providing
especially for the protection of American sailors, was signed.

In June, 1857, a new treaty was made at Simoda, by Townsend Harris,
American Consul-General to Japan, who succeeded in the next year in
reaching Jeddo in spite of opposition, where he negotiated a third
treaty, covering many more points than the first ones.

Other nations soon followed us in making treaties, until Japan was in
full intercourse with the world at large.

It is impossible, here, to give more than a sketch of the many
interesting incidents of Perry’s first visit, but we will endeavor to
give a few points.

On the 7th of July, 1853, the Susquehanna and the Mississippi,
paddle-wheel frigates, with the Plymouth and the Saratoga,
sloops-of-war, entered the Bay of Yedo, the sailing sloops-of-war
being in tow of the steamers, and the crews of the junks which were
overhauled showed every evidence of surprise at the sight of the first
steamships they had ever seen, taking to their oars and sweeps and
hastily getting out of their course. At 5 o’clock in the afternoon
the squadron anchored off the city of Uraga, and from their position
distinctly saw the sacred mountain, Fusiyama, although it was at a
distance of about sixty miles. Previous to anchoring a number of guard
boats were observed coming off, and, contrary to the practice permitted
during the visit of the Columbus, the Commodore determined to exclude
casual visitors, so that they were not permitted even to make fast
their boats to the ships, much less to come on board--a proceeding
which seemed to anger the Japanese officials, but had a good effect in
the end. Soon after an official came to warn the ships off, and he made
signs to have the gangway ladder of the flag-ship lowered for him. But
the interpreter told him that the Commodore was a very high officer of
his government, and that he would receive no one but a functionary of
the highest rank, and was asked why the Governor himself did not come
off. He replied that he was forbidden by law to do so, and asked that
he (the speaker, who was Vice-Governor,) should be received. After some
delay this was done, but he only saw the Commodore’s aide, who told
him that the Commodore’s intentions were perfectly friendly, and that
he brought a letter from the President of the United States addressed
to the Emperor. The Japanese official insisted that the ships must go
to Nagasaki and there deliver the letter, as that was the only place,
under their law, for the transaction of business with foreigners. He
was told that the Commodore would not go to Nagasaki, but expected to
be duly and properly received where he was, near Yedo, and intimated
that force might be used to deliver the message with which he was
charged. He was prepared to meet the Japanese on their own ground and
imitate their own policy. The result was that the squadron was left
free from all annoyance, an event unprecedented in the intercourse of
Japan with foreign ships for two centuries.

There were a good many forts and batteries to be seen on the shore,
however, and every precaution was taken against a sudden attack,
especially as bodies of soldiers could be seen moving about. But the
next day the Governor of the city appeared and came on board. Being an
official of the third rank, however, the Commodore would not personally
meet him. The Governor still insisted upon the ships leaving there
and going to Nagasaki, and was again told that they would deliver the
letter there, as the nearest point to the capital. At a later interview
he was informed that unless an answer was given in three days, and
the business which had brought the squadron there was arranged at the
present visit, the Commodore would be obliged to return with a larger
force, and, as Uraga was an unsafe anchorage, he should go much nearer
to Yedo.

It would take many pages to give all the arguments for delay offered by
the Japanese; but the firmness of Perry, who had not been personally
seen--as too exalted a person--at last gained the day. The Emperor
consented to have a meeting of high officers deputized by him and
Commodore Perry in a house built for the purpose, on shore, where the
letters could be formally exchanged. All the officers of the squadron
who could be spared accompanied the Commodore, in full uniform, and
a large force of marines and sailors, under arms, formed a guard of
honor. The United States flag and the Commodore’s pennant were borne
in front by two stalwart seamen, and two boys, appropriately dressed,
bore, in an envelope of scarlet cloth, the President’s letter and the
Commodore’s credentials.

After long ceremonial conversations, everything was settled pleasantly,
and an answer promised upon the return of the squadron the next spring.

On the 12th of the following February, Perry returned for his answer.
The Japanese were quite friendly, and the squadron, of three steamers
and four sailing men-of-war, anchored about twelve miles beyond the
town of Uraga and about twenty miles from the capital city, Yedo. Even
then the Japanese tried to change the place of meeting, but without
success, for the Americans persisted in having it at that place, which
is now known as Yokohama. Here a fine building was erected as a “Treaty
House,” and, on the 8th of March, 1854, Perry landed in state for the
second time, and on that and the following days conferences were held
and handsome presents interchanged. Among arms, implements, wines, and
other things, was a small locomotive and tender, with a passenger car,
and enough rails to form a track. The Japanese Government sent to the
President a great quantity of things peculiar to the country, and all
ended in a good understanding and the granting of the demands of the
American Government.

Thus, not within the lifetime, but _within the naval lifetime_ of the
writer, has a nation emerged from complete isolation and become so
powerful as to challenge and successfully meet in battle a neighboring
nation, some of the provinces of which contain as many inhabitants as
the whole of Japan.

No matter what may be the result of the war which is now going on, it
is certain that none of the great Western nations which have hitherto
controlled, more or less directly, the course of events in the extreme
East, will in future venture to take political steps without reckoning
Japan as a first-class power. Her resources, military and naval, are
present, while those of the Western nations must be transported halfway
round the world to reach them.

Before war was actually proclaimed the ships of China and Japan had two
or three conflicts on the Korean coast, one of which involved quite
a battle, and the destruction of a small Chinese cruiser which was
protecting the landing of Chinese troops, from transports, on the coast
of Korea. The second was the sinking of the Kow-Shing, which steamer,
in spite of her Chinese name, was an English vessel, and one of the
fastest and best employed in the Chinese coast trade.

When the news of the sinking of the Kow-Shing, which took place on the
25th of July, first appeared, there was great bluster in the English
papers about holding Japan responsible; but, when the true facts came
to light all this talk quickly died away, as it was clearly seen that
the Japanese were within their own right in preventing the landing
of their enemy’s troops in Korea. Of their merciless treatment of
the Chinese when struggling in the water a difference of opinion may
probably be held.

The “Kow-Shing incident” was as follows:--This vessel, of about 1400
tons, had a crew of Chinese, but the captain, the three mates, and
three engineers were Englishmen. She was chartered by the Chinese
government, by the month, for military purposes. Toward the end of July
she took on board twelve hundred Chinese troops, with two generals, and
their body-guards, of about one hundred and fifty men.

War was not formally declared, but two other Chinese troop ships
trying to land men, and under escort of men-of-war, accomplished their
purpose, but an action succeeded between the convoying vessels and
some Japanese cruisers, in which one of the Chinese ships suffered
great loss, and was set on fire. Her commander ran her on shore, where
she shortly blew up.

The Japanese succeeded in intercepting the Kow-Shing, and determined to
force her to return without landing the troops she had on board.

But one of the Chinese cruisers, the Tsi-Yuen, accompanying the two
which had landed troops, observing the Japanese cruiser Naniwa taking
note of the operation, is said to have approached the Naniwa with the
Japanese flag flying and suddenly opened fire upon her, as evidence of
which an officer of the Kow-Shing was shown a shell, which happily did
not explode, in the ward-room of the Naniwa. “What happened afterwards
was probably done, at least in part, as retaliation for this act of
fighting under false colors.”

On July 25th at 8 o’clock in the morning, the Kow-Shing, with the
Chinese troops on board, sighted the Naniwa, which signalled her
to stop and then to anchor; she did so, and then signalled “Can we
proceed?” As an answer to this the Japanese cruiser sent a boat,
with an armed crew and two officers, who proceeded to the captain’s
cabin, where they examined the ship’s papers. They were told that the
Kow-Shing was a British steamer, with the British Consul’s clearance,
flying the British flag, and that war had not been declared when she
left port.

Major Von Hanneken, the German officer in Chinese employ, told the
Chinese generals what had passed, and the latter said they had rather
die where they were, and said that if the British officers attempted
to leave the Kow-Shing they would be killed by their body-guard. The
English captain tried his hardest to show them how useless it was
to resist the Naniwa, but without success. By this time the boat had
returned to the Naniwa, and the latter signalled, “weigh, cut or slip,
wait for nothing” meaning that the English captain was to carry his
ship back to the place whence she had come, and not attempt to land the
generals and their troops in Korea. If they had obeyed the order there
would have been no loss of property or life. But the Chinese would not
allow the captain to move, and threatened death again if he did so. The
Naniwa then steamed abeam of the Kow-Shing, on the port side, about 500
yards off. Then she blew her whistle, ran a red flag up to her foremast
head, and discharged a torpedo, which however fell short. Immediately
afterward, seeing that the torpedo had missed, the Naniwa fired a
broadside which hulled the Kow-Shing, which keeled over to starboard
and immediately began to sink.

The English officers at once jumped overboard, and began to swim for
the land, through swarms of Chinamen, dead or drowning. Bullets were
striking on every side. They came from the Chinese soldiers who were
herded on the only part of the Kow-Shing left above water. Then the
Englishmen swam toward the Naniwa, and after being a long time in the
water were picked up by her boats. By this time only the Kow-Shing’s
masts were visible, and two of her boats, while crowds of Chinese in
the water were swimming about. The officer of the Japanese cutter which
had picked up the Englishmen said he was ordered to sink the boats. He
did fire at them and then returned to the Naniwa without picking up any
of the Chinese. The next day the Naniwa joined the rest of the Japanese
fleet, and the Englishmen were sent by despatch boat to Japan, where
they were set at liberty a few days afterwards.

The Chinese and Japanese have for ages been in communication,
mercantile and otherwise, but there has always, so far as history goes,
been an underlying hostility in the feelings of the two nations. These
feelings have been aggravated by collisions at various periods in
regard to sovereignty, and the commercial intercourse with the Loo-choo
Islands, as well as in regard to Formosa, a very large and immensely
valuable possession for the nation which may be fortunate enough to
hold it. At present the greater part of the island is in the possession
of native clans, and the Chinese control the country for only a short
distance inland, upon the southwestern portion mostly.

Then again, China and Japan have been at difference for a long time in
regard to the Korean territory, over which China has always claimed a
jurisdiction, which however she has not practically exercised, except
by intriguing in the state affairs of the country and demanding acts
of vassalage. When Japan, whose interests in her neighbors are very
important, protested against Chinese intrigue and influence, she was
received with ill-disguised contempt. Upon war being declared by Japan,
the Emperor of China and his advisers, not recognizing the forward
state of preparation of the Japanese, is said to have ordered his
military and naval commanders to “exterminate the Japanese vermin.” How
far the effort at “extermination” went, the whole world now knows.

Japan solemnly declared, in a diplomatic note, that her whole object
in the war was to settle and secure once for all the separation and
independence of Korea. Of course, if successful, she would demand
compensation for the immense outlay incurred in her campaigns by land
and sea; and, while not approaching the sum paid by France to Germany
at the close of the Franco-German war, it will be very large indeed,
and one which will hamper the Chinese government for a generation to
come, as their fiscal methods do not readily lend themselves to such an
emergency.

THE NAVAL BATTLE OF THE YALU, SEPT. 17, 1894.

Since the advent of modern battle-ships of the new type, armed with
high-powered rifled ordnance, naval officers of all nations had been
eagerly looking for an occasion when the use of such ships and guns
would be an object lesson to them, and various theories in regard to
naval warfare would be put to the test of actual practice. While most
people were looking to movements in other and widely distant parts
of the world--some predicting a naval battle in the North Sea, while
others looked for a battle of giants in the Mediterranean--the problem
was in part solved for them by a pitched battle in the far Orient,
between the Japanese and Chinese fleets, and which will be known in
history as the battle of the Yalu.

The rival fleets may be said to have illustrated each a different
principle. That represented by the Chinese was the principle of the
school which puts material above _personnel_, for their fleet contained
the heaviest ships and the largest guns, although these were not so
numerous as those of the Japanese. They had also the most extensive
torpedo equipment.

The Japanese represented the school which believes in lighter, more
active ships, and in “the man behind the gun”--that is, the greater
rapidity and accuracy of fire and ability in manœuvring--much the same
as Farragut’s conviction that the best protection for a ship was a
rapid and accurate fire from her battery.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE YALU--SINKING OF THE CHIH-YUEN.]

Before proceeding to describe the battle it would be well to give
some account of the strength of the contending fleets. By this we mean
the available naval strength of each nation at the outbreak of the
conflict.

The Chinese navy owes its existence principally to the fostering care
of the Imperial Viceroy, Li Hung-Chang, now in disgrace. He employed
Captain Lang, an Englishman, and other Europeans to drill the ships’
companies. But Captain Lang was forced to leave that service some
time before the war began, and Captain Von Henneken, a German, who
constructed the forts at and near the naval port of Wei-hai-wei,
appears to have taken his place as adviser to Admiral Ting--as much
as a military man can advise upon naval matters. The Chinese had
five heavy ironclads--Ting-Yuen, Chen-Yuen, King-Yuen, Lai-Yuen, and
Ping-Yuen--with armor from fourteen to eight inches thick, and armed
with Krupp guns, from twelve-inch to eight-inch calibre, mounted in
barbette. They had also some quick-fire and a number of machine guns.
All of these vessels, except the Ping-Yuen, were built at Stettin, in
Germany.

The Chinese protected and partly protected cruisers were nine in
number, with armaments of Armstrong and other guns, and a number of
quick-fire guns in two of them, the Tschi-Yuen and Ching-Yuen. Most of
them were built in Germany and in England, but three of the smaller
ones were constructed in the Chinese building yard at Foo-choo. Some of
the vessels named were quite fast, but as the speed of a fleet is that
of its slowest ship, we must put it down at ten or eleven knots--the
speed of the ironclad Ping-Yuen.

The torpedo flotilla included twenty-eight boats of over one hundred
feet in length and thirteen over eighty, all built in Stettin.

As regards the Japanese fleet, of the armor-clads (Riujo, Fuso, Kongo,
Hi-Yei, and Tschiyoda), all are stated to be practically obsolete
but the last, and she was much damaged in the battle by the Chinese
Tschi-Yuen. They were all built in England at different dates, from
1864 to 1879. The Tschiyoda, armored cruiser, is a modern ship of about
2500 tons, built in Glasgow. She has a four-and-a-half-inch belt,
one-inch deck plating, and mounts 24 quick-fire guns. Her best speed is
about nineteen knots.

The modern protected cruisers which took part in the battle on the
Japanese side were the Naniwa, Takachiko, Itsukushima, Hashidate,
Matsushima, Akitsushima, and Yoshino. The lowest speed of any of
these ships was seventeen and a half knots, and they were armed with
Armstrong, Canet, and Krupp heavy guns and a very large number of
quick-fire 4.7-inch, and smaller guns.

The Akitsushima and Hashidate were built in Japan; the Itsukushima
and Matsushima at La Seyne, in France. The Naniwa and Takachiko
were English built, as was also the new Yoshino, with a speed of
twenty-three knots, 4150 tons, and one of the finest cruisers afloat in
any navy.

The Japanese torpedo flotilla consists of 41 boats more than 100 feet
in length; but, as we shall have occasion to see later on, torpedoes
were of not much importance in the Yalu battle, owing to the manner in
which it was fought, and few of those were present.

The principal dock-yard and naval arsenal of Japan is at Yokosuka; and
the whole country is divided into two naval districts or departments,
each subject to a vice-minister under the naval minister at Tokio,
the capital. The discipline and regulations of the Japanese fleet are
modelled upon those of Europe and America much more closely than that
of China, and the ships are manned by efficient and well-trained
crews, who have excellent and well-instructed officers. So many of the
population are engaged in maritime pursuits--either in the fishery
or in coasting and carrying on the active communication between the
islands composing the empire--that there is a large reserve of hardy,
seasoned men to draw upon for service in the navy.

Many of the officers have been educated abroad, some of them being
graduates of our own Naval Academy at Annapolis, where, as a rule, they
have always stood well in their classes in spite of the difficulty of
carrying on their studies in a foreign language. These naval cadets
were received at the request of the Japanese government and wore the
uniform and were treated in precisely the same way as our own cadet
midshipmen, but the Japanese government paid all their expenses.

Thus, though apparently weaker than the Chinese fleet, except in the
matter of swift cruisers, the Japanese navy had qualities which gave
it the real, practical advantage in the battle of the Yalu. More than
ever has it confirmed the theory that speed is the greatest requisite
in the sea-fighting of the present day; for it was the swiftness of the
Japanese vessels which gained them the advantage in the first place,
seconded by rapid and accurate gun-fire.

We shall see that torpedoes had not much opportunity for action, and
when used by the Chinese (rather clumsily), failed in taking effect,
while there was no use of the ram at all--a manner of offence which
many looked to see exemplified in the first great naval battle.

The great sea-fight at the Yalu will not be completely elucidated for
some time to come--probably many months--but we know enough about it to
be able to give its leading features, mostly from the report made to
the Japanese Emperor by an aide of Admiral Ito, who commanded the fleet
of Japanese vessels.

This fleet had been for several days in the estuary of Ping-Yang, in
the Bay of Korea, co-operating with the land forces upon the river
Ta-Tong. On the morning of September 16th the Admiral was advised
that Ping-Yang had been captured, and he at once got under way,
proceeding to the northward with eleven ships, the names of which have
already been given, and the Saikio, a light-armed vessel having on
board Admiral Kabiyama, who was senior to Ito, but who did not assume
command, as he was only upon a tour of inspection and his vessel was
not intended for fighting. The ships were in two divisions.

On the 17th, in the bay of Takuchao, on the coast of Manchouria, they
discovered the Chinese fleet, of fourteen ships and four torpedo-boats.
It was then about mid-day. As the opposing forces rapidly approached
each other it was seen that the Chinese were coming out of the bay
in a formation not unlike a closed crescent or wide V; the Japanese
fleet being in line abreast, with the Admiral in the centre in the
Matsushima. The little Saikio also took place in line, in spite of her
feeble armament.

When about 4000 metres distant the Chinese Admiral and some other of
his vessels opened fire, but the Japanese waited until the distance
had decreased to 3000 metres before making any reply. Even then they
fired but a few shots, after which Admiral Ito, seeing that the Chinese
retained their peculiar and very disadvantageous formation, signalled
to the van squadron to attack the enemy on the right and the rear
squadron to attack the left. At the same time he ordered the Akagi and
the Saikio to get on the port or outer side of the rear squadron, for
safety. The presence of the two large and heavily plated German-built
battle-ships in the Chinese fleet convinced Admiral Ito that he would
have to fight the battle under full steam, and, by attacking the
Chinese on their flanks, break their formation and throw them into
confusion. Seeing that he was exposing first one wing and then the
other of his fleet to a concentrated fire which he could only partially
return, Admiral Ting now tried to get his vessels into line, and a
tremendous cannonade ensued, at a distance varying from a mile to a
mile and a half. The ocean fairly shook as the ships swept on, rapidly
firing pieces of heavy modern ordnance. The Chinese vessels presented a
strange appearance, for not a moving man could be seen upon their upper
decks, nor were there any boats at their davits or on their decks. It
was said that they had purposely left their boats behind to prevent
their crews from deserting.

At first the Chinese fire was fairly accurate; but that of the
Japanese, coolly handled, and with the newest pattern of guns, had
a terrible precision. The wheeling movement of the Japanese on the
right and left flanks, and the terrific effect of their rapid-fire
guns, seemed to throw the line of their enemies into disorder and to
demoralize their gunners.

During this tremendous and incessant fire one of the Chinese vessels,
the Lai-Yuen, an armored cruiser, was badly injured, and the Japanese
particularly concentrated their fire upon her as well as others of
the Chinese fleet which seemed to be damaged. The Lai-Yuen then began
to get low in the water, but her gunners continued to fire almost to
the last, when she sank, stern foremost. As her stern went under, her
bows rose out of the water, and she is said to have remained in this
position for about a minute and a half before she finally disappeared.
This fine vessel was sunk by shot, as not a torpedo had been
discharged. Then came the turn of the Tschi-Yuen, which showed signs of
being in trouble, and with a concentrated fire directed upon her she
soon sank, with every soul on board.

While the rear of the Japanese main squadron was turning the left of
the Chinese the Hi-Yei came so close to the latter that, to avoid
receiving their fire broadside on, she left the main squadron and
steamed straight for the Chinese line, passing between the two large
ironclads, the Ting-Yuen and Lai-Yuen. Both these great floating forts
fired at her as she passed, and also launched two torpedoes, both of
which missed, and on went the Hi-Yei, cheering and firing from both
batteries. She had a great number of killed and wounded, but had
passed more than half-way through, without serious damage to hull or
machinery, when a shell from one of the battle-ships hit her aft, about
three feet above the water line, and shattered her mizzenmast and
killed her paymaster, both her surgeons, all the medical attendants,
the men at the spare steering-gear, and many of the powder division.
These were all in the ward-room, which was the surgeon’s quarters
in action. Besides this damage the shell set her on fire, and her
commander, named Sakurai, was obliged to run out of the line of fire
until he could subdue the flames.

The Saikio, which was only a steamer of commerce turned into an armed
vessel, had a somewhat similar experience with the two great Chinese
ironclads. A shell from the Ting-Yuen struck her and destroyed her
steering apparatus, so that she had to withdraw from the line of
battle, steering as well as she could by means of her screw propellers.
It was evident that the Chinese thought she was trying to ram, for the
two steered apart and made an opening through which the Saikio passed,
escaping the torpedoes launched by the Chinese. During these exciting
moments the fire slackened a little on both sides, but was renewed, as
soon as the little vessel was safely out of the way, with greater force
than ever.

By this time the Chinese cruiser Tchao-Yung had become disabled in her
machinery, and was forced onto a reef of rock; but she continued to
use her guns vigorously against two of the Japanese fleet which had
closed with her, the effect of whose fire was such that she soon went
down by the head and slipped off to sink in deep water, leaving about
two-thirds of her masts above the surface. All of her crew who could do
so took refuge in the rigging and raised pitiable yells of distress.
But the fighting was still going on so desperately that no assistance
could be rendered to these unfortunate people. Then another Chinese
ship came to grief, the Yang-Wai, which retired slowly from the battle,
evidently hard hit and rolling heavily, while dense masses of smoke
came up from her.

Seeing that she was _hors de combat_, the Japanese did not pursue her.
Indeed, the fight was too close to permit them to detach any of their
ships. Although they had not suffered so much as the Chinese their
damages were very considerable. A shell had struck the Matsushima which
had dismounted her forward rapid-fire gun and killed and wounded a
number of her crew. The gun was thrown across her deck with such force
as to damage the hull of the vessel very considerably. Indeed, as
flag-ship, the Matsushima had been the object of particular attention
from the Chinese ever since the battle began. She had her commander and
her first lieutenant killed and one hundred and twenty of her ship’s
company killed and wounded. Yet, in spite of the treatment she had
received, she seemed in no danger of sinking.

But Admiral Ito needed a flag-ship in better fighting condition than
that to which the Matsushima was reduced, and so he had a boat lowered,
and accompanied by his staff passed to the Hashidate and hoisted his
flag there. The Japanese cruiser Yoshino bore a very conspicuous part
in the engagement; and when her captain perceived that the Hi-Yei
was disabled, he manœuvred his ship in such a way as to cover her
withdrawal, and then taking her place, attacked her enemy with the
greatest vigor. She was struck many times and her forward barbette and
gun were seriously damaged, but the damages were promptly repaired, and
she was not forced out of action.

During the battle the Chinese tried to use torpedoes several times,
but the Japanese kept a good lookout for them, and not one made a hit.
The captain of the gun-vessel, Akagi, stationed himself in the foretop
and followed all the movements of the Chinese, so that whenever they
prepared to launch a torpedo he signalled the fact. But at last a shot
struck the mast, cut it in two, and, as it fell to the deck, it killed
the captain and the two signal-men who were aloft with him. The first
lieutenant assumed command, cleared the wreck, and continued the fight
until night put an end to it.

As the evening drew near a dense smoke arose from the ironclad
Ting-Yuen and from two of the Chinese cruisers, and they were supposed
by the Japanese to be on fire, especially as their batteries had very
much slackened and only fired intermittently. But they still held their
ground, and it was not until sundown that they were seen to be in full
retreat.

The Japanese fleet hauled off seaward, expecting to renew the action
in the morning and fearing to follow too closely, perhaps on account
of torpedoes, while their speed was necessarily slow, as it had to be
regulated by that of their own damaged vessels.

When day dawned not a sign of the Chinese fleet was to be seen. They
had made the best of their way to the secure refuge of the naval
arsenals and docks at Port Arthur and Wei-hai-wei. Admiral Ito then
steamed toward Talu Island, where, aground and abandoned by her
officers and crew, they discovered the Yang-Wei. She was at once
destroyed by a torpedo, which, it is interesting to remark, was the
only one used on the Japanese side during the whole of the operation.

The Japanese fleet then repaired to the rendezvous off the mouth of
the Ta-Tong River, from whence the Akagi, Matsushima, Hi-Yei, and
Saikio were sent home for repairs, Admiral Ito’s flag being on board
the Hashidate, where it had been transferred while the action was in
progress.

On September 23d the Japanese fleet, reconnoitring the neighborhood
of Port Arthur, discovered the Chinese cruiser Kuang-Ki on shore in
Talien-Wan Bay, and, as the Japanese drew near, they saw the Chinese
abandon and blow her to pieces.

This was the fifth war-ship lost by the Chinese since the beginning of
the battle of the Yalu. Though some were much damaged, not a Japanese
vessel was lost. Twelve Japanese officers and 98 men were killed, and
13 officers and 170 men were wounded. The Chinese loss, including
those who were drowned, was estimated at 2000; but the exact number
will probably never be known. From the accounts of eye-witnesses the
sea was full of drowning Chinamen at the time the three vessels were
sunk during the battle, and few could have been saved, as the severest
fighting was going on and the Chinese vessels, as we have said above,
had no boats.

The condition of the Chinese fleet, when it had with difficulty reached
Port Arthur under cover of night, was most deplorable. The ironclad
Ting-Yuen had more than 200 holes in her made by projectiles, but her
armored belt was not seriously damaged, the heaviest dents not being
much more than a few inches deep. Her sister ship, the Chen-Yuen,
was less frequently struck; but the damage she sustained was more
important. She almost sunk before she could be secured at her safe
anchorage, being several feet by the head. According to the Chinese
accounts, it was the rapid-fire guns of comparatively small calibre
which inflicted such serious injury.

The captain of one of our American war-ships on the Asiatic station, in
describing a visit to the Japanese field-hospital, near Nagasaki, says:
“There I got a fair conception of the killing and wounding qualities
of the small-bore rifle that all Europe is adopting. The Japanese
infantry arm is the Murata, the invention of General Murata, now Chief
of Ordnance of Japan. The calibre of the gun is .315, and the bullet
weighs 235 grains. I saw a Chinese officer who had been struck in the
knee-joint by one of these bullets, fired at a distance of about 1000
yards. The thin steel envelope of the bullet had broken, and the joint
was simply a mass of finely comminuted bone splinters. The knee was
perfectly soft, without a bone in it unbroken an inch long. Of course,
the leg had to be amputated.

“The hospital was the admiration of the French and English surgeons as
well as our own. The medical staff were all Japanese who had graduated
in medicine and surgery either in America or England, then taken a
post-graduate surgical course in clinics at the Paris and Berlin
hospitals. They had the best modern instruments and systems, the newest
antiseptics--everything a hospital on modern lines should have. And all
this is the work of a generation. Truly, the Japanese is a wonderful
man.

“I saw something, too, of the effect of the modern shell fire
on the cruiser of the period at the battle of the Yalu River’s
mouth. The Akagi was hit several times by eight-inch shells of the
Vavasour-Palliser pattern. One of these, fired from the Chinese cruiser
Chin-Yuen, tore off nearly one-half the iron and steel port-quarter
of the Akagi, killed Captain Sakamato, her commander, and killed
and wounded a dozen more officers and men. A second shell, from a
200-pounder, made a hole eight feet in diameter in the side of the
Akitsu. Had the service of the Chinese great guns been equal to that of
the Japanese, the Akagi, the Hashidate, and Matsushima must have been
sunk. The Japanese fire was terribly accurate and deadly. The Chinese
ship Chen-Yuen was hit nearly one hundred times. Nothing was left above
water of her; of her crew, 460 strong, over 350 were killed or died of
wounds. All this was from the fire of six-inch and eight-inch rifles,
at a distance from 1000 to 1600 yards. The Chinese had the heavier
ships at Yalu, but the Japanese out-manœuvred them and out-fought them.
Man for man, and ship for ship, my professional opinion is that the
Japanese commanders are equal to any in Europe. They have courage, a
high professional knowledge, and a fierce fighting spirit that nothing
daunts.”

The paper from which this report is taken adds that the American
commanders attribute much of Japan’s success to the fact that so many
of her naval officers were educated at the Naval Academy at Annapolis.

The following description of the condition of things on the decks
of Admiral Ting’s flag-ship Chen-Yuen, after her fight with the two
Japanese cruisers Naniwa and Yoshino, was sent to an English paper by
an officer of the British squadron at Chefoo: “The slaughter has been
awful, blood and human remains being scattered over the decks and guns.
Three of the five men working the four-ton gun in the after-turret
were blown to pieces by a six-inch shell from one of the Naniwa’s
quick-firing guns, and a fourth was shot down while attempting to
leave the turret. The remaining gunner stuck to his post and managed
to load and fire three rounds at the Naniwa, and, one shell entering
her engine room and another blowing her forebridge away, she hauled
off. The Chinese Admiral awarded the plucky gunner 1000 taels. One
shell struck the Chen-Yuen’s steel deck and, glancing off, passed up
through the conning-tower and exploded, blowing the gunnery lieutenant
to pieces and leaving his head hanging on one of the voice-pipes. Huge
fragments of armor and backing had been torn from their fastenings and
carried inboard, crushing a number of poor wretches into shapeless
masses, even the upper part of the funnels being splashed with blood.
An engineer officer (European) was sent for to repair the steam-pipe
of the steering-engine, and tried to grope his way through the
smoke of bursting shells and heaps of killed and wounded lying on
the deck, when a shot struck his assistant and disembowelled him,
covering the engineer with blood. He nevertheless managed to reach the
steering-engine and repaired the pipe, for which he received a rather
handsome reward from the Admiral. This engagement lasted about one and
a quarter hours, when the Japanese hauled off and the Chen-Yuen made
the best of her way to Wei-hai-wei, their naval station, where she
arrived the next day in just the same condition as she had left the
scene of action, no attempt having been made to wash away the blood or
remove the dead bodies.”

A French writer, in speaking of the battle, says: “As was to be
expected, recriminations were rife among the officers of the defeated
fleet. Each one tried to throw the responsibility upon his neighbor,
while the captains were the objects of all sorts of reproaches, some
of them being charged with downright cowardice. But, if his subaltern
officers failed in their duty, Admiral Ting cannot avoid the greater
part of the responsibility for the defeat. During the years that he
has commanded the fleet in the Gulf of Pe-chi-li he has not known
how to make it a naval force worthy of the name. The fire of his
ships was more than mediocre, and the Japanese, in that respect, had
a vast advantage over the Chinese gunners. On the other hand, this
general officer has proved himself absolutely ignorant of the general
principles of naval tactics. He hastily got under way and took a
formation in the shape of a closed crescent, something like a V,
which no sailor before him ever dreamed of doing; his ships mutually
paralyzed each other, and at a glance Admiral Ito took in the situation
and overwhelmed the branches of the V, one after the other.

“Admiral Ting would only have been excusable if he had not had time to
form line of battle; but in this case he must be reproached for not
having lookout vessels far enough away, as he must have known that
the conditions were favorable for Japanese vessels to make raids in
the Gulf of Pe-chi-li and the Bay of Korea. He appears to have known
nothing of the movements of his enemy, and if he took any interest
in them it was purely a speculative one. Personally, Admiral Ting
conducted himself with bravery; but personal courage is not the only
requisite in those on whom is conferred the fearful responsibility of
chief command.”

To sum up the result, the battle of the Yalu was won by guns, on fast
ships-by guns alone, just as in former naval engagements; for neither
torpedoes nor rams played any part. If the Japanese torpedo-boats had
been present, it is quite likely that the destruction would have been
greater. The Japanese guns were a little more modern than those of the
Chinese.

The Japanese had among their artillery some large Canet guns and
Armstrong rapid-fire guns of moderate calibre. The Chinese had Krupp
and Armstrong guns of more ancient model, and it would appear that the
only rapid-fire guns they possessed were of very small calibre--such as
are intended for defence against torpedo-boats, of which the Japanese
had none in the battle.

The Chinese fleet showed great want of concerted movement, and as a
consequence a defective formation--a lack in the commanding officers
of ability in manœuvring--and the crews were insufficiently drilled.
When the Matsushima received such injuries that Admiral Ito was obliged
to shift his flag to the Hashidate, there must have been a period of
hesitation and delay among the Japanese ships, but Admiral Ting does
not appear to have taken advantage of it. He either did not see it or
he did not know how to profit by it.

The Japanese, on the other hand, showed admirable decision, and took
the offensive with a precise and definite knowledge of what they wished
to accomplish, while their Admiral, by a manœuvre worthy of all praise,
concentrated the whole of his force upon each wing of his enemy’s fleet
in succession. Their crews were well drilled and instructed and full
of patriotic ardor, all having the same end in view--to win the battle
at all costs. This is always the case when battles are won, either at
sea or on land. Victory is the reward of worthy effort and methodical
preparation. The Japanese have appreciated and adopted European
methods, have assimilated Western ideas, and put them in practice with
an ability which is the more astonishing when we consider that thirty
years ago they were armed with the weapons of feudal days.

It was reserved for the last comer into the family of nations--the last
to assume fellowship--to give lessons to the rest in the art of naval
warfare.

No doubt, if two first-class European or American fleets had cannonaded
each other for five long hours, as the Japanese and Chinese did at
the Yalu, there would have been even more terrible destruction; but
the deduction is nevertheless to be made, from the late battle, that
the victory was won by the side which knew best how to prepare for
it. The lesson it teaches to all nations is the necessity of careful
preparation and sedulous training. Modern men-of-war take a long time
to build and modern arms a long time to construct, while the training
of an efficient ship’s company takes almost equally long, even when
good and conscientious officers devote to it their best abilities.

After the date of the battle of the Yalu, events of great import and
influence upon the course of the war followed each other with great
rapidity, and the telegraph conveyed to the Western world reports of
marches, battles and sieges, in which, however, the Japanese navy bore
only a secondary but still very important part.

The Chinese, weakened in vessels and depressed in spirit by their
losses at the Yalu, did not attempt any further naval operations.

In the latter part of November one of the Japanese armies captured
Port Arthur, with its fortifications, which were almost impregnable if
well defended. The fruit of this capture was the fine docks, plenty of
naval stores, and repairing tools and material, ammunition, guns, and
several vessels undergoing repairs in consequence of injuries received
in battle. This important operation was effected by the land forces of
Japan, assisted by the navy, which occupied the attention of some of
the seaward Chinese forts, and also prevented the escape of several
vessels and of a portion of the garrison.

The Japanese proceeded at once to remove the torpedoes and submarine
mines planted to protect the entrance of the harbor, and at once
became busily engaged, without the loss of a day, in reorganizing the
construction and repairs shops, and in availing themselves of the
facilities offered by the fine dry docks--built at so much cost by
their enemy.

Transports, with provisions and the latest reserves, soon began to
arrive at this most advantageous naval base, particularly so for
the Japanese fleet, which patrolled the Gulf of Pe-chi-li, both to
prevent interference with their transport service and to keep open
communication with the army of Field Marshal Yamagata as it approached
Moukden, the ancient city of the North, the place of sepulture of the
ruling dynasty of China and the site of their principal treasury. It is
held in much greater reverence than Pekin, the political capital, which
has twice been occupied by foreign armies--those of the French and of
the English.

At one time during the early part of the war there was a disposition
shown by England to interfere in the struggle and to endeavor to put an
end to a state of things which seriously interfered with her commerce
and promised to affect it still more seriously in the future. But
the remarkable ability and power shown by Japan, and the failure to
persuade other nations to join in an armed intervention before the
Chinese were forced to sue for peace at any price, put an end to the
plan.

In the meantime the northern provinces of China fell almost into a
state of anarchy. The troops and their generals could not be depended
upon to successfully defend any position, no matter how strong, while
banditti, composed of stragglers, deserters and the scum of the
population, ravaged the country, and operated with almost complete
impunity in the very environs of Pekin.

A foreigner who had been employed in the Chinese customs service was
despatched to Japan to endeavor to negotiate some sort of armistice,
with a view to peace negotiations; but the Japanese Minister of Foreign
Affairs refused to have any communication of so irregular a character,
and the official was sent off with scant courtesy.

After this came the intervention, as negotiators, of the American
Ministers at Pekin and Tokio--both officials of great length of service
and experience in their positions--with proposals for a peace founded
upon the granting to Japan of a large money indemnity, as well as a
territorial concession which would add largely to the extent of that
empire.

But, after some tentative proceedings, this well-intended intervention
failed, as the Japanese seemed determined that the Chinese Emperor
should sue directly for peace, which their success in the conduct of
the war entitled them to demand.

The Emperor of Japan is a tremendously hard-worked ruler, and a
good business man. He watches closely the Japanese, as well as the
foreign press, and passes over, as a rule, ordinary misstatements or
criticisms; but if a newspaper becomes at all dangerous he gives an
order to his censors, and the newspaper is stopped, while the editors
are liable to imprisonment. As he has the appointment of a large number
of members of parliament, and the constitution is so adroitly worded
that he is still the almost absolute ruler of Japan, there was probably
not much delay in the voting of war measures and supplies.

The Crown Prince, who is not the son of the Empress, but of one of
the secondary wives, was sixteen years old in September, 1894, and is
said to be a bright lad, of dark complexion, like his father, with
almond eyes and face of the most pronounced Japanese type. He is of an
erect figure and fond of military pursuits. He has been educated in
the Nobles’ school, and has studied French and English. The Emperor
is taller than most of his subjects, very dark, with a long face and
heavy features. Except in complexion the son is not very much like his
father, his face being rounder and shorter. There have been one hundred
and twenty-one Emperors of Japan, all of the same family. The first
one governed the country just about twenty-five hundred years ago. “He
was on the throne long before Julius Cæsar aspired to be Emperor of
Rome, and three hundred years before Alexander the Great thought he
had conquered the world. The Japanese have the history of all of their
Emperors from that time down to this, and they will assure you that
the Mikado is a lineal descendant of the first Emperor, whose name was
Jimmu Tenno.

“Any other royal family would have run out in less than this time,
especially in an isolated country like Japan but the Japanese have a
law by which the Emperor cannot marry one of his own family. He has to
marry the daughter of one of the court nobles, and the Empress is,
therefore, not of royal blood.”

It is interesting to us, as Americans, to recall the fact that, while
China and Japan were thus grappling in the throes of war, important
diplomatic work, of a peaceful character, was going on between
ourselves and each of the contending powers. The treaty signed with
China arranged many important points which had been long at issue
between us and them; but the most important action was the Convention
between the United States and Japan, signed about the 1st of December,
1894, at Washington, by Secretary of State Gresham and Minister Kurino,
as Plenipotentiaries on behalf of their respective governments.

This Convention supplants the Treaty of 1858, already alluded to, in
which Japan was dealt with as a barbarous nation, and that of 1866, by
which the United States, Great Britain, France, and the Netherlands
established Japan’s customs tariff for her. The United States, alone
of all nations, has, of late years, insisted upon Japan’s complete
autonomy in foreign as well as domestic affairs; in taxes and tariff
duties, as well as in judicial jurisdiction--none of which she had
enjoyed under the old treaties.

[Illustration: DECK OF U. S. S. INDIANA.

In the foreground are two of her 13-inch breech loading rifles, and two
of her 8-inch guns are shown on the right. It costs to fire one of the
former, with tooled steel projectile, $700. The Indiana is capable of
giving combat to any vessel afloat.]

Naval Battles of America

PREFACE.

At one time in the history of the United States, when the population
was comparatively small, and most of it concentrated in what are now
termed the Eastern States, almost every one was familiar with the
exploits of our naval officers and seamen during the Revolutionary
War, the War of 1812-15, the Mexican and the Florida Wars--beside
the encounters with pirates in many parts of the world. Since these
memorable encounters the way of the population has largely gone
westward, so that the East, where maritime affairs are necessarily
better understood, has been left much in the minority. When a war
occurs--which must be largely naval--the people of the centre and West
are naturally inquiring--“Why do we not have more ships?” The answer
is, that Congress (their own representatives among them) has not seen
fit to increase the navy in proportion to our increase of population
and the increase of our responsibilities.

Many representatives do not at all realize that it takes years to build
a modern battleship, and that the men to man them are not to be picked
up on the wharves of any seaboard city, but must be put through a long
training to be efficient.

Recent events, however, will prevent any serious opposition to naval
increase for years to come. The lesson has been too striking an one.

Yet Congress has not been illiberal--according to its lights. Since
1883 it has authorized the construction of seventy-seven vessels, of
all rates, sixteen of which are not yet completed. The cost of these
was more than $134,000,000, yet that has only about been spent in a
month of war preparation, which might possibly have been saved if we
had had ready a naval and military force which would have rendered
impossible any armed opposition to our demands.

Fifteen years ago there was not a modern gun afloat in the United
States Navy, and we had no facilities for the manufacture of heavy
armor. Now our establishments for gun-making, armor-forging, and ship
and engine building compare favorably with any in the world.

It is well that it is so, for this is an age of progress, and the art
of war progresses with as much rapidity as peaceful arts.

Other nations take full advantage of these improvements, and so must
we. A great and rich nation, as ours is, cannot afford to do otherwise.

We must, in future, be armed at all points, and especially in the naval
points.

Contents

PAGE

SERAPIS AND BONHOMME RICHARD. A. D. 1779.

Remarkable Action; Sketch of the Hero, John Paul Jones; Receives
a Commission in the United Colonial Navy; Hoists the First
American Flag on Sea; The French Salute the “Stars and Stripes;”
France Gives Him a Large Merchantman, which he Names the Bonhomme
Richard; Sketch of Jones’ Later Life; Lafayette; Franklin;
Additional Ships Fitted out for Jones in France; Description of
the Bonhomme Richard; Sailing of the Fleet; Richard Dale; Cruises
on the Coast of Scotland; Discovery of the Serapis Convoying
About Forty Merchantmen; Description of Her; The Serapis Stands
Out to Protect Her Convoy; The Two Vessels Engage as Night Comes
On; Two of Jones’ 18 pounders Burst at the First Discharge;
Captain Pearson, of the Serapis, Inquires whether the Bonhomme
Richard has Struck; Jones Replies that He has Not yet Commenced
to Fight; The Vessels Come Afoul Again; Jones Lashes Them
Together; The Americans Drop Hand-grenades and Matches Down the
Hatches of the Serapis and Cause a Terrific Explosion; The
Serapis Finally Surrenders; Jones Transfers His Men to the
Serapis; The Bonhomme Richard Sinks; Jones Carries His Force to
the Texel; One of the Most Remarkable Sea Fights on Record. II-13

WASP AND FROLIC. A. D. 1812.

The American Sloop Wasp Encounters the English Sloop Frolic; The
Fight Begins in a Rough Sea; Accurate Firing of the Americans;
The Frolic Terribly Shattered; She Surrenders; The Wasp and Her
Prize Overtaken and Captured by a British 74. II-45

CONSTITUTION. A. D. 1812.

Description of the English Squadron Sent to American Waters; They
Discover the U. S. Frigate Constitution and Give Chase; She
Escapes and Reaches Boston, by Good Seamanship; Puts to Sea again
and Meets the Guerrière; A Sharp Conflict; The British Frigate
Dismasted and Compelled to Surrender; Controversies Regarding the
Relative Strength of the Two Frigates; An English View of the
Fight. II-50

LAKE ERIE, 10th SEPTEMBER, A. D. 1813.

Importance of This Victory; Observations by Roosevelt; Sketch of
Oliver Hazard Perry; He Equips a Fleet on Lake Erie; Strength of
the Enemy’s Forces; Captain Robert Heriot Barclay in Command of
the Latter; His Brilliant Career; Description of the American
Fleet; The British Discovered Near Put-In-Bay; Perry Prepares to
Meet Them; The Battle Opens; Perry’s Flag-ship Suffers Severely;
Her Guns Disabled; Perry Leaves in an Open Boat, for the Niagara;
He Brings Her Into Action and Forces the Enemy to Surrender in
Short Order; Condition of Both Fleets; The Losses; Perry’s Famous
Letter; Incidents Related by Surgeon Parsons. II-67

ESSEX, PHŒBE AND CHERUB.

A Remarkable Engagement; First Appearance of Farragut in History;
Sketch of Captain Porter, Commander of the Essex; Sent to the
South Sea to Destroy the English Merchant Marine; Success of His
Mission; The English Send Commodore James Hillyar to Look After
Him; Porter Goes Into Valparaiso Bay, a Neutral Port; The Phœbe
and Cherub Appear in the Harbor; Friendly Salutations of the
Opposing Commanders; Various Incidents; Hearing of Other English
Vessels, Porter Determines to Escape to Sea; Meets with an
Accident in Rounding a Point; Attacked by the Phœbe and Cherub
while Attempting to Regain Her Former Anchorage; She is Terribly
Cut Up, and Finally Surrenders; Later Incidents; Farragut’s
Observations. II-97

BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN, SEPTEMBER 11th, A. D. 1814.

Important Results of This Battle; Events Relating Thereto; Both
Nations Begin the Building of a Fleet; Captain Thomas McDonough;
The English Invade the Country by Land and Water; Relative
Strength of the Two Armies and Navies; Captain Downie in Command
of the English; The Hostile Fleets Meet Off Plattsburg, September
11th, 1814; Good Judgment of Captain McDonough in Selecting a
Position; The Battle Begins; Steady and Accurate Firing on Both
Sides; McDonough’s Flag-ship, after Having all the Guns on one
side Silenced, Shifts Round, and with the Other Broadside Decides
the Day; Concluding Remarks; Honors to McDonough. II-124

THE CONSTITUTION IN ACTION WITH THE CYANE AND LEVANT. A. D. 1815.

A Singular Action; Captain Charles Stewart; History of the
Constitution Prior to this Event; She Meets the Cyane and Levant
and Captures Both After a Short Action; Details of the Fight;
Skillful Management of the Constitution by Captain Stewart; He
Carries His Prizes to Porto Praya; Discovers a Large Vessel
Outside the Harbor; He gives Instant Orders to Put to Sea; Three
British Vessels of War Turn Up; The Cyane Escapes to New York;
The Levant Returns to Porto Praya Harbor, where the English
Recapture Her; Good Judgment of Captain Stewart; Later History of
the Constitution. II-150

MONITOR AND MERRIMAC. MARCH 9TH, A. D. 1862.

Origin and History of the Merrimac; Strength of the Union Fleet
at Hampton Roads; Government Preparations to Meet the Ironclad
Merrimac; The Latter Makes Her Appearance; Sinks the Cumberland
and Compels the Congress to Strike Her Colors; The Guns of the
Union Fleet Harmless on the Armor of the Merrimac; The Monitor
puts in an Appearance; Her History, and That of Captain Ericsson,
Her Inventor; Details of Her Engagement With the Merrimac; The
Latter Finally Retires; Armament of the Opposing Ironclads;
Subsequent History of the Monitor. II-165

FARRAGUT AT NEW ORLEANS.

The Government Determines to Regain Possession of the
Mississippi; Farragut sent to the Gulf; The Army Under Gen.
Butler to Co-operate With Him; Description of the Approaches to
New Orleans, the Obstructions and Fortifications; Strength of
Farragut’s Fleet; He Determines to Pass the Forts; The Fleet
Advances on the Night of April 23-24; Detailed Account of the
Thrilling Incidents; New Orleans at His Mercy; The City
Surrenders; Destruction of Property by the Confederates; The
Forts Surrender; Minor Details. II-182

ATLANTA AND WEEHAWKEN. JUNE 17TH, A. D. 1863.

The Blockade-runner Fingal Converted Into the Ironclad Atlanta;
Description of Her; Confidence in Her Ability to Destroy the
Monitors; She Leaves Savannah to Break the Blockade and
Encounters the Weehawken; A Trial of Heavy Artillery and Heavy
Armor; The Atlanta Strikes Her Colors in Fifteen Minutes After
the Battle Begins; Details of this Extraordinary Engagement;
Practical Results of this Fight. II-205

KEARSARGE AND ALABAMA. JUNE 19TH, A. D. 1864.

Origin and History of the Alabama; Her Destruction of Our
Commerce; Eludes Our Cruisers; Discovered in Cherbourg Harbor by
Captain Winslow, of the United States Steamer Kearsarge; Semmes,
of the Alabama, Challenges Winslow; The Former is Escorted Beyond
the French Jurisdiction by the French Ironclad Couronne, June
19th, 1864; The Kearsarge Clears for Action; The Battle Opens;
Terrible Effects of the Latter’s Guns; The Alabama Soon Disabled
and Sinking; She Surrenders; An English Yacht, Permitted to Pick
Up the Prisoners, Among Whom are Captain Semmes and Other
Officers, Treacherously Makes Off With Them to England; Letter of
Secretary Welles to Winslow; Other Interesting Particulars. II-210

MOBILE BAY. AUGUST 5TH, A. D. 1864.

Farragut’s Movements After the Battle of New Orleans; His
Promotion; Prepares to Attack Mobile; Minor Incidents;
Description of the Enemy’s Fleet and Fortifications; Names of
Farragut’s Vessels and Their Commanders; The Order to Advance;
Sinking of the Monitor Tecumseh by a Torpedo; Splendid Manœuvring
of the Fleet; Heavy Cannonading on Both Sides; Surrender of the
Confederate Ironclad Tennessee; Further Details of this Great
Battle; Honors to Farragut. II-226

CUSHING AND THE ALBEMARLE. OCTOBER, A. D. 1864.

The Confederates Discovered Building an Ironclad on Roanoke
River, North Carolina; She Makes Her Appearance, Destroys One
Union Vessel, and Injures Several Others; Lieutenant Cushing; His
Singular Character and Daring Adventures; He Sinks the Albemarle
with a Torpedo, while she is Lying at a wharf; His Official
Report; His Subsequent Career; His Death. II-256

FORT FISHER. DECEMBER A. D. 1864, JANUARY A. D. 1865.

Importance of the Place to the Confederates; The Largest Fleet
That Ever Sailed Under the American Flag Invests It, Under
Admiral Porter; The Army Co-operates With the Fleet; Failure of
the First Attack; Gen. Terry Arrives With Reinforcements, and a
Fresh Investment of the Place Begins January 13th, 1865; Details
of This Famous Engagement; Fort Fisher Surrenders; Appearance
After the Battle; Other Incidents; Blockade-runners. II-273

DEEDS OF VALOR ON THE SEAS.

Captain Silas Talbot; Ancestry; In the American Camp; Commands a
Fire-Ship; Grapples the “Asia”; Promoted; Captures the “Pigot”;
Again Promoted; Fits Out the “Pigot” and the “Argo”; Captures
three Prizes from the West Indies; The “King George”; A Terror to
the Coast; Talbot Captures the “King George”; “Argo” Returned to
her Owners; Talbot in Command of a Private Armed Ship; Captured
by an English Fleet; The Notorious Prison Ship “Jersey”; Taken to
England; Dartmoor Prison; Three Attempts at Escape; Exchanged for
an English Officer; At Paris; Sails for America; Captured by a
Privateer; Reaches New York; Retires to a Farm; Selected to
Command a New Frigate; In Command of “Old Ironsides”; Captures
the “Sandwich”; Questions of Rank; Withdraws from the Service;
Buys Land in Kentucky; Characteristics; Death; Burial in Trinity
Church, New York; The Whaleboat Men of the Revolution; George
Raymond; The Connecticut Fleet; A Terror to the British; Daring
Leaders; Captain Mariner; Captain Hyde; Mariner Visits a Tavern
in Disguise; Major Sherbook Denounces Mariner; Mariner Searches
the Major’s House; Captures the Major; Captain Hyler at Egg
Harbor; Captures an English Corvette; Hyler Visits New York in
Disguise; Searches for a Notorious Tory; Captures an East
Indiaman; Hyler on Land; Captures a Hessian Major; Captures four
Trading Sloops; Usefulness of the Whaleboat Men ended with the
War; Captain James Drew; In the English Service; Persecuted by a
Lieutenant; Knocks his Persecutor Down; Escape by Swimming;
Arrives at Philadelphia; Goes to France; In Command of the “De
Brock”; Loaded with Gold and War Material; Lands in Maryland;
Cargo Escorted to Wilmington; Arms to Headquarters; Treasure to a
Mansion; The Gold Stolen; Drew Mans his Ship; Fights an English
Ship; Drew’s Former Persecutor in Command; The Duel on the Deck;
Drew Kills the Commander and Captures the Ship; Drew’s Marriage;
Captures two Prizes of Immense Value; Drew’s Fatal Banquet; Loss
of the “De Brock”; Drew’s Body Washed Ashore; The Churchyard at
Lewes, Delaware; Stephen Decatur; Story of the Barbary Pirates;
The Frigate “Philadelphia”; Captured by Pirates; The Bashaw of
Tripoli; The “Philadelphia” added to the Bashaw’s Fleet; The
“Mastico”; Decatur Burns the “Philadelphia”; Chased by Pirates;
Commodore Preble; Submission of the Bashaw; McDougall and the
“Wyoming”; Searching for the “Alabama”; In Japanese Seas; The
Prince of Nagato; Independent Pirate; His Captures; Fires on the
“Pembroke”; McDougall at Simonoseki; Fights three Japanese
Vessels and Shore Batteries; Disables the Ships; Silences the
Batteries; Demands Indemnity; The Share of the United States;
Captain McGiffen; Graduate of Annapolis; In the Chinese Service;
Battle of the Yalu; Battle between Modern Ships; The Chen Yuen;
Desperate Fighting; McGiffen Thrashes a Coward; Five Hours
Action; McGiffen Terribly Wounded; Returns to America a Physical
Wreck; His Death. II-289

OUR NEW NAVY.

Use of Armor for Ships; Harveyized Nickel Steel; Modern
Explosives; Vessels of the New Navy; The Question of Fuel;
Torpedo Boats; Torpedo Catchers; Speed; The Navies of Europe; Of
China and Japan; Need of a Better Navy; Merchant Vessels; Ship
Yards; Machinery; Duty of Officers; Training of Officers; The
Naval Academy; History of the Institution; Course of Instruction;
Marine Corps; Revenue Marine; Marine Hospital Service; Light
Houses; Training Ships; Life Saving Service; The Flag. II-337

THE EXPLOSION OF THE MAINE.

The Maine at Havana; The Explosion; Loss of Life; Captain
Sigsbee’s Telegram; Description of the Maine; Divers and Wrecking
Apparatus; The Flag Hauled Down; Naval Board of Inquiry; The
Testimony; The Finding of the Court; Feeling in the United
States; Forbearance of the Nation; Chaplain Chidwick; Rumors of
Retaliation; The President and his Advisers. II-398

DEWEY’S ACTION AT MANILA.

First Serious Encounter between the United States and Spain; The
Philippine Islands; Area and Population; Discovery of the Group;
Religious Orders; Island of Luzon; City of Manila; Commerce and
Manufactures; Bay of Manila; Arrival of the United States
Squadron; Partial Destruction; Breakfast; Bombardment Resumed;
Complete Destruction of the Spanish Ships and Forts; Dewey’s
Despatch; Vessels Composing American Fleet; The Action in Detail;
Secretary of the Navy Congratulates Dewey; Congress Votes a Sword
for Dewey; Medals for Officers and Men; Dewey Made a Rear
Admiral. II-415

List of Illustrations

PAGE
0. DECK OF BATTLESHIP INDIANA _Frontispiece._
1. ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN SERAPIS AND BONHOMME RICHARD II-16
2. MEDAL AWARDED TO JOHN PAUL JONES II-43
3. THE WASP BOARDING THE FROLIC II-44
4. CAPTURE OF THE GUERRIERE BY THE CONSTITUTION II-51
5. PERRY’S VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE II-66
6. MCDONOUGH’S VICTORY ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN II-134
7. CAPTURE OF THE CYANE AND LEVANT BY THE CONSTITUTION II-151
8. ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN THE MONITOR AND MERRIMAC II-170
9. NEW ORLEANS--FLEET PASSING FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP II-187
10. SINKING OF THE ALABAMA BY THE KEARSARGE II-211
11. THE NEW BATTLESHIP KEARSARGE II-218
12. FARRAGUT ENTERING MOBILE BAY II-242
13. LE SOLFERINO, 1865 II-255
14. LIEUT. CUSHING’S TORPEDOBOAT SINKING THE ALBEMARLE II-259
15. MONITOR FLEET IN A GALE OFF FORT FISHER II-278
16. THE MIANTONOMOH II-295
17. GUNBOATS ON WESTERN RIVER II-295
18. THE CLERMONT—FULTON’S FIRST STEAMBOAT—1807 II-319
19. FIGHT WITH ALGERINE PIRATES II-319
20. CRUISER FOLLOWING TORPEDO INTO ACTION II-330
21. BATTLESHIP INDIANA II-347
22. CRUISER BALTIMORE II-354
23. BATTLESHIP TEXAS II-363
24. CRUISER CHICAGO II-370
25. BATTLESHIP OREGON II-375
26. CRUISER CINCINNATI II-386
27. CRUISER NEWARK II-391
28. BLOWING UP OF THE MAINE IN HAVANA HARBOR II-399
29. RAM KATAHDIN II-405
30. ADMIRAL DEWEY AND HIS FLAGSHIP OLYMPIA II-414
31. MAP OF MANILA BAY II-419
32. THE BATTLE OF MANILA--THE AMERICAN FLEET II-424
33. THE BATTLE OF MANILA--THE SPANISH FLEET II-425

Naval Battles of America.

SERAPIS AND BONHOMME RICHARD. A. D. 1779.

This remarkable action is interesting not only on account of its bloody
and desperate character, and on account of the sensation it produced at
the time, but because it illustrates one phase of our great struggle
for independence; a considerable space is therefore devoted to it.

The hero of this action, John Paul, was born at Kirkcudbright, in
Scotland, July 6th, 1747; and was sent to sea, as an apprentice, at the
age of twelve. He afterwards made voyages as mate of a slaver, then an
honored and recognized employment for a portion of the English merchant
marine.

At twenty-one he had command of a vessel in the West India trade, so
that his merits as a seaman were early recognized. He afterwards became
a trader in a vessel of his own.

At the age of twenty-six he left the sea; and adopted the name of
Jones. The reason for this does not clearly appear. He may have had
some old scores to clear; and, settling in a new world, may have
thought a new name necessary.

In December, 1775, he was appointed a First Lieutenant in the United
Colonial Navy, and ordered to the Alfred, our first flag-ship. He
hoisted the first flag of the Colonies afloat; a yellow flag, with
the pine tree and rattlesnake. In this ship he participated in several
actions; and was afterwards in command of the Providence, when he only
escaped capture by excellent seamanship. He made many prizes in this
ship.

On Oct. 10th, 1776, he was named the 18th naval captain, and, in
command of the Alfred and Providence, captured a valuable armed ship,
and other prizes, again eluding recapture by good seamanship.

He next went to European waters in command of the Ranger, 18, and there
received, from a French squadron, the first salute to the Stars and
Stripes, by this time adopted.

He cruised in English waters, burning ships at White Haven, and spiking
guns in batteries on shore; and then attempted to carry off the Earl
of Selkirk. In this he failed, but having carried off some of that
nobleman’s plate, was branded by the English as a pirate. This epithet
came with a bad grace from a nation then celebrated for thorough
“looting” of every place which came into their hands, in India, and
elsewhere. The real offence was that Jones was an English subject,
who had renounced his allegiance, and was serving against the mother
country; like all the rest of those engaged in the Revolution. During
this cruise in the Ranger he took the Drake, of 20 guns.

After this he received from the French government an old Indiaman,
called the Duc de Duras, which he renamed the “Bonhomme Richard,” or
Poor Richard, in allusion to the publication by Benjamin Franklin.

He had some other armed vessels, mostly “letters of marque,” under his
command.

The Bonhomme Richard had 40 guns, and a mixed crew, of various
nationalities. Jones sailed under such hampering restrictions that he
was prevented from carrying out many promising projects; but at last,
on the 23d of September, he fell in with a Baltic fleet of merchantmen,
convoyed by the English frigate Serapis, 44, and the Countess of
Scarborough, 20. The result of the engagement which ensued will be
given hereafter.

To continue the sketch of Jones himself, we may say that, in 1780, the
year after this action, he sailed for the United States, in the Ariel,
20, but lost his masts in a severe gale of wind, and was obliged to
return to France; whence he sailed again and arrived safely, about the
beginning of 1781.

He was then launched in the America, 74, which was presented by our
Government to the French; and he made a cruise in her as a volunteer.

In 1783 he was prize agent of the United States in Europe; and finally,
in 1787, while in Denmark, he resigned, and entered the Russian
Navy--hoisting his flag, as Rear Admiral, in the “Vladimir,” on the
28th of June, 1788. He found so much jealousy and enmity towards him
that he resigned in about a year.

Afterwards he resided in Holland and France, and was appointed
Commissioner of the United Slates to Algiers--but his death occurred at
this time, at the age of forty-five.

And now, to return to his cruise in the Bonhomme Richard:--

Paul Jones had obtained so much celebrity for his cruise in the Ranger,
that, after that ship departed for America he remained in France, in
the hope of receiving a more important command.

During the years 1778-9 various projects were discussed, in which he
was to have a part. One idea was to make a descent upon Liverpool, with
a body of troops to be commanded by La Fayette. These plans all came
to nothing, and his offers of service were repulsed; until at last a
singular arrangement was proposed to him.

M. de Sartine, French Minister of Marine, in a letter of February,
14th, 1779, states that the King of France had decided to purchase, and
put at the disposition of Captain Jones, the Duras--an old Indiaman
of some size, then at l’Orient. To this vessel were added three
more, procured by means of M. le Ray de Chaumont, a banker who had
connections with the French Ministry.

Dr. Franklin, who, as Minister of the United States, was supposed, in
a legal sense, to direct the whole affair, added the Alliance, 32, by
virtue of authority from Congress.

The vessels thus procured formed a little squadron, composed of the
Bonhomme Richard, Alliance, Pallas, Cerf, and Vengeance. The Pallas was
a purchased merchantman; the Vengeance a small purchased brig; the Cerf
was a large cutter, and, with the exception of the Alliance, the only
vessel of the squadron built for war purposes. All but the Alliance
were French built, and they were placed under the American flag by
the following arrangement: the officers received appointments, which
were to remain valid for a limited period only, from Dr. Franklin, who
had been furnished blank commissions, to fill at his own discretion,
ever since he had arrived in Europe. The vessels were to show the
American ensign and no other. In short, the French ships were to be
considered as American ships during this particular service: and when
it was terminated they were to revert to their former owners. The laws
and provisions made for the American navy were to govern, and command
was to be exercised, and to descend, according to its usages. Such
officers as already had rank in the American Navy took precedence,
agreeably to dates of commission, and new appointments were regulated
by priority of appointment.

[Illustration: ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN THE SERAPIS AND BONHOMME RICHARD.]

By especial provision, Captain Jones was to be Commander-in-chief, a
post which his original commission entitled him to fill, as Captain
Landais, the only other regular captain in the squadron, was his
junior. The joint right of the American Minister and of the French
Government to direct the movements of the squadron was recognized.

It is not exactly known from what source the money was obtained to
fit out this squadron; and it is likely that it never will be known,
especially as the French Revolution destroyed so many records, public
and private. Although the name of the King was used, it is possible
that private adventure was at the bottom of the enterprise, although
the French Government furnished vessels and the use of its stores.
Dr. Franklin expressly stated that he made no advances for the ships
employed.

As everything connected with this remarkable expedition has interest
for us, it is as well to go a little further into the composition of
the force fitted out by Jones.

After many delays, the Bonhomme Richard was equipped and manned. It
was intended to cast 18-pounders for her, but as that would take too
much time, old 12’s were substituted. With this change in armament, the
Richard, as she was called by the sailors, got ready for sea.

She was, properly, a single-decked ship, that is, carrying her armament
on one gun-deck, with the usual additions on the quarter-deck and
forecastle.

But Commodore Jones, with a view to attacking the enemy’s large
convoys, caused twelve ports to be cut in the gun-room, below, where
six old 18-pounders were mounted, with the intention of fighting all of
them on the same side, in smooth water. It was foreseen that these guns
could only be of use in moderate weather, or when engaged to leeward,
but the ship’s height admitted of them, and it was done.

On her gun-deck proper the ship had twenty-eight ports, the regular
construction of an English 38-gun ship at that time. Here the
12-pounders were placed. On her quarter-deck and forecastle were
mounted eight 9’s; making, in all, a mixed armament, rather light, to
be sure, of 42 guns. If the six 18’s were taken away, the ship would
have been what was called a 32-gun frigate.

She was a clumsy vessel, built many years before, with the high,
old-fashioned poop, which resembled a tower.

With a vessel of this singular armament and unwieldy construction,
Jones was compelled to receive on board a crew of very doubtful
composition. A few Americans filled officers’ positions; but the crew
embraced representatives of more than twelve nationalities. To keep
this motley crew in order, one hundred and thirty-five marines, or
soldiers, were put on board. These were nearly as much mixed, as to
nationalities, as the sailors.

Just as the squadron was about to sail M. le Ray de Chaumont
appeared at l’Orient, and presented a _concordat_ or agreement, for
the signature of all the commanders. This looked very much like a
partnership in a privateering expedition, and was the cause of much
after disobedience among Jones’ captains.

On June 19th, 1779, the ships sailed, bound south, with a small convoy
of vessels. These they escorted safely into the Garonne, and other
ports; but not without repeated exhibition, thus early, of disobedience
of orders, and unseamanlike conduct, which marked the whole career of
this squadron, so ill assorted and manned.

While lying to, off the coast, the Alliance, by lubberly handling,
got foul of the Richard, and lost her mizzen-mast; carrying away, at
the same time, the head, cutwater and jib-boom of the Richard. This
necessitated a return to port, to refit.

When at sea again, and steering to the northward, the Cerf cutter was
sent in chase of a strange sail, and parted company.

The next morning she engaged a small English cruiser, of 14 guns, and
caused her to strike, after a sharp fight of an hour; but she was
forced to abandon her prize by the approach of an enemy’s vessel of
superior force. The Cerf went into l’Orient again.

On the 23d three enemy’s vessels-of-war were seen by the squadron; and,
having the wind, they ran down in a line abreast, when, most probably
deceived by the height and general appearance of the Richard, they
hauled up and escaped under a press of sail. On the 26th the Alliance
and Pallas parted company with the Richard, leaving that ship with the
Vengeance brig only, for consort. On reaching the Penmarks, a headland
of Finisterre, the designated rendezvous, the missing vessels did not
appear. On the 29th, the Vengeance having gone, by permission, into
Groix Roads, the Richard fell in with two more of the English cruisers,
which, after some hesitation, also ran, evidently under the impression
that the Richard was a two-decker.

Jones had reason to be satisfied with the spirit of his crew on this
occasion, the people manifesting a strong disposition to engage.

At last, on the 30th, the Richard ran into Isle Groix, off l’Orient;
and about the same time the Pallas and Alliance came in.

Then another delay occurred. A court was convened to inquire into the
conduct of Captain Landais, of the Alliance, in running foul of the
Richard. Both ships also had to undergo repairs. Luckily, just then a
cartel arrived from England, bringing more than one hundred exchanged
American seamen, most of whom joined the squadron.

This was a most important accession to the crew of the Richard, and
that of the Alliance. Neither of these ships had had many Americans
among their crews. Among those who came from the English prisons was
Mr. Richard Dale, who had been captured as a Master’s Mate, in the
Lexington, 14.

This young officer did not reach France in the cartel, however, but had
previously escaped, came to l’Orient, and joined the Richard. Jones
soon learned his worth, and, in reorganizing his ship, had made him
First Lieutenant.

The Richard had now nearly one hundred American seamen on board, and
all the officers were native Americans, but the commander and one
midshipman. Many of the petty officers were Americans also. In a letter
of August 11th, Jones states that the crew of the Richard consisted of
380 souls, including 137 soldiers, or marines.

On the 14th of August the squadron sailed a second time, from Groix
Roads; having the French privateers Monsieur and Granville in company,
and under Jones’ orders. The first parted company almost immediately,
on account of differences concerning a valuable prize; and another was
taken the day she left.

On the 23d the ships were off Cape Clear, and while towing the
Richard’s head round, in a calm, the crew of the boat, which happened
to be manned by Englishmen, cut the tow-line, and escaped. Mr. Lunt,
the sailing-master, manned another boat, and taking four marines,
pursued the fugitives. A fog came on, and Mr. Lunt not being able to
find the ships again, fell into the hands of the enemy. Through this
desertion, and its immediate consequences, the Richard lost twenty of
her best men.

The day after this escape the Cerf cutter was sent close in, to
reconnoitre, and to look for the missing people; and, for some
unexplained reason this useful vessel never rejoined the squadron.
There appeared to have been no suspicion of any treachery on her part,
and we are left to conjecture the cause of her disappearance.

A gale of wind followed, during which the Alliance and Pallas
separated, and the Granville parted company, by order, with a prize.
The separation of the Pallas was caused by the breaking of her tiller;
but that of the Alliance was due to the unofficerlike and unseamanlike
conduct of her commander.

On the morning of the 27th the brig Vengeance was the only vessel in
company with the Commodore.

On August 31st the Bonhomme Richard, being off Cape Wrath,
the northwest extremity of Scotland, captured a large English
letter-of-marque, bound from London to Quebec; a circumstance which
proves the expedients to which their ship-masters were then driven
to avoid capture, this vessel having gone north about, to escape the
cruisers on the ordinary track. While in chase of the letter-of-marque,
the Alliance hove in sight, having another London ship, from Jamaica,
as a prize.

Captain Landais, of the Alliance, was an officer who had been obliged
to quit the French Navy on account of his unfortunate temper. He now
began to show a disorganizing and mutinous spirit; pretending, as his
ship was the only real American vessel in the squadron, that that fact
rendered him superior to Jones, and that he should do as he pleased
with his ship.

That afternoon a strange sail was made, and the Richard showed the
Alliance’s number, with an order to close. Instead of obeying the
signal, Captain Landais wore, and laid the head of his ship in the
opposite direction. Other signals were disobeyed; and the control
of Commodore Jones over the ship, which ought to have been the most
efficient of the squadron, may be said to have ceased.

Jones now shaped his course for the rendezvous he had appointed, in
hopes of meeting the missing ships, and the Pallas rejoined him, having
captured nothing.

From then until the 13th of September the squadron continued its course
round Scotland; the ships separating and rejoining constantly, and
Captain Landais assuming power over the prizes, as well as over his own
vessel, that was altogether opposed to discipline and to marine usage.

On the 13th of September the Cheviot Hills were in sight from the
ships. Understanding that a 20-gun ship, with two or three man-of-war
cutters, were lying at anchor off Leith, in the Frith of Forth,
Commodore Jones planned a descent upon that town. At this time the
Alliance was absent, and the Pallas and Vengeance having chased to the
southward, the necessity of communicating with those vessels caused a
fatal delay, and ruined a promising project. The attempt was at last
made, but when the men were actually in the boats the ships were driven
out of the Frith by a heavy blow; and when in the North Sea one of
their prizes actually foundered.

The design was so audacious that it is probable the English would have
been taken by surprise; and no doubt much damage would have been done
to them, but for the gale. Dale, a modest and prudent man, thought so.

After this bold project was abandoned, Jones appears to have meditated
another still more daring; but his _colleagues_, as he bitterly styles
his captains, refused to join in it. We do not know what it was; but
only that the officers of Jones’ own ship heartily approved it. Jones
had much respect for the judgment of Captain Cottineau, of the Pallas,
and as he disapproved of it, it was dropped.

The Pallas and Vengeance even left the Richard--probably with a view to
prevent the attempt to execute this nameless scheme; and the Commodore
was compelled to follow his captains to the southward or lose them
altogether.

Off Whitby they came together again, and on Sept. 21st the Richard
chased a collier ashore, near Flamborough Head.

The next day she was at the mouth of the Humber, the Vengeance being
in company, and several vessels were taken or destroyed. Pilots were
enticed on board, and a knowledge of the state of things inshore
obtained. It appeared that the whole coast was alarmed, and that many
persons were burying their plate. By this time about a dozen vessels
had been taken, and rumor increased the number. No vessels had ever
before excited such local alarm on British shores, for centuries.

Under the circumstances Commodore Jones did not think it prudent to
remain so close in with the land, and he accordingly stood out under
Flamborough Head. Here he was joined, next day, by the Pallas and
Alliance. This was on the 23d of September.

The wind was light from the southward, the water smooth, and many
vessels in sight, steering in different directions. About noon the
squadron, with the exception of the Cerf and the two privateers, being
all in company, Jones manned one of the pilot-boats he had detained,
and sent her in chase of a brig, which was lying to, to windward. On
board the little vessel were Mr. Lunt, the Second Lieutenant, and
fifteen men, all of whom were absent from the ship for the rest of the
day.

In consequence of the loss of the two boats off Cape Clear, the absence
of the party in the pilot-boat, and the number of men that had been
put in prizes, the Richard was now left with only one lieutenant, and
with but little more than three hundred souls on board, exclusive of
prisoners. Of the latter there were about one hundred and fifty in the
Richard.

The pilot-boat had hardly left the Richard when the leading ships of a
fleet of more than forty sails were seen stretching out on a bowline
from behind Flamborough Head, turning down to the south. From previous
intelligence this fleet was immediately known to be the Baltic ships,
under the convoy of the Serapis, 44, Captain Richard Pearson, and
a hired ship that had been put into the King’s service, called the
Countess of Scarborough. The latter was commanded by Captain Piercy,
and mounted 22 guns.

As the interest of the succeeding details will principally centre in
the two ships, the Serapis and Bonhomme Richard, it may be well to give
a more minute account of the actual force of the former. At that period
44’s were usually built on two decks; and such was the construction of
this ship, which was new, and was reputed to be a fast vessel. On her
lower gun-deck she mounted 20 18-pound guns; and on her upper gun-deck
20 9-pound guns; and on her quarter-deck and forecastle ten 6-pound
guns; making an armament of fifty guns.

She had a regularly trained man-of-war’s crew of 320 souls, of whom
fifteen are said to have been Lascars.

When Jones made out the convoy, the men-of-war were inshore, astern,
and to leeward, probably with a view to keeping the merchantmen
together. The officials at Scarborough, perceiving the danger into
which this fleet was running, had sent a boat off to the Serapis, to
apprise her of the presence of a hostile force, and Captain Pearson
fired two guns, signaling the leading vessels to come under his lee.
These orders were disregarded, however, the headmost ships continuing
to stand out from the land.

Jones, having ascertained the character of the fleet in sight, showed
signal for a general chase; and another to recall the lieutenant in the
pilot-boat.

The Richard then crossed royal-yards. These signs of hostility alarmed
the nearer English merchant ships, which hurriedly tacked, fired alarm
guns, let fly their top-gallant-sheets, and made other signals of
the danger they found themselves in; while they now gladly availed
themselves of the presence of the men-of-war to run to leeward, or else
seek shelter close in with the land.

The Serapis, on the contrary, signaled the Scarborough to follow, and
hauled boldly out to sea, until she got far enough to windward, when
she tacked, and stood inshore again, to cover her convoy.

The Alliance being much the fastest vessel of the American squadron,
took the lead in the chase, speaking the Pallas as she passed. It has
been proved that Captain Landais told the commander of the latter
vessel, on this occasion, that if the stranger proved to be a
fifty-gun ship, they had nothing to do but to escape. His subsequent
conduct fully confirms this; for no sooner had he run down near
enough to the two English vessels-of-war to ascertain their force,
than he hauled up, and stood off from the land again. This was not
only contrary to all regular order of naval battle, but contrary to
the positive command of Jones, who had kept the signal to form line
flying; which should have brought the Alliance astern of the Bonhomme
Richard, and the Pallas in the van. Just at this time the Pallas spoke
the Richard, and inquired what station she should take, and she was
directed to fall into line.

Captain Cottineau was a brave man, who subsequently did his duty in the
action, and he had only thought that, because the Richard had suddenly
hauled up from the land, her crew had mutinied, and that she was
being run away with. Such was the want of confidence in the force so
singularly composed, and such were the disadvantages under which this
celebrated combat was fought.

So far, however, from meditating retreat or mutiny, the crew of the
Richard had gone cheerfully to their quarters, although every man on
board was conscious of the force of the enemy with whom they were about
to contend; and the spirit of the commanding officer appears to have
communicated itself to his men.

It was now quite dark, and Jones was compelled to use a night-glass,
to follow the movements of the enemy. It is probable that the darkness
added to the indecision of the captain of the Pallas, for even after
the moon rose it was thick, and objects at a distance were seen with
difficulty. The Richard continued to stand steadily on; and at about
half-past seven she came up with the Serapis; the Scarborough being a
short distance to leeward. The American ship was to windward, and, as
she slowly approached, Captain Pearson hailed. The answer returned
was purposely equivocal, and both ships delivered their broadsides at
almost the same moment.

As the water was quite smooth, Jones had relied very much upon the
eighteen-pounders which were in the Richard’s gun-room; but at this
first discharge, two of the six that were fired bursted, blowing up the
deck above, and killing or wounding many of the people stationed below.
This disaster rendered it impossible to make the men stand at the
other heavy guns, as they could have no confidence in them. It at once
reduced the broadside of the Richard to about one-third less than that
of her opponent; and the force which remained was distributed among
the light guns, in a disadvantageous manner. In short, the battle was
now between a twelve-pounder and an eighteen-pounder frigate; with the
chances almost preponderatingly in favor of the latter.

Jones himself said that after this accident his hopes rested solely
upon the twelve-pounders that were immediately under the command of his
First Lieutenant, Dale.

The Richard, having backed her top-sails, exchanged several broadsides,
when she filled again and shot ahead of the Serapis; which ship luffed
across her stern, and came up on the weather quarter of her antagonist,
taking the wind out of her sails, and, in her turn, passing ahead.

All this time, which was about half an hour, the fire was close and
furious. The Scarborough now drew near; but it is uncertain whether she
fired or not. The officers of the Richard state that she raked them at
least once; but her commander reported that, owing to the smoke and
darkness, he was afraid to discharge his guns, not being able to make
out which ship was friend and which foe.

Unwilling to lie by and be uselessly exposed to shot, Captain Piercy
edged away from the combatants, exchanging one or two broadsides, at a
great distance, with the Alliance, and shortly afterward was engaged
at close quarters by the Pallas, which ship compelled him to strike to
her, after a creditable resistance of about an hour.

Let us now return to the principal combatants:--

As the Serapis kept her luff, sailing and working better than the
Richard, it was the intention of Captain Pearson to pay broad off,
across the Richard’s fore-foot, as soon as he had got far enough ahead.
But making the attempt and finding he had not room, he put his helm
down, to keep clear of his adversary, and this double movement brought
the two ships nearly in a line, the Serapis leading.

By these evolutions the English ship lost some of her way, while the
American, having kept her sails trimmed, not only closed, but actually
ran on board of her antagonist, bows on, a little on her starboard
quarter. The wind being light, much time was consumed in these
manœuvres, and nearly an hour had elapsed between the firing of the
first gun and the moment when the vessels got foul of each other, in
the manner just described. The English thought it was the intention of
the Americans to board; and for some minutes it was uncertain whether
they would do so or not, but the position was not safe for either party
to pass into the opposing ship.

There being at this time a complete cessation of the firing, Captain
Pearson hailed, and asked whether the Richard had struck. “I have not
yet begun to fight,” was the answer from Jones.

The Richard’s yards were then braced aback, and the sails of the
Serapis being full, the ships separated.

As soon as they were far enough apart, the Serapis put her helm hard
down, laid all aback forward, shivered her after sails, and wore short
round on her heel, with a view, most probably, of luffing up across
the Richard’s bow, in order to rake her. In this position the Richard
would have been fighting her starboard, and the Serapis her port guns;
but Jones, by this time, had become convinced of the hopelessness
of success against so much heavier metal; and so backed astern some
distance, filled on the other tack, and luffed up, with the intention
of meeting the enemy as he came to the wind, and of laying him athwart
hawse.

In the smoke and dim light, one or the other party miscalculated the
distance, for the vessels came foul again, the bowsprit of the English
vessel passing over the poop of the American. As neither had much way
the collision did but little injury, and Jones, with his own hands,
immediately lashed the enemy’s head-gear to his mizzen-mast. The
pressure on the after sails of the Serapis, which vessel was nearly
before the wind at the time, brought her hull round, and the two ships
gradually fell close alongside of each other, head and stern; the
jib-boom of the Serapis giving way with the strain. A spare anchor
of the English ship now hooked in the quarter of the American, and
additional lashings were got out on board the latter, to secure her
opponent in this position.

Captain Pearson, who was a brave and excellent officer, was fully aware
of his superiority in weight of metal; and he no sooner perceived that
the vessels were foul than he dropped an anchor, in the hope that the
Richard would drift clear of him. But, of course, such an expectation
was futile, as the yards were interlocked, the hulls pressed close
together, there were lashings fore and aft, and every projection aided
in holding the two ships together. When the cable of the Serapis took
the strain, the vessels slowly tended, with the bows of the Serapis and
the stern of the Richard, to the tide.

At this time the English made an attempt to board, but were repulsed,
with trifling loss. All this time there was a heavy fire kept up from
the guns. The lower ports of the Serapis having been closed as the
vessel swung, to prevent boarding, they were now blown off, to allow
the guns to be run out; and cases actually occurred in which the
rammers had to be thrust into the ports of the opposing ship, in order
to be entered in the muzzles of their proper guns. It was evident
that such a state of things could not last long. In effect, the heavy
metal of the Serapis, in one or two discharges, cleared all before it,
and the main-deck guns of the Richard were almost abandoned. Most of
her people went upon the upper deck, and a great number collected on
the forecastle, where they were safe from the battery of the Serapis;
continuing the fight by throwing grenades and using muskets.

At this stage of the action, then, the Serapis was tearing the American
to pieces, below, at each discharge of her battery; the latter only
replying to the English fire by two guns on the quarter-deck, and
three or four of her twelve-pounders. To the quarter-deck guns Jones
succeeded in adding a third, by shifting a gun from the port side; and
all these were used with effect, under his own eye, until the close of
the action.

He tried to get over a second gun, from the port side, but did not
succeed.

The fight must now have been decided in favor of the English, but for
the courage and activity of the people aloft. Strong parties were
placed in the tops, and, after a sharp and short contest, the Americans
had driven every man of the enemy from the upper deck of the English
frigate. After this they kept up so sharp a fire of small-arms upon the
quarter-deck of the English ship as to keep it clear, shooting down
many in the operation.

Thus, this singular condition of affairs obtained, that, while the
English had the battle very much to themselves, below, the Americans
had control of their upper deck and tops. Having cleared the latter,
some of the American seamen laid out on the Richard’s main-yard, and
began to throw hand grenades down upon the deck of the British ship;
while the men on the Richard’s forecastle seconded these efforts by
casting grenades, and other combustibles, through the ports of the
Serapis.

At length one man, in particular, became so bold as to take up his post
on the extreme end of the yard; and being provided with a bucket of
grenades and a match, he dropped the explosives upon the enemy, one of
them passing down the Serapis’ main hatchway. The powder boys of the
English ship had got up more cartridges than were needed at the moment,
and had carelessly laid a row of them along her main deck, parallel
with the guns.

The grenade which came down the hatch set fire to some loose powder on
the deck, and the flash passed to these cartridges, beginning abreast
of the main-mast, and running away aft.

The effect of the explosion was awful. More than twenty men were
instantly killed; many of them being left with nothing on them but the
collars and wrist-bands of their shirts, and the waist-bands of their
duck trowsers. This is often the effect of explosions in confined
places.

The official returns of Captain Pearson, made a week after the action,
show that there were no less than thirty-three wounded on board then,
still alive, who had been injured at this time; and thirty of them
were said to be in great danger.

Captain Pearson reported that the explosion destroyed nearly all the
men at the five or six aftermost guns of the Serapis; and, altogether,
nearly sixty of the Serapis’ men must have been instantly disabled by
this sudden blow.

The advantages thus obtained by the coolness and intrepidity of the
topmen of the Bonhomme Richard, in a measure restored the chances of
the fight, and, by lessening the fire of the enemy, enabled Jones to
increase his. And in the same degree that it encouraged the Americans
did it diminish the hopes of the English.

One of the guns, directed by Jones himself, had been for some time
firing against the main-mast of his enemy; while the two others were
assisting in clearing his decks with grape and canister. Kept below
decks by this double attack, where they had a scene of horror before
their eyes in the agonies of the wounded, and the other effects of
the explosion, the spirits of the English crew began to droop, and a
very little would have caused them to surrender. From this despondency
they were temporarily raised by one of the unlooked-for events which
characterize every battle, whether afloat or ashore.

After exchanging the ineffectual and distant broadsides with the
Scarborough, as already mentioned, the Alliance had kept standing off
and on, to leeward of the two principal ships, and out of the direction
of their shot, when, about half-past eight, she appeared, crossing the
stern of the Serapis, and the bow of the Richard, and firing, at such a
distance, and in such a way, that it was impossible to say which vessel
would suffer the most.

As soon as she had drawn out of range of her own guns, her helm was
put up, and she ran down near a mile to leeward, and hovered about,
aimlessly, until the firing had ceased between the Pallas and the
Scarborough, when she suddenly came within hail, and spoke both vessels.

Captain Cottineau, of the Pallas, earnestly entreated Captain Landais,
of the Alliance, to take possession of his prize, and allow him to go
to the assistance of the Richard, or else to stretch up to windward in
the Alliance, and go to the succor of the Commodore.

After some delay, Captain Landais took the very important duty of
assisting his consort into his own hands, and, making two long
stretches, under top-sails only, he appeared, at about the time at
which we have arrived in the story of the fight, directly to windward
of the two ships which were locked together in mortal combat. The head
of the Alliance was then to the westward. This ship then opened fire
again, doing at least as much damage to friend as foe. Keeping away a
little, she was soon on the port-quarter of the Richard; and some of
the people of the latter affirmed that her guns were discharged until
she had got nearly abeam.

Many voices now hailed, to inform the Alliance that she was firing
into the wrong ship; and three lanterns were shown in a line on the
off-side of the Richard, which was the regular signal for recognition
in a night action. An officer was then directed to hail, to command
Captain Landais to lay the enemy on board; and, the question being put
as to whether the order was understood, an answer was given in the
affirmative.

As the moon had now been up for some time, it was impossible not to
distinguish between the two vessels. The Richard was all black, while
the Serapis had yellow sides; and the impression among the people of
the Richard was that Landais had intentionally attacked her.

Indeed, as soon as the Alliance began to fire, the people left one or
two of the twelves on board the Richard, which they had begun to fight
again, saying that the English in the Alliance had got possession of
the ship and were helping the enemy.

The Alliance’s fire dismounted a gun, extinguished several
battle-lanterns on the main deck, and did much damage aloft. This ship
now hauled off to some distance, always keeping the Richard between her
and the enemy; and then she re-appeared, edging down on the port beam
of her consort, and hauling up athwart the bows of that ship and the
stern of her antagonist. The officers of the Richard reported that her
fire then recommenced, when by no possibility could her shot reach the
Serapis, except through the Bonhomme Richard. In fact, it appears that
this Landais was one of those men who, for generations, affected the
French character for seamanship and conduct in naval battles.

There were, and are, many excellent French seamen, and as builders of
vessels they are unexcelled. But some men, like Landais, at that time
had destroyed their reputation afloat.

Ten or twelve men appear to have been killed on the forecastle of
the Richard at this time, that part being crowded, and among them an
officer of the name of Caswell, who, with his dying breath, maintained
that he had received his death wound from the friendly vessel.

After crossing the bows of the Richard and the stern of the Serapis,
delivering grape as he passed, this “lunatic Frenchman” ran off to
leeward again, standing off and on, and doing absolutely nothing for
the remainder of the fight. It was as if a third party, seeing two men
fighting, should come up and throw a stone or two at them both, and
then retire, saying he had rather the little fellow whipped.

The fire of the Alliance certainly damaged the Bonhomme Richard, and
increased her leaks; and the latter vessel by this time had leaked so
much through her shot-holes that she had begun to settle in the water.
Many witnesses affirmed that the most dangerous shot-holes received
by the Richard were under her port bow and port-quarter; or, in other
words, where they could not have been received from the Serapis. But
this is not entirely reliable, as it has been seen that the Serapis
luffed up on the port-quarter of the Richard in the commencement of
the action, and, forging ahead, was subsequently on her port bow,
endeavoring to cross her fore-foot. These shots may very possibly have
been received then, and as the Richard settled in the water, have
suddenly increased the danger. On the other hand, if the Alliance did
actually fire while on the bow and quarter of the Richard, as appears
by a mass of testimony, the dangerous shot-holes may have very well
come from that ship.

Let the injuries have been received from what quarter they might,
soon after the Alliance had run to leeward again an alarm was spread
throughout the Richard that she was sinking.

Both the contending ships had been on fire several times, and the
flames had been extinguished with difficulty; but here was a new enemy
to contend with, and, as the information came from the Carpenter, whose
duty it was to sound the pump-well, it produced a good deal of alarm.

The Richard had more than a hundred English prisoners on board; and the
Master-at-Arms, in the hurry of the moment, and to save their lives,
let them up from below. In the confusion of such a scene, at night, in
a torn and sinking vessel, the Master of the letter-of-marque that
had been taken off the north of Scotland, passed through a port of the
Richard into one of the Serapis, where he reported to Captain Pearson
that a few minutes would probably decide the battle in his favor, or
carry his enemy down, as he (the Captain of the privateer) had been
liberated in order to save his life.

Just at this moment the gunner of the Bonhomme Richard, who had not
much to do at his quarters, came on deck, and not seeing Commodore
Jones, or Mr. Dale, both of whom were occupied with the liberated
prisoners, and believing the Master (the only other superior officer of
the ship) to be dead, he ran up on the poop, to haul down the colors,
and, as he believed save all their lives.

Fortunately, the flag-staff had been shot away, and as the ensign
already hung in the water, he had no other means of letting his
intentions be known than by bawling out for quarter.

Captain Pearson now hailed, to inquire if the Richard demanded quarter,
and Commodore Jones, hearing the hail, replied “No.”

It is probable that the reply was not heard; or if heard, supposed to
come from an unauthorized source; for, encouraged from what he had
heard from the escaped prisoner, by the cries, and by the confusion
which appeared to reign on board the Richard, the English Captain
directed his boarders to be called away, and, as soon as they were
mustered, he directed them to take possession of the prize. Some of the
Englishmen actually got upon the gunwale of the American ship, but,
finding boarders ready to repel boarders, they precipitately retreated.
The Richard’s topmen were not idle at this time, and the enemy were
soon driven below again, with loss. In the meantime Mr. Dale (who was
afterwards Commodore Dale) had no longer a gun which could be fought,
and he mustered the prisoners at the pumps, turning their consternation
to account, and probably keeping the Richard afloat by this very
blunder that had come so near losing her.

Both ships were now on fire again, and both sides, with the exception
of a very few guns on board each vessel, ceased firing, in order to
turn to and subdue this common enemy.

In the course of the battle the Serapis is said to have been on fire no
less than twelve times; while, towards its close, as will be seen in
the sequel, the Bonhomme Richard had been burning all the time. As soon
as order was restored in the American ship, after the gunner’s call for
quarter, her chances of success began to increase; while the English,
driven under cover, appeared to lose the hope of victory. Their fire
slackened very materially, while the Richard again brought a few guns
to bear.

It was an example of immense endurance, on either side; but as time
went on, the main-mast of the Serapis began to totter, and her
resistance, in general, to lessen.

About an hour after the explosion, or about three hours and a half
after the first gun was fired, and about two hours and a half after the
ships were lashed together, Captain Pearson hauled down his colors with
his own hands, his men refusing to expose themselves to the fire of the
Richard’s tops.

As soon as it was known that the English colors were down, Mr. Dale got
upon the gunwale of the Richard, and, laying hold of the main-brace
pendant, swung himself on board the Serapis. On the quarter-deck he
found the gallant Captain Pearson, almost alone, that officer having
maintained his post throughout the whole of this close and murderous
engagement, proving himself a man of great nerve and ability.

Just as Mr. Dale addressed the English Captain the First Lieutenant of
the Serapis came up from below, to inquire if the Richard had struck,
as her fire had entirely ceased. Mr. Dale informed the English officer
that he had mistaken the position of things, the Serapis having struck
to the Richard, and not the Richard to the Serapis. Captain Pearson
confirming this, his surprised subordinate acquiesced, offering to go
below and silence the guns on the main deck, which were still playing
on the American ship. To this Mr. Dale would not consent, but passed
both the English officers at once on board the Bonhomme Richard. The
firing below then ceased. Mr. Dale had been closely followed to the
quarter-deck of the Serapis by a midshipman, Mr. Mayrant, with a party
of boarders, and as the midshipman struck the quarter-deck of the
prize, he was run through the thigh with a boarding pike, in the hands
of a man who was ignorant of the surrender. Thus did the close of this
remarkable sea-fight resemble its other features in singularity, blood
being shed, and shot fired, while the boarding officer was in amicable
discourse with his prisoners.

As soon as Captain Pearson was on board the Bonhomme Richard, and
a proper number of hands sent to Mr. Dale, in the prize, Commodore
Jones ordered the lashings to be cut, and the vessels to be separated,
hailing the Serapis, as the Richard drifted from alongside of her, and
ordering her to follow his own ship. Mr. Dale had the head-sails of the
Serapis braced sharp aback, and the helm put down, but the vessel did
not obey either the canvas or the helm. Mr. Dale was so surprised and
excited at this that he sprang from the binnacle, to see the cause, and
fell, full length, on deck. He had been severely wounded in the leg,
by a splinter, and until that moment had been ignorant of the injury.
He had just been picked up and seated, when the Master of the Serapis
came up and informed him of the fact that the ship was anchored. By
this time Mr. Lunt, the Second Lieutenant, who had been away in the
pilot-boat, had got alongside, and came on board the prize, when Mr.
Dale gave him charge, the cable was cut, and the ship followed the
Richard, as ordered.

Although this protracted and bloody contest had now ended, the victors
had not done with either dangers or labors. The Richard was not only
sinking, from shot-holes, but she was on fire, so that the flames had
got within the ceiling, and extended so far that they menaced the
magazine; while all the pumps, in constant use, could barely keep the
water in the hold from increasing.

Had it depended upon the exhausted crews of the two combatants the
ship must soon have foundered; but the other vessels now sent men on
board to assist. So imminent did the danger from the fire become, that
all the powder left was got on deck, to prevent an explosion. In this
manner did the night of the battle pass, with one gang always at the
pumps and another fighting the flames, until about ten o’clock in the
forenoon of the 24th, when the fire was got under.

Before daylight that morning eight or ten Englishmen, of the Richard’s
crew, had stolen a boat of the Serapis, and made their escape, landing
at Scarborough. Several other men of the Richard were so alarmed at the
condition of the ship that, during the night, they jumped overboard and
swam to the other vessels. At daylight an examination of the ship was
made. Aloft, on a line with those guns of the Serapis which had not
been disabled by the explosion, the timbers were nearly all beaten in,
or beaten out, for in this respect there was little difference between
the two sides of the ship. It is said, indeed, that her poop and
upper-decks would have fallen into the gun-room, but for a few futtocks
which the shot had missed.

So large was the vacuum, in fact, that most of the shot fired from
this part of the Serapis, at the close of the action, must have gone
through the Richard without touching anything. The rudder was cut from
the stern-post, and her transoms were nearly driven out of her. All the
after part of the ship, in particular, that was below the quarter-deck,
was torn to pieces; and nothing had saved those stationed on the
quarter-deck but the impossibility of elevating guns which almost
touched their object.

The result of the examination was to convince every one of the
impossibility of carrying the Richard into port, in the event of its
coming on to blow.

Commodore Jones reluctantly gave the order to remove the wounded, while
the weather continued fair.

The following night and a portion of the succeeding day were employed
in this duty; and about nine in the morning the officer who was in
charge of the ship, with a party at the pumps, finding that the water
had reached the lower deck, at last abandoned her.

About ten, the Bonhomme Richard wallowed heavily, gave another roll,
and went down, bows foremost.

The Serapis suffered much less than the Richard, as the guns of the
latter were so light, and so soon silenced; but no sooner were the
ships separated, than her main-top-mast fell, bringing with it the
mizzen-topmast. Though jury-masts were erected, the ship drove about,
nearly helpless, in the North Sea, until the 6th of October, when the
remains of the squadron, with the two prizes, got into the Texel, the
port to which they had been ordered to repair.

In this battle an unusual number of lives were lost; but no
authenticated report seems to have come from either side. The English
stated the loss of the Richard to have been about three hundred,
in killed and wounded. This would include nearly all on board that
ship, and was, of course, a mistake. The muster-roll of the Richard,
excluding the marines, which roll was in existence long after, shows
that 42 men were killed, or died of wounds very shortly, and that 41
were wounded. No list of the casualties of the marines is given. This
would make a total of 83 out of 227 souls. But some of those on the
muster-roll were not in the battle at all, for both junior lieutenants,
and about 30 men with them, were absent in prizes.

There were a few volunteers on board, who were not mustered, and so,
if we set down 200 as the regular crew during the action, we shall not
be far wrong. Estimating the marines at 120, and observing the same
proportion for casualties, we shall get 49 for the result, which will
make the entire loss of the Richard one hundred and thirty-two.

It is known, however, that in the course of the action the soldiers
suffered out of proportion to the rest of the crew, and as general
report made the gross loss of the Bonhomme Richard 150, it is probable
that this was about the number.

Captain Pearson made a partial report, putting his loss at 117;
admitting, at the same time, that there were many killed who were not
reported.

Probably the loss of the two ships was about equal, and that nearly or
quite half of all engaged were either killed or wounded.

In a private letter, written some time after, Jones gives an opinion
that the loss of men in the two ships was about equal. Muster-rolls
were loosely kept, in those days.

That two vessels of so much force should be lashed together for more
than two hours, making use of artillery, musketry, and all the other
means of offence known to the warfare of the day, and not do even
greater injury to their crews, must strike every one with astonishment.
But the fact must be ascribed to the peculiarities of the battle,
which, by driving the English under cover early in the fight, and
keeping the Americans above the chief line of fire of their enemy, in a
measure protected each side from the missiles of the other. As it was,
it was a most sanguinary conflict, with a duration prolonged by unusual
circumstances.

Great interest has always attached to this typical sea-fight. Scarcely
any of the eye-witnesses agreed as to the facts. The principal
information was given to Fennimore Cooper by Commodore Dale. Captain
Pearson stated that the Alliance kept about them all the time, raking
them fore and aft. This statement is contradicted by the certificates
of the officers of the Richard, by persons who were on board the
Alliance, by the persons who were in the boat, and by officers of the
other vessels near.

The First Lieutenant and the Master of the Alliance admitted that they
were never on the free side of the Serapis at all, and their ship never
went round her. They also said that they engaged the Scarborough, at
long shot, for a short time; a fact corroborated by Captain Piercy.
They added that their ship was a long time aloof from the fight, and
that she only fired three broadsides, or parts of broadsides, at the
Richard and Serapis.

From the testimony it is likely that the Alliance injured the Richard
much more than she did the Serapis. This does not detract from the
merit of the gallant Captain Pearson, who could not have known that,
and the proximity of the Alliance no doubt influenced him in inducing
him to lower his flag.

It is and always will be a matter of doubt as to whether the
Scarborough raked the Bonhomme Richard before she was engaged with the
other ships.

Altogether, this was one of the most remarkable sea-fights on record.

The arrival of Jones and his prizes in the Texel excited much interest
in the diplomatic world. The English demanded that the prizes should be
released and Jones himself given up as a pirate. The Dutch government,
though favorable to the Americans, was not prepared for war, and
therefore temporized. A long correspondence ensued, and the following
expedient was adopted. The Serapis, which had been refitted, was
transferred to France, as was the Scarborough, while Jones took command
of the Alliance; Landais having been suspended, and ordered to quit the
country. Landais was afterward restored to command, but deposed again,
on the ground of insanity; and eventually discharged the service.

[Illustration: MEDAL AWARDED TO JOHN PAUL JONES BY THE AMERICAN
CONGRESS.]

[Illustration: THE WASP BOARDING THE FROLIC.]

WASP AND FROLIC. A. D. 1812.

On November 13th, 1812, the American 18-gun ship-sloop Wasp, Captain
Jacob Jones, with a crew of 137 men, sailed from the Delaware, and ran
off southeast, to get into the track of the West India traders. On
the next day she encountered a heavy gale, and lost her jib-boom and
two men who were upon it. On the 17th, the weather having moderated
somewhat, she discovered several sail, which were part of a convoy
of merchantmen from Honduras, bound for England, under convoy of the
British 18-gun brig-sloop Frolic, of 19 guns and 110 men, commanded by
Captain Whinyates. They had been dispersed by the gale of the 16th, in
which the Frolic had lost her main yard. The Frolic had spent the next
day in repairing damages, and by dark, six of her missing convoy had
rejoined her. On Sunday, the 18th, which was a fine day, the convoy was
discovered ahead and to leeward of the American ship, Captain Jones not
choosing to close during the night, as he was ignorant of the force
opposed to him.

The Wasp now sent down top-gallant yards, close reefed her top-sails,
and bore down under short fighting canvas. The Frolic lashed her
damaged yard on deck, and hauled by the wind, under her boom main-sail
and close reefed fore-top-sail, hoisting Spanish colors to decoy the
stranger down, and permit her convoy to escape. By half-past eleven the
ships were close together, and running on the starboard tack, parallel,
and not more than sixty yards apart. They then commenced firing, the
Wasp her port, and the Frolic her starboard battery. The latter fired
very rapidly, delivering three broadsides to the Wasp’s two, both crews
cheering loudly as the ships wallowed through the water, abreast of
each other. There was a very heavy sea running, left by the gale, which
caused the vessels to roll and pitch heavily. The Americans fired as
the engaged side of their ship was going down, aiming at the Frolic’s
hull, while the English fired while on the crest of the seas, their
shot going high.

The water flew in clouds of spray over both vessels, which rolled so
that the muzzles of the guns went under, but in spite of this the
firing was spirited and well directed. In five minutes the Wasp’s
main-top-mast was shot away, and fell across the port fore and
fore-top-sail braces, rendering her head yards unmanageable. Ten
minutes after her gaff and mizzen-top-gallant mast came down, and by
eleven o’clock every brace and most of her rigging was shot away, so
that it was impossible to brace her yards.

But in the meantime the Frolic had suffered dreadfully in her hull
and lower masts, and her gaff and head braces were also shot away.
The slaughter among her crew was also very great; but the survivors
kept at their work with the dogged courage of their race. At first
the two vessels ran side by side, but the American gradually forged
ahead, throwing in her fire from a position in which she herself
received little injury. By degrees they drew so close together that the
Americans struck the Frolic’s side with their rammers, in loading, and
began to rake the British vessel with dreadful effect.

The Frolic then fell on board her antagonist, her jib-boom coming in
between the main and mizzen-rigging of the Wasp, and passing over the
heads of Captain Jones and Lieutenant Biddle, who were standing by the
capstan, on the quarter-deck.

This forced the Wasp up into the wind, and she again raked the Frolic,
Captain Jones trying to restrain his crew, who were anxious to board,
until he could put in another broadside. But they could not be held
back, and Jack Lang, a seaman from New Jersey, leaped on the Frolic’s
bowsprit. Lieutenant Biddle then mounted the hammock-cloth, to board,
but got his feet entangled in some rigging, and one of the midshipmen
seizing his coat-tails, to help himself up, the Lieutenant tumbled
back on the deck. As the ship rose to the next swell he succeeded in
getting on the bowsprit, on which were one or two seamen of his ship.
But there was no one to oppose them. The man at the wheel stood grim
and undaunted, and there were two or three more about the deck, among
them Captain Whinyates and his First Lieutenant, both so severely
wounded that they could not stand without support. There could be no
more resistance, and Lieutenant Biddle hauled down the flag himself,
at a quarter-past twelve--just forty-three minutes after the action
commenced. Almost immediately both the Frolic’s masts went by the board.

Of her crew not twenty men escaped unhurt. Every officer was wounded
and two were killed. Her total loss was thus over ninety, about thirty
of whom were killed outright or died of wounds.

The Wasp suffered severely in her rigging and aloft generally, but only
two or three shots struck her hull. Five of her men were killed--two in
her mizzen-top, and one in her main-top-mast rigging, and five were
wounded, chiefly aloft.

The two vessels were practically of equal force. The loss of the
Frolic’s main-yard had converted her into a brigantine, and as the
roughness of the sea made it necessary to fight under very short
canvas, her inferiority in men was fully compensated for by her
superiority in metal. She had been desperately defended; no men could
have fought more bravely than Captain Whinyates and his crew. On the
other hand, the Americans had done their work with a coolness and
skill that could not be surpassed. The contest had been mainly one of
gunnery, and had been decided by the greatly superior judgment and
accuracy with which they fired. Both officers and crew had behaved well.

The French Vice-Admiral Jurien de la Gravière, commenting on this
action, says: “The American fire showed itself to be as accurate as it
was rapid. On occasions, when the roughness of the seas would seem to
render all aim excessively uncertain, the effects of their artillery
were not less murderous than under more advantageous conditions. The
corvette Wasp fought the brig Frolic in an enormous sea, under very
short canvas, and yet, forty minutes after the beginning of the action,
the Americans who leaped on board the brig found on the deck, covered
with dead and dying, but one brave man, who had not left the wheel, and
three officers, all wounded, etc., etc.”

The characteristics of the action are the practical equality of the
contestants in point of force, and the enormous disparity in the damage
each suffered. Numerically the Wasp was superior by five per cent., and
inflicted a ninefold greater loss.

Captain Jones was not destined to bring his prize into port, for a
few hours afterward the Poictiers, a British 74, hove in sight. Now
appeared the value of the Frolic’s desperate defence; if she could not
prevent herself from being captured, she had at least ensured her own
recapture, and also the capture of her foe. When the Wasp made sail
they were found to be cut into ribbons, and she could not make off with
sufficient speed. The Poictiers soon overtook her, and carried both
vessels into Bermuda. Captain Jones and his officers and men were soon
exchanged, and Congress voted them prize money for their capture; while
the Captain and Lieutenant Biddle were both deservedly promoted.

CONSTITUTION. A.D. 1812.

After the declaration of war with England, on the 18th of June, 1812,
Vice-Admiral Sawyer, of the British Navy, prepared a squadron at
Halifax, and dispatched it, on July 5th, to cruise against the United
States. This squadron was commanded by Captain Broke, of the Shannon,
38, an officer of great merit and experience, who had under him the
Belvidera, 36, Captain Byron, another excellent officer, the Africa,
64, and the Æolus, 32.

On the 9th of July, off Nantucket, they were joined by the Guerrière,
38, Captain Dacres. This squadron, on the 16th, fell in with and
captured the United States brig Nautilus, 14, which, like all the brigs
of that day, was overloaded with men and guns; she threw her guns
overboard, and made use of every expedient to escape, but with no avail.

At 3 P. M. on the following day, when the British squadron was off
Barnegat, and about twelve miles from the shore, a strange sail was
seen in the southeast, or windward quarter, standing to the northeast.
This vessel was the United States frigate Constitution, 44, Captain
Isaac Hull. When the war broke out he was in the Chesapeake, engaged in
getting a new crew. Having on board about four hundred and fifty souls,
he sailed on the 12th of July. His crew was entirely new, drafts
of men coming on board up to the last moment. Hull wrote, just before
sailing, that “the crew are as yet unacquainted with a ship-of-war,
as many have but lately joined and have never been on an armed ship
before. We are doing all that we can to make them acquainted with
their duty, and in a few days we shall have nothing to fear from any
single-decked ship.” On the 17th, at 2 P. M., Hull discovered four sail
to the northward, heading to the westward. An hour after, the wind
being very light, the Constitution made more sail, and tacked ship,
being in eighteen and a-half fathoms. At four P. M. the Constitution
discovered a fifth sail, which was the Guerrière. At about six o’clock
the wind shifted and blew lightly from the south, bringing the American
ship to windward, and she immediately wore, with her head to the
eastward, set studding-sails and stay-sails, and at half-past seven
beat to quarters, intending to speak the nearest vessel, the Guerrière.
The two frigates neared each other gradually, and the Constitution, at
ten P. M., began making signals. These were not answered, and the two
frigates gradually drew near each other; the Guerrière discovered, on
her lee beam, the other British vessels, and signalled to them.

[Illustration: CAPTURE OF THE GUERRIÈRE BY THE CONSTITUTION.]

They did not answer the signals, thinking she must know who
they were--a circumstance which afterwards gave rise to sharp
recriminations. Dacres, concluding them to be Commodore Rodgers’
American squadron, tacked, and stood away from the Constitution for
some time before discovering his mistake.

The next morning, soon after daylight, Hull had just enough
steerage-way to keep the Constitution’s head to the east, on the
starboard tack. On his lee quarter, bearing northeast by north, were
the Belvidera and Guerrière, and astern the Shannon, Æolus, and
Africa. At half-past five in the morning it fell dead calm, and Hull
called away his boats, to tow the ship to the southward. At the same
time he got two long guns aft, and cut away the taffrail, to give them
more room to work; while he ran out of the cabin windows two of the
long main-deck 24’s.

By this time the British had followed his example, and had their
boats out to tow. Soon, however, a light breeze sprang up, and the
Constitution set all studding-sails and stay-sails. At this time the
Shannon opened upon her with her bow-guns, but ceased when she found
she did not reach the American ship. By half-past six in the morning
the light breeze had died away again, and the Shannon began to gain on
the Constitution, in consequence of most of the boats of the British
squadron being set to tow her. Just then the Constitution sounded in
twenty-six fathoms, and Lieut. Charles Morris suggested to Captain Hull
to try kedging. This was adopted, and all the spare rope bent on to the
kedges, paid out into the cutters, and then one kedge run out half a
mile ahead and let go. The crew then clapped on and walked the ship up
to the kedge--over-running and tripping it as she came to the end of
the line. Meanwhile, the other kedge and lines were carried out; and
the ship thus glided away from her pursuers.

At half-past seven A. M. a little breeze sprang up, and the
Constitution then set her ensign and fired a shot at the Shannon--the
first shot of this remarkable chase. It soon fell calm again, and the
Shannon began to near. This was a critical time, for, if the Shannon
got close enough to disable in the slightest degree the spars of the
American frigate, she must inevitably be captured. But about nine
o’clock an air from the southward struck the Constitution, bringing
her to windward. The breeze was seen, freshening the glassy surface
of the sea, her sails were trimmed, and as soon as possible she was
brought close upon the port tack. The boats which were engaged in
kedging dropped alongside; those which belonged to the davits were run
up, and the others lifted clear of the water by purchases from the
chains and spare spars, so that they could be used again at a moment’s
notice. The Guerrière, on her lee beam, now opened fire, but, as it
fell short, Hull paid no attention to it. Again, to Hull’s vexation,
it fell calm--it was, indeed, just such a summer’s day as is often
seen off the Jersey coast, when it seems as if the wind had died out
forever--and he started two thousand gallons of water, and once more
lowered his boats to tow; having to use great exertion to keep the
Shannon, which had most of the boats of the squadron, from gaining
on her. Again a breath of air ruffled the water, and this time the
Belvidera gained on the other British ships, and their boats were all
put on to tow her. (Cooper says that this ship was the Shannon still,
but Roosevelt, a very careful writer, says it was the Belvidera.)
Captain Byron, of this ship, observing how the Constitution crept away
from them by warping, did the same thing; and he even improved upon
the operation by working two kedge anchors at the same time-paying the
warp out of one hawse hole as it was run in through the other. Having
men from the other English ships on board, and a lighter ship to work,
he gradually gained upon the Constitution. Hull fully expected to be
overtaken, but he made all his arrangements to endeavor to disable the
first frigate before her consorts could come up. The English frigates,
on the other hand, were deterred from coming very close, for fear of
having their boats sunk by the American frigate’s stern-chasers.

The Constitution’s crew worked splendidly. Officers and men regularly
relieved each other in the exhausting labor, the officers lying down
on deck for a short rest, and the men sleeping at their guns. The
Constitution rather gained, but the situation continued critical. The
British ships continued towing and kedging, barely out of gun-shot,
all the afternoon, the few light puffs of air being carefully watched,
and made the most of by both sides. At seven in the evening, it
being dead calm again, the towing and kedging was renewed, the men
being much worn by their continued exertions. But partial breezes
during the night gave them some rest, and at daylight the Belvidera
was off the Constitution’s lee beam, with a light breeze from the
southeast. The Æolus was also well up, but the wind now freshened,
and the Constitution and the English frigates were soon running off
on the starboard tack, with every stitch of sail set. The Africa was
so far to leeward as to be out of the race. At nine in the morning an
American merchant ship hove in sight, and came down toward the English
squadron. The Belvidera hoisted the American colors, as a decoy, but
the Constitution immediately hoisted the British flag, and the merchant
vessel hauled off. At noon Hull found he had dropped all the British
ships. The Belvidera was the nearest, being in his wake, and at least
two miles and a-half off. The Shannon was to leeward, and much further
off; and the others were five miles off, on the lee quarter. The breeze
freshened, and the Constitution’s sails being watched and trimmed with
consummate skill, she continued to draw away from her pursuers, so
that at daylight the next morning the nearest was four miles astern.
Soon after there were indications of a heavy thunder squall, and the
indefatigable Hull again had an opportunity to show that he excelled
in seamanship even the able English captains who were pitted against
him. The crew of the Constitution went to their stations for working
ship, and everything was kept fast until the last moment. Just before
the squall struck the ship sail was handsomely reduced; but as soon
as Hull got the weight of the wind he sheeted home, set his fore and
main top-gallant-sails, and was off on an easy bowline, at the rate
of eleven knots an hour. The British vessels, seeing him reduce sail,
began to let go, clew up and haul down, without waiting for the wind,
and were steering on different tacks when the first gust struck them.

When the squall passed over the Belvidera had fallen much astern, and
to leeward, while the other ships were nearly hull down. The wind now
fell light and baffling, but Hull had the sails continually wet down,
and continued to draw away from his pertinacious pursuers, so that
on the morning of the 20th, being almost out of sight astern, they
abandoned the chase. On July 26th the Constitution reached Boston.

“In this chase Hull was matched against five British captains, two
of whom, Broke and Byron, were fully equal to any in their navy; and
while they showed great perseverance, good seamanship, and ready
imitation, there can be no doubt that the palm in every way belongs to
the cool old Yankee. Every daring expedient known to the most perfect
seamanship was tried, and tried with success; and no victorious fight
could reflect more credit on the conqueror than this three days’ chase
did on Hull. Later, on two occasions, the Constitution proved herself
far superior in gunnery to the average British frigate; this time her
officers and men showed that they could handle the sails as well as
they could the guns. Hull out-manœuvred Broke and Byron as cleverly
as, a month later, he out-fought Dacres. His successful escape and
victorious fight were both performed in a way that place him above any
single-ship captain of the war.”

Hull left Boston, in the Constitution, on August 2d, and stood off to
the eastward. Falling in with nothing, she took a turn to the Bay of
Fundy, the coast of Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland, and finally, took
up a station off Cape Race, where she took two brigs. As they were of
small value, Hull burned them. On the 15th of August she re-captured an
American brig from the British ship-sloop Avenger. The latter escaped,
but Hull manned his prize, and sent her in. Soon after this he spoke
a Salem privateer, which gave him information of a British frigate
cruising to the southward. He made sail in that direction, and at 2 P.
M. of August 19th, in latitude 41° 30′ north, and 55° west, he made out
a large sail to the east-southeast, and to leeward, which proved to be
his old acquaintance, the frigate Guerrière, Captain Dacres.

It was a cloudy day, and the wind was blowing fresh from the northwest.
The Guerrière was by the wind, on the starboard tack, under easy
canvas. She hauled up her courses, took in her top-gallant-sails, and
at half-past four backed her main-top-sail, to wait for her enemy. Hull
then began to shorten sail, taking in top-gallant-sails, stay-sails,
and flying jib, sending down his royal-yards, and placing a reef in his
top-sails. The English ship then hoisted three ensigns, upon which Hull
set his colors, one at each masthead, and one at the mizzen-peak.

The Constitution was running down with the wind nearly aft. The
Guerrière was on the starboard tack, and at five o’clock opened with
her weather guns, but the shot fell short. She then wore round, and
fired her port broadside, of which two shot struck the Constitution,
the rest passing over and through her rigging. As the British frigate
again wore, to open with her starboard battery, the Constitution
yawed a little, and fired two or three of her bow guns. The Guerrière
repeated her manœuvre three or four times, wearing and firing alternate
broadsides, but with little or no effect, while the Constitution
each time yawed, to prevent being raked, and occasionally she fired
one of her bow guns. This continued for nearly an hour, as the ships
were very far apart when the action commenced, and hardly any loss
or damage was as yet inflicted by either party. At six the Guerrière
bore up, and ran off, under her top-sails and jib, with the wind
astern, or a little on the port quarter; when the Constitution set
her main-top-gallant-sail and foresail, and in a few minutes closed
within less than pistol shot, on her adversary’s port beam. A furious
cannonade now ensued, each ship firing as her guns bore. At twenty
minutes past six the ships were fairly abreast, and the Constitution
shot away the Guerrière’s mizzen-mast, which fell over her starboard
quarter, knocking a large hole in her counter, and bringing the ship
round against her helm. Hitherto the English vessel had suffered very
greatly, and the Constitution scarcely at all. The latter, finding that
she was ranging ahead, put her helm aport, and luffed short round her
enemy’s bows, delivering a heavy raking fire with her starboard guns,
and shooting away the Guerrière’s main-yard. Then she wore, and again
passed her enemy’s bows, raking the Guerrière with her port battery.
The Guerrière’s mizzen-mast, dragging in the water, had by this time
pulled her bow round till the wind came on her starboard quarter; and
so near were the two ships that the Englishman’s bowsprit passed
diagonally over the Constitution’s quarterdeck, and as the latter ship
fell off, it got foul of her mizzen rigging, so that the ships lay with
the Guerrière’s starboard bow against the Constitution’s port, or lee
quarter-gallery.

The bow guns of the English frigate now made great havoc in Captain
Hull’s cabin, which was set on fire by the close discharges, but the
flames were soon extinguished. Both sides now called away boarders,
and the British crew ran forward on their forecastle, but Captain
Dacres gave up the idea of boarding when he saw the crowds of men on
the American’s decks. The Constitution’s boarders and marines had
gathered aft, but such a heavy sea was running that they could not
gain the Guerrière’s forecastle. A close musketry fire was now kept
up, and almost the entire loss of the Constitution occurred at this
time. Lieutenant Bush, of that ship’s marines, sprang on the taffrail,
to board, and was shot dead. Mr. Morris, the First Lieutenant, and the
Master, Mr. Alwyn, both of whom had leaped upon the taffrail, to head
the boarders, were wounded at this time, by musketry. The Guerrière
suffered still more; most of the men on her forecastle being killed
or wounded. Captain Dacres himself was wounded, by a musket ball from
the Constitution’s mizzen-top, while he was standing on the hammocks,
cheering on his crew. Two of his Lieutenants and his Master were
also shot down. Lying thus, the ships gradually worked round till
the wind was once more on the port quarter, when they separated, and
the Guerrière’s fore and main-masts both went over the side at once,
falling on the starboard side, leaving her a sheer hulk, rolling her
main-deck guns into the water. It was now half-past six, and the
Constitution boarded her tacks, ran off a little way to the eastward,
and lay to. A few minutes were now occupied in splicing and reeving
new running rigging, which had been much cut.

Captain Hull then stood down under his adversary’s lee, and the
latter immediately struck. It was then just seven P. M., and exactly
two hours from the time the first shot was fired. On the part of the
Constitution, however, the actual fighting, exclusive of the six or
eight guns fired during the first hour, while closing, occupied less
than thirty minutes.

This account of the action is taken from Roosevelt, and we shall
proceed to make some extracts from his judicious remarks upon the
battle.

The Constitution had on board four hundred and fifty-six men, while
of the Guerrière’s crew, two hundred and sixty-seven prisoners were
received on board the Constitution. Deducting ten Americans who would
not fight, and adding fifteen killed outright, we get two hundred and
seventy-two. Twenty-eight of her crew were absent in prizes.

The loss of the Constitution was seven killed and seven wounded, and
almost all this loss occurred from musketry, while the ships were foul.

The Guerrière lost twenty-three killed and fifty-six wounded.
Roosevelt thus sums up: Constitution, 1576 tons; comparative force one
hundred; comparative loss inflicted one hundred. Guerrière, 1338 tons;
comparative force seventy; comparative loss inflicted eighteen.

The Third Lieutenant of the Constitution was sent on board the prize,
and the American frigate lay by her during the night. At daylight she
was found to be in danger of sinking, and Captain Hull at once began
removing the prisoners; and at three o’clock in the afternoon set the
Guerrière on fire, when she very shortly blew up.

He then made sail for Boston, where he arrived on the 30th of August.

“Captain Hull and his officers,” writes Captain Dacres, in his official
letter, “have treated us like brave and generous enemies; the greatest
care has been taken that we should not lose the smallest trifle.”

The British journals and naval historians laid very great stress on the
rotten and decayed condition of the Guerrière; mentioning particularly
that the main-mast fell solely because of the weight of the falling
fore-mast. But until the action took place she was considered a very
fine ship. Dacres declared, some time before, that she could take a
ship in half the time the Shannon could. The fall of her main-mast
occurred when the fight was practically over; it had no influence
whatever on the conflict. “It was also asserted that the Guerrière’s
powder was bad; but on no authority. Her first broadside fell short;
* * * * but none of these causes account for the fact that her shot
did not hit. Her opponent was of such superior force--nearly in the
proportion of three to two--that success would have been very difficult
in any event, and no one can doubt the gallantry and pluck with which
the British ship was fought; but the execution was very greatly
disproportioned to the force.

The gunnery of the Guerrière was very poor, and that of the
Constitution excellent. During the few minutes the ships were yard-arm
and yard-arm, the latter was not hulled once, while no less than thirty
of her shot took effect on the Guerrière’s engaged side, underneath
the waterline. The Guerrière, moreover, was out-manœuvred. Lord Howard
Douglass says, “in wearing several times and exchanging broadsides
in such rapid and continual changes of position, her fire was much
more harmless than it would have been if she had kept more steady.”
The Constitution was faultlessly handled. Captain Hull displayed the
coolness and skill of a veteran, in the way in which he managed, first
to avoid being raked, and then to improve the advantage which the
precision and rapidity of his fire had gained.

Cooper says, “After making every allowance claimed by the enemy, the
character of this victory is not essentially altered. Its peculiarities
were a fine display of seamanship in the approach, extraordinary
efficiency in the attack, and great readiness in repairing damages; all
of which denote cool and capable officers, with an expert and trained
crew; in a word, a disciplined man-of-war.” The disparity of force, 10
to 7, is not enough to account for the disparity of execution, 10 to
2. Of course, something must be allowed for the decayed state of the
Englishman’s masts, although it probably had not any real influence
upon the battle, for he was beaten when the main-mast fell. It must be
remembered, on the other hand, that the American crew were absolutely
new, and unaccustomed to a fighting ship, while the Guerrière was
manned by old hands. So that, while admitting and admiring the
gallantry, and, on the whole, the seamanship, of Captain Dacres and his
crew, and acknowledging that he fought at a disadvantage, especially
in being short-handed, yet it must be acknowledged that the combat
showed a marked superiority, particularly in gunnery, on the part of
the Americans. Had the ships not come foul, Captain Hull would probably
not have lost more than three or four men; as it was, he suffered but
slightly. That the Guerrière was not so weak as she was represented to
be, can be gathered from the fact that she mounted two more main-deck
guns than the rest of her class; thus carrying on her main-deck 30
long 18-pounders in battery, to oppose to the 30 long 24’s, or rather
(allowing for the short weight of shot), long 22’s of the Constitution.

“Characteristically enough, James, though he carefully reckons in the
long bow-chasers in the bridle-ports of the Argus and Enterprise,
yet refuses to count the two long eighteens mounted through the
bridle-ports on the Guerrière’s main-deck. Now, as it turned out, these
two bow-guns were used very effectively when the ships got foul, and
caused more damage and loss than all of the other main-deck guns put
together.”

Captain Dacres, very much to his credit, allowed the ten Americans
he had on board to go below, so as not to fight against their flag,
and, upon his court-martial, stated that “he was very much weakened by
permitting the Americans on board to quit their quarters.” “Coupling
this with the assertion made by James, and most other British writers,
that the Constitution was largely manned by Englishmen, we reach the
somewhat remarkable conclusion, that the British ship was defeated
because the Americans on board would _not_ fight against their country,
and that the American was victorious because the British on board
_would_.”

[Illustration]

[Illustration: PERRY’S VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE.]

LAKE ERIE. 10TH SEPTEMBER, 1813.

“September the tenth, full well I ween
In eighteen hundred and thirteen;
The weather mild, the sky serene;
Commanded by bold Perry,
Our saucy fleet at anchor lay
In safety, moored at Put-in-Bay.
’Twixt sunrise and the break of day
The British fleet
We chanced to meet;
Our Admiral thought he would them greet
With a welcome on Lake Erie”

* * * * *

“Bold Barclay one day to Proctor did say,
I’m tired of Jamaica and sherry;
So let us go down to that new floating town,
And get some American Perry;
Oh! cheap American Perry!
Most pleasant American Perry!
We need only bear down, knock, and call,
And we’ll have the American Perry.”

A recent and judicious writer, Theodore Roosevelt, in his “Naval War
of 1812,” says, “The victory of Lake Erie was most important, both
in its material results and in its moral effect. It gave us complete
command of all the upper lakes, prevented any fear of invasion from
that quarter, increased our prestige with the foe, and our confidence
in ourselves, and ensured the conquest of upper Canada; in all these
respects its importance has not been overrated. But the ‘glory’
acquired by it most certainly _has_ been estimated at more than its
worth. Most Americans, even the well educated, if asked which was the
most glorious victory of the war, would point to this battle. Captain
Perry’s name is more widely known than that of any other commander in
the war. Every school-boy reads about _him_; * * * * yet he certainly
stands on a lower grade than either McDonough or Hull, and not a bit
higher than a dozen others * * * * The courage with which the Lawrence
was defended has hardly ever been surpassed, and may fairly be called
heroic; but equal praise belongs to the men on board the Detroit, who
had to discharge the great guns by flashing pistols at the touch-holes,
and yet made such a terribly effective defence.

“Courage is only one of the many elements which go to make up the
character of a first-class commander; something more than bravery is
needed before a leader can really be called great.”

“Captain Barclay handled his ships like a first-rate seaman. It was
impossible to arrange them so as to be superior to his antagonist,
for the latter’s force was of such a nature that in smooth water his
gunboats gave him a great advantage. In short, our victory was due to
our heavy metal.”

“Captain Perry showed indomitable pluck, and readiness to adapt himself
to circumstances; but his claim to fame rests much less on his actual
victory than on the way in which he prepared the fleet that was to win
it. Here his energy and activity deserve all praise, not only for the
success in collecting sailors and vessels, and in building the two
brigs, but, above all, for the manner in which he succeeded in getting
them out on the lake. On _that_ occasion he certainly out-generaled
Barclay; indeed, the latter committed an error that the skill and
address he subsequently showed could not retrieve.

“But it will always be a source of surprise that the American public
should have so glorified Perry’s victory over an inferior force, and
have paid comparatively little attention to McDonough’s victory, which
really was won against decided odds in ships, men, and metal. There
are always those who consider it unpatriotic to tell the truth, if the
truth is not very flattering.”

“Lake Erie teaches us the advantage of having the odds on our side;
Lake Champlain, that, even if they are not, skill can soon counteract
them.”

Oliver Hazard Perry, who derives his fame from this action, was born
in Rhode Island, and entered the navy in 1799; seeing a good deal of
varied service. About the time that war with England became imminent
he was promoted to the rank of Master Commandant, and was in command
of a flotilla of gunboats in Newport and in Long Island Sound. The
employment was not congenial to Perry, as he longed for a chance to
distinguish himself by some great action; and he saw others promoted,
while he remained stationary. Failing to get command of a cruising
ship, he applied for service upon the lakes.

At last, in February, 1813, Commodore Chauncey obtained for him a
command on Lake Erie; where he was to build two heavy brigs of war,
to meet the force preparing by the enemy. These vessels were of 500
tons each, to carry each twenty guns; such was the emergency, that the
planks of which they were built were often cut and put in the vessel on
the same day. Ship-wrights and blockmakers, with their tools; canvas,
and ordnance, were sent five hundred miles, through a half settled
country, to finish and fit out these brigs.

While they were building Perry went over from Erie, by small boat and
on horseback, and participated in the attack upon Fort George.

The British soon evacuated the whole Niagara frontier, and some
American vessels which they had detained at Black Rock were then towed
up, by oxen and soldiers, against the strong current of the Niagara,
into Lake Erie. There were five of them, and they safely reached Erie,
where the squadron was fitting out.

The enemy, having some years before begun the creation of a naval force
on Lake Erie, had then complete control of that sheet of water, and a
vastly superior force to that which Perry was taking to Erie. Great
address and vigilance were required to get the little squadron there
safely, and, although narrowly watched, with head winds, and himself
ill, he got safely into Erie just as the British squadron hove in
sight. Many of Perry’s best men were ill at this time, principally from
malarial causes, but the work was pushed on incessantly.

When completed, the different vessels of his squadron were very
unequally manned; and the great want of seamen led to a great deal of
correspondence and trouble, not necessary to be gone into at this late
day. Of all the vessels, the Niagara is said to have had the best crew.

Perry at last got his squadron out into the lake, after lifting the
heavy vessels over the bar at Erie with “camels”--a very difficult
operation.

The weather and the drinking water had seriously affected a large
number of his not too numerous force, but he went on, as if convinced
of success.

On the 31st of August, at Put-in Bay, Perry received from General
Harrison a reinforcement of one hundred men, which, after deducting
deaths and disabilities, carried the total of his muster-roll to four
hundred and ninety officers and men. Some of the men received from
Harrison were boatmen, but the major part were to serve as marines.
They came from the Kentucky militia, and from the 28th Regular
regiment, and were all volunteers for this duty.

At this time the enemy did not seem disposed to accept battle in the
open lake.

On September 4th Perry sent the Ohio to Erie, for provisions and
stores, with orders to hasten back; and the next day--the squadron
being then in Sandusky Bay--three citizens arrived from Malden, and
informed Perry that the British army under General Proctor being short
of provisions, it had been determined that the English squadron should
sail, and engage our’s, and endeavor to open communication with Long
Point, so as to draw the necessary supplies from that place. Perry at
this time also received more accurate information as to the enemy’s
force.

This consisted of the Detroit, a new and strongly built ship of 500
tons and 17 guns--all long, except two 24-pound carronades; the ship
Queen Charlotte, of 400 tons and 17 guns--three of them long. These
two ships had each a long gun on a pivot. Then came the schooner Lady
Prevost, of 13 guns--three of them long; the brig Hunter, of 10 guns;
the sloop Little Belt, of two long 12s and one 18-pounder; and the
schooner Chippewa, with one long 18.

This made sixty-three guns; twenty-five of which were long.

This squadron was commanded by Captain Robert Heriot Barclay, of the
Royal Navy, a veteran officer, who had served with distinction in
several engagements which had raised the flag of England to the first
place on the ocean; who had been at Trafalgar, with Nelson, and
dangerously wounded in that battle. More recently, as First Lieutenant
of a frigate, he had lost an arm in action with the French. He was a
man not only of approved courage, but a skillful seaman. The second in
command was Captain Finnis, also a brave and experienced officer--with
others of excellent standing.

Barclay had recently received a draft of men from the English ships at
Quebec, and had one hundred and fifty men of the Royal Navy, eighty
Canadian lake sailors, and two hundred and forty soldiers from the 41st
regiment-of-the-line, and the Newfoundland Rangers; making, by their
own account, four hundred and seventy seamen and soldiers, to which
must be added thirty-two officers, making five hundred and two souls.

The American vessels were the Lawrence, Captain Perry; the Niagara,
Captain Elliott, each of twenty guns; the Caledonia, 3, Purser McGrath;
the Ariel, 4, Lieutenant Packett; the Trippe, 1, Lieutenant Smith; the
Tigress, 1, Lieutenant Conklin; the Somers, 2, Mr. Almy; the Scorpion,
2, Mr. Champlin; the Ohio, 1, Mr. Dobbins; and the Porcupine, 1, Mr.
Senatt.

Of the American vessels, mounting altogether fifty-five guns, only the
brigs Lawrence and Niagara could be considered men-of-war. The others
were exceedingly frail, and had no bulwarks, and the carronades of the
Americans, although heavy, rendered close action necessary.

On the receipt of the intelligence of Barclay’s movements, Perry sailed
from Sandusky, and, on September 6th, reconnoitred the enemy off
Malden, and seeing him still at his moorings, returned to Put-in Bay,
which place afforded every facility for observing his movements. Here
the last preparations for battle were made, and the last instructions
given; the officers being summoned on board the Lawrence for that
purpose.

Perry had had a battle flag prepared, a blue field, bearing, in large
white letters, “Don’t give up the ship,” the dying words of the hero
whose name the flag-ship bore. The hoisting of this at the main truck
was to be the signal for battle.

The young Commander had made every preparation he could, and his men
had become thoroughly familiar with the guns; but a large sick-list was
a great drawback. On the morning of the battle there were one hundred
and sixteen sick; but many of these went to their quarters. All the
medical officers were ill except Assistant Surgeon Usher Parsons, who
had to attend to all the vessels.

At sunrise, on September 10th, the British squadron was discovered from
the mast-head, bearing northwest and standing for Put-in Bay.

Barclay had a clear passage to Long Point, and he could have avoided
Perry, but he came out to fight, and bore down to engage, with a long
day before him in which to fight a battle; coming, indeed, more than
half-way to meet his enemy on his own coast. This sets at rest any
pretence that the English really felt themselves inferior in force--as
has been alleged by British and other writers. The gallant Barclay made
no such statement in his Court, after his return to England.

As soon as the British squadron was reported, the Americans got under
way, and beat out of the harbor, against a light breeze from southwest;
sometimes towing with the boats. Some islands of the Bass group
interposed between our squadron and that of the enemy, and some hours
passed in this work--the wind being light and baffling. About 10 A. M.
Perry determined to wear ship, and run to leeward of the islands. His
Sailing Master remarked that this would force them to engage the enemy
from to leeward. Perry exclaimed, “I don’t care! To windward or to
leeward, they shall fight to-day!”

The wind shifted suddenly, just then, to southeast, and enabled
Perry to clear the islands, and retain the weather-gage. If he had
surrendered this he would have enabled the enemy to choose his distance
for his long guns, and rendered his own carronades less effective.
But the lee-gage had some advantages also; and Perry was a seaman,
understood the situation, and was determined to fight. At 10 A. M. the
Lawrence cleared for action. The shot racks were filled, as were the
rope grummets; the men buckled on their cutlasses and pistols; matches
were lit; preventer braces rove; the decks were wet and sanded, to
prevent explosion of scattered powder, and to afford secure footing
when the planks should become slippery with blood.

The enemy hove to, in line of battle, on the port tack, with their
vessels’ heads to the southward and westward.

The Americans approached at the rate of not more than three miles an
hour, with fine weather and smooth water. There had been an early
shower, after which it was a beautiful day.

The British vessels were all fresh painted, and their rigging tarred
down; and being hove to in close order, with the morning sun shining
upon their broadsides, and the red ensigns floating above them, they
had a warlike and imposing appearance.

Our squadron bore down to engage, with the wind upon the port quarter,
and it was seen that the Chippewa was in the enemy’s van; then the
Detroit; the Hunter third; Queen Charlotte fourth; Lady Prevost fifth;
and Little Belt in the rear.

Upon discovering this arrangement of the enemy’s vessels, Perry
re-modelled his line-of-battle, so as to bring his heaviest vessels
opposite their designated antagonists. When the line was reformed he
bore up again, the interval between the squadrons being then about six
miles.

He now produced his battle flag, and, mounting a gun-slide, asked, “My
brave lads! This flag contains the last words of Captain Lawrence!
Shall I hoist it?” “Ay, ay, Sir!”--and it was at once sent aloft.

The other vessels welcomed its appearance with three cheers; and
at this time many of the sick came up and volunteered for duty,
stimulated, by their patriotic feelings, to temporary ability. As the
ordinary dinner-time (always held as sacred to the men of the navy as
possible) would find them engaged, the noon-day grog and bread was now
served out, and after that was disposed of, every one went quietly to
his quarters. Perry carefully inspected each gun, and spoke to the
gun’s crew. Seeing some of the Constitution’s old crew, he said, “Well,
boys, are you ready?” The veterans simply touched their hats, and
replied, “All ready, your honor!” This was at that time the customary
mode of address to a commanding officer. Many of the men (as was the
fashion then, in their “hammer and tongs” kind of fighting) stripped to
the belt, retaining only their trowsers, and tying handkerchiefs round
their heads. Perry smiled, and said, “I need not say anything to you.
You know how to beat these fellows.” And then he spoke a few words to
his “Newport boys,” who had come with him from his own home--the sons
of neighbors. The words were quiet, few, and earnest.

Now ensued a weary waiting, and silence, for a long hour and a half, as
the squadron slowly approached the British line, under a light air;
the silence being only broken by an order, now and then, in a subdued
voice, or the ripple of the waters, as the ship divided them. This
inactivity before the crash of battle is always trying, and especially
so on board ship; and messages are then given to friends, and last
instructions of many kinds. Perry wrapped his public papers in lead, to
be thrown overboard in case of capture. He destroyed his private papers.

The long suspense was at last broken by the blast of a bugle, on
board the Detroit, and three cheers from the British line; and at a
quarter-before twelve the British flag-ship fired the first gun. It was
aimed at the Lawrence, and fell short. The Lawrence was in advance, for
some of the American vessels were dull sailers, and by this time much
out of line. The second shot from the Detroit’s long gun was fired five
minutes later, and took effect upon the Lawrence, as she slowly bore
down, in the lead. The English fire now began to be felt, and at this
time the distribution of our guns in small vessels gave advantage to
the heavy, concentrated broadsides of the enemy.

Owing to the English superiority in long guns (the entire armament of
the Detroit, with two exceptions, being of this description), their
fire soon became very destructive to the Lawrence, and there were no
other American vessels near enough to draw a part of it.

To hasten the moment when his carronades would take effect, and enable
him to return successfully the enemy’s fire. Perry made all sail again,
and passed the word, by trumpet, from vessel to vessel, along his line,
to close up and take station. They did not all do so at once, however,
and there was much trouble and recrimination afterwards, in regard to
the conduct of the Commander of one of them. Meanwhile the Lawrence
was suffering terribly, as she approached the enemy slowly. At noon
Perry luffed up, and fired his starboard guns; but finding they would
not reach, bore away again, and continued to draw nearer, very slowly,
until a quarter-past twelve, when he opened again with his whole
starboard broadside, continuing to approach until within about three
hundred and fifty yards, when he hauled up on a course parallel to that
of the enemy, and opened a most rapid and destructive fire upon the
Detroit. So steady had been the approach of the Lawrence, in bearing
down, and so unwavering the purpose of her Commander, that Barclay
had apprehended an intention to board. Perry’s object was only to get
within effective reach of his carronades. It required great coolness
and determination to effect this, under the fire of the English long
guns, as Perry was obliged to see his men killed, and his vessel cut
up, without being able to answer until within distance for close
action. Half an hour’s exposure of the Lawrence to the fire of twenty
long guns had caused great carnage and destruction on board of her.
Nevertheless, she now commenced to fire with spirit and effect; and,
notwithstanding great odds, from want of support--having thirty-four
guns almost entirely directed against her--she continued to reply, with
steady and unwavering effort. In this unequal contest she was soon
nobly sustained by the Scorpion and Ariel, which were on her weather
bow. These vessels, being small, and but slightly noticed by the enemy,
or injured by his shot, were enabled to direct their fire with sure
aim, and almost without interruption.

The Commander of the Caledonia, with the same sense of duty and
gallant spirit which animated Perry, followed the Lawrence into close
action as soon as possible, and closed with her designated antagonist,
the Hunter; but for some reason, which afterwards caused serious
imputations against her Commander, the Niagara, which, when the action
commenced had been within hail of the Lawrence, did not follow her down
towards the enemy’s line, so as to engage her proper antagonist, the
Queen Charlotte. This was a great interference with the order of battle
laid down by Perry, as the Captain of the Niagara failed to engage,
at short distance, the adversary his orders required him to meet.
The Queen Charlotte was thus enabled to contribute to a concentrated
fire upon the Lawrence; and the latter was forced to struggle against
unexpected odds.

Her first division of starboard guns was directed against the Detroit,
and the second against the Queen Charlotte--with an occasional shot
from her after gun at the Hunter, which lay on her quarter, and with
which the Caledonia continued to sustain a hot but unequal engagement.

The Scorpion and Ariel, from their station on the weather bow of the
Lawrence, were making every effort that their small force permitted.

The Niagara was by this time in a position which prevented her from
firing, except with her long gun, and at the sternmost English vessel.
The rest of the American vessels, all small, were then too far off for
their fire to have much effect.

With a force of thirty-four guns against her ten in battery, the
Lawrence kept up the battle--with the aid of the Scorpion, Ariel, and
Caledonia--for two hours. She fired with great spirit, and showed the
good training of the men at the guns, until, one by one, these guns
were disabled, and their crews killed or wounded. Her surgeon, in
speaking of the action, says they fired all this time as deliberately
as if at their ordinary exercise. By this time the Lawrence’s rigging
was almost completely shot away, sails torn to pieces, spars wounded
and falling, and the braces and bowlines cut, so as to render it
impossible to trim the yards and keep the vessel under control. If
the destruction was great aloft, on deck it was terrible. Some of the
best trained veteran English seamen had been firing at the Lawrence
for two hours, at close quarters, until only one gun remained on board
of her that could be fired. Her bulwarks were beaten in until round
and grape-shot passed through unopposed. The slaughter was almost
unexampled in naval battles. Of one hundred well men who had gone into
action, twenty-two were killed, and sixty-two wounded.

The killed were hastily removed out of the way of the guns, and the
wounded crowded together upon the berth-deck. It was impossible for
Dr. Parsons, the only medical officer fit for duty, to attend to such
a press of wounded. Bleeding arteries were hastily secured; shattered
limbs supported by splints, and those which were nearly severed by
cannon balls hastily removed.

Owing to the shallowness of the vessels necessary for lake navigation,
the wounded were all above the water line, and liable to be struck
again by balls passing through the vessel’s sides.

Midshipman Laub, while leaving the Surgeon, after having a tourniquet
put upon his arm, was struck by a cannon ball, which passed through his
chest.

A Narragansett Indian, named Charles Poughigh, was killed in like
manner, after his leg had been taken off.

Perry had a favorite dog on board, a spaniel, which had been put into
a state-room, below, to be out of the way. The confinement, the noise,
and the groans of the wounded, terrified the animal, and at each
broadside he howled fearfully. During the action a shot made a large
hole in the bulkhead of the room, and the dog thrust his head out,
yelping for release, in such a ludicrous manner that the wounded lying
about burst out laughing, in the midst of their suffering.

Perry kept up the fire from his single remaining carronade, although
he had to send down to the Surgeon for the men employed in moving the
wounded, to enable him to man this single gun.

At last the Captain himself, Purser Hambleton, and the Chaplain, Mr.
Breese, helped to serve that gun, until it too was disabled.

“Perry never seemed to lose heart, and kept up the courage and
enthusiasm of those about him by his undaunted bearing. Calm and cool,
his orders were issued with precision, and obeyed with steady alacrity,
in the midst of the surrounding carnage. Sometimes a single ball, or a
round of grape or canister, would kill or disable a whole gun’s crew;
but the survivors would exchange a glance with Perry, and then coolly
step into their shipmate’s stations. As long as he was spared they
seemed to think that triumph was secure; and they died cheerfully in
that belief.”

In the heat of the fight Yarnall, the First Lieutenant, came to Perry,
and told him that all the officers of the first division were either
killed or wounded. Yarnall was himself wounded in the forehead and
in the neck, and covered with blood, while his nose was dreadfully
swollen by a blow from a splinter. Perry good-humoredly expressed some
astonishment at his appearance, and sent him the desired aid. Soon
Yarnall returned, with the same story, and Perry then told him, “You
must make out by yourself; I have no more to furnish you.” Perry, even
at this critical time, could not help smiling at Yarnall’s appearance,
for, in addition to his disfigured nose, he was covered with down of
“cat-tails,” from the hammock mattresses which had been struck, and
which had adhered to the blood upon his face. Dr. Parsons describes him
as looking like a huge owl.

When he went below, after the action, even the wounded men laughed at
his hideous appearance, and one of them exclaimed, “The Devil has come
for his own.”

Another incident is characteristic of the calm cheerfulness of Perry
and his officers. Dulany Forrest, the Second Lieutenant (who died
a Commodore), was standing immediately beside Perry, fighting his
division, when a grape-shot struck him in the breast, and he fell.
Perry raised him, and seeing no wound, for it was a spent shot, told
him to rally, for he could not be hurt.

The Lieutenant, who was only stunned, soon recovered consciousness, and
pulling out the shot, which had lodged in his waistcoat, said, “No,
Sir! I’m not hurt, but this is my shot.”

More than one man was shot down while actually speaking to Perry.
One of these was the Captain of a gun, whose tackle had been shot
away. Perry advanced to see what was the matter. The sailor, an “old
Constitution,” said, “I can fire, Sir,” and was in the act of doing so,
when a twenty-four pound shot passed through his body, and he fell at
Perry’s feet.

Another incident illustrates the carnage on board the Lawrence. An
excellent young officer, Lieutenant John Brooks, commanded the marines.
He was remarkable for his good looks and amiable disposition. While
speaking to Perry, he was struck on the thigh by a cannon ball, and
carried some distance. He shrieked with pain, and implored Perry to
shoot him--so great were his sufferings. Perry ordered him to be taken
below, and as this was being done, his servant, a mulatto boy, rolled
upon the deck, crying out that his master was killed, but at an order
returned to his duty as powder boy, the tears running down his face all
the time, at the thought of his master’s suffering.

Perry’s brother, a mere youth, had several shots through his clothes
and hat, and was knocked down by a hammock torn from the nettings by a
ball, but escaped unscratched.

At 2.30 P. M. the last gun of the Lawrence had been disabled, and only
eighteen persons of those on board remained unwounded, beside Perry
himself and his young brother.

It now became necessary for him to go on board some other vessel.
The Niagara, as we have said, had kept well to windward, and had
remained out of reach of her proper opponent, the Queen Charlotte,
while the Caledonia had borne down to the relief of the Lawrence, and
had suffered much. The Lawrence’s men had bitterly commented upon the
manner in which the Niagara had kept aloof, when they were suffering
so severely. As the last gun of the Lawrence became disabled, and the
vessel, now an unmanageable wreck, was dropping astern, the Niagara
was seen to be upon her port beam, while the Caledonia was passing the
Lawrence’s starboard beam, between that disabled ship and the enemy.

Perry at once ordered his boat, saying that he would bring the Niagara
up; and adding that she did not seem much injured, and that the
American flag should not be hauled down that day, over _his_ head. He
left the command of the Lawrence to Mr. Yarnall, and stepped down into
the boat, calling to Yarnall, as he shoved off, “If a victory is to be
gained, I’ll gain it.”

When he left the Lawrence the Niagara was passing her weather, or port
beam, “at a distance of nearly half a mile.” The breeze had freshened,
her main-top-sail filled, and she was passing the British squadron
rapidly. Standing erect in his boat, Perry pulled for the Niagara,
anxious to get a fresh battery in action; being conscious that he had
already much damaged the enemy.

The latter, seeing his movements, soon penetrated his design; and,
apprehending the consequences of Perry’s getting on board a fresh
vessel--after the proof he had given them of his tenacity and fighting
powers--immediately opened on the boat a fire of great guns and
musketry, trying to destroy the boat and crew. Several oars were
splintered, the boat traversed by musket balls, and the crew wet
through with the spray thrown up by round shot and grape, that tore up
the water on every side.

Perry, unmindful of danger, continued to stand erect, although his
boat’s crew besought him to sit down. At last he did so, and the crew
pulled with a will; but the breeze was now quite fresh, and it took him
fifteen minutes to reach the Niagara.

His passage was, of course, watched with breathless interest by both
sides, as so much depended upon it. As they saw him cross the gangway
of the Niagara, the little group of unwounded men left on board the
Lawrence gave three hearty cheers. These survivors now took heart, and
felt that they had not sustained the long and bloody contest in vain.

As the Lawrence’s colors were still flying, she remained a mark for
the enemy’s shot, although unable to reply. To save further loss of
life, Lieutenant Yarnall, after consultation with others, determined
to surrender, and the colors were hauled down, amid cheers from the
British vessels, which manned their bulwarks, while the men waved a
triumphant defiance. But their triumph was short-lived. The first act
of the play was over, with partial success remaining to the British;
the second was now to begin, and to terminate less favorably for them.

On the berth-deck of the Lawrence the scene was at this time
deplorable. Great despondency prevailed among the wounded, who shouted
to those on deck to sink the ship rather than she should become
a prize. Brooks was dying. Purser Hambleton lay with a shattered
shoulder, received in working the last gun with his Commander. The
single medical officer was hard at work, among the cries and groans of
the wounded.

But there was the reaction of hope and joy when the word was passed
that Perry had safely reached the Niagara; and he soon gave the enemy
something else to do besides taking possession of the Lawrence.

Elliott, the Captain of the Niagara, met Perry with an inquiry as to
how the day was going. Perry said, “badly.” He had lost all his men,
and his ship was a wreck. He then asked Elliott what the gun-boats were
doing so far astern. Elliott offered to bring them up, and at once left
in a boat to do so, with Perry’s consent. Perry afterwards stated that
he found the Niagara uninjured in crew and hull; and that from the
moment he boarded her he felt confident of victory.

His first order, on boarding the Niagara, was to back the
main-top-sail, as she was running out of action. His next was to brail
up the main-try-sail, put the helm up, and bear down before the wind,
with squared yards, straight for the enemy; or, in other words, at a
right angle with the course he found her upon. At the same time he
set top-gallant-sails, and made signal for close action. The answering
signals were promptly displayed along the line, and greeted with hearty
cheers; as the bold manœuvre of the Niagara renewed the hopes of the
squadron.

At this time the Trippe, which had been the sternmost of the line, had
closed up to the assistance of the Caledonia; and the other vessels,
under the freshening breeze, now approached rapidly, to take a more
active part in the battle--the second stage of which had now begun.

It was then about forty-five minutes past two.

Seven or eight minutes, with the freshened breeze, brought the Niagara
down upon the enemy. They raked her once or twice, but she reserved
her fire; and the Detroit, of the British squadron, made an effort to
wear ship, to present her starboard broadside to the Niagara, seven
of the English vessel’s port guns having been disabled already by the
Lawrence’s fire.

In this manœuvre the Detroit fouled the Queen Charlotte; and the
Niagara, having shortened sail, passed slowly under the bows of the
Detroit, at pistol-shot distance, and poured into both English vessels,
as they lay entangled, a deadly and destructive fire of grape and
canister.

The Niagara’s port guns at the same time were directed, with equally
fatal effect, into the sterns of the Lady Prevost and the Little
Belt; and her marines cleared the decks of their adversaries by their
musketry. Passing under the lee of the two English ships, which by this
time had got clear of each other, Perry brought by the wind, on the
starboard tack, with his head to the northward and eastward, and backed
the Niagara’s main-top-sail, to deaden her headway. In this position
he continued to pour his starboard broadside into the Queen Charlotte
and the Hunter, which was astern of the Queen Charlotte. Some of his
shot passed through the Charlotte’s ports into the Detroit.

At this time the small American vessels succeeded in coming up to
windward into close action, and poured in a destructive fire of grape
and canister. Unfortunately their shot, when they missed the English
ships, took effect upon the Niagara.

All resistance on the part of the British now ceased, and an officer
appeared on the taffrail of the Queen Charlotte, to signify that she
had struck, and her example was at once followed by the Detroit. Both
vessels surrendered in about seven minutes after the Niagara opened her
fire, and in about fifteen minutes after Perry had assumed the command
of her.

The Hunter struck at the same time; as did the Lady Prevost, which lay
to leeward, under the guns of the Niagara.

The battle had begun, on the part of the enemy, at about a quarter
before noon; and at three P. M. the Queen Charlotte and Detroit had
surrendered, and all resistance had ceased.

As the smoke blew away, the two squadrons were found to be completely
mingled. The shattered Lawrence, which had borne the brunt of the hard
fighting, lay to windward, a helpless wreck; but with her flag once
more hoisted over her. The Niagara, with the signal for close action
still flying, lay close under the lee of the Queen Charlotte, Detroit,
and Hunter.

The Caledonia, Scorpion, and Trippe, which had gallantly followed the
Niagara through the enemy’s line, had taken a position to leeward,
favorable for preventing the enemy’s escape.

The smoke cloud still passing away to leeward, the English vessels
Chippewa and Little Belt were discovered bearing up towards Malden,
under a press of sail. The Scorpion and Trippe were at once sent in
pursuit, and, after a few shots, compelled them to surrender.

And now began the taking possession of the enemy’s ships, a proud, and
yet a melancholy duty, for some of them were in a pitiable condition;
though not worse than that of the Lawrence when Perry left her.

The Detroit was a perfect wreck. Her gaff and mizzen-top-mast hung over
her quarter; all the other masts and yards were badly wounded; all her
braces were shot away; not a single stay was standing, forward; and
her heavy oak bulwarks were much shattered. Many 32-pound shot were
sticking in her port side, which had been fired from Perry’s carronades
before the Lawrence got to close quarters. On the deck of the Detroit
the carnage had been terrible. Many of her guns were dismounted, and
the deck was strewn with killed and wounded, and slippery with blood,
in spite of the “sanding down” preliminary to naval battles of the
period. The deck was found nearly deserted, and in charge of the Second
Lieutenant, the First Lieutenant having been killed about the middle
of the action, and Commodore Barclay having been most dangerously
wounded, somewhat earlier, by a grape-shot in the thigh. After being
carried below, and placed in the hands of the Surgeon, and his wound
temporarily dressed, he insisted upon being again carried on deck. When
the Niagara bore down and delivered her raking fire, Barclay received
a second grape-shot in the right shoulder, which, entering just below
the joint, broke the shoulder blade to pieces, and made a large and
dreadful wound. It will be remembered that he had already lost an arm,
in action with the French. It is said that when, about the close of
the action, a messenger was sent down to tell this unfortunate and
heroic officer that the day was lost, he had himself carried once
more on deck, to convince himself that further resistance would be
unavailing.

The other British vessels were also much cut up, especially the Queen
Charlotte, which ship had lost, early in the action, her Commander,
Captain Finnis, R. N., a brave and accomplished seaman. Her First
Lieutenant was soon after mortally wounded; and the loss of life among
her crew was very severe. Her hull and spars were also very much
damaged.

The other British vessels suffered in like proportion. The Lady Prevost
had both her Commander and her First Lieutenant wounded; and, beside
other injury, had become unmanageable, from the loss of her rudder. The
Commanders of the Hunter and the Chippewa were both wounded; and this
left only the Commander of the Little Belt fit for duty at the close of
the action.

In his official report, Commodore Barclay states that every Commander
and every officer second in command was disabled. He reports his total
of killed and wounded as, for the first, forty-one, including three
officers, and ninety-four wounded, nine of whom were officers. These
returns were probably not very complete, from the inability of the
reporting officer to obtain information; and the British loss was
supposed to be much greater; especially as the bodies of the British
killed (with the exception of those of the officers) were thrown
overboard as they fell.

The shattered condition of the English squadron, which three hours
before had presented a proud and warlike array, and had begun the
battle with cheers, as if certain of victory--hurling death and
defiance at those who had dared to brave the flag of England--was a
most impressive contrast. When the Americans stood as victors on those
blood-stained decks, human feelings at once took the place of the
angry passions raised by the war, and by the immediate conflict. The
prisoners were promptly and humanely cared for.

Our own vessels had suffered severely, as well as those of the enemy.
The Lawrence’s loss has been already given, and it showed an aggregate
much higher than any previously known in modern naval combat, unless
in cases where the conquered vessel has sunk, with her whole crew. The
Niagara lost two killed and twenty-three wounded; all but two of the
latter having been wounded after Perry took command. This is stated by
the Surgeon who received them. The Caledonia had three wounded; and
the Somers two wounded. On board the Ariel one was killed, and three
wounded; while two were killed on board the Scorpion, and two wounded
on board the Trippe. Aggregate, twenty-seven killed, and ninety-six
wounded; being more than one in every four.

Two of the schooners, the Tigress and Porcupine, had no casualties
whatever; and this, taken with the small loss of the Trippe and Somers,
shows that, notwithstanding their efforts to close, they were unable
to take any important part in the action until just before the enemy
struck. The Trippe, although originally the last in the line, from her
superior sailing, and the great exertions of her Commander, Lieutenant
Holdup Stevens, was the first of the four sternmost small vessels to
get into close action.

From the fact that the enemy awaited the attack in close line of
battle, his vessels were all equally available from the first, and
only a part of our squadron fought the concentrated British fire.

The victory was a splendid one, and was pre-eminently due to the
exertions of one person--a young man of twenty-seven, who had never
before borne a part in a naval engagement.

He dashed into action in the Lawrence, with youthful ardor, trusting
that his rear would get up in time. The want of support of the Niagara
caused the fearful loss sustained by the Lawrence, more than the
tardiness of the smaller vessels. We have seen that there was no
thought of submission, even at the darkest moment, and Perry’s act
in passing, at great risk, to the Niagara, cannot be sufficiently
extolled. It was a combination of genius and hardihood, which snatched
victory from the grasp of an enemy whose exultant cheers had already
claimed it.

Labor does not end with victory. After the enemy’s colors had been
hauled down, and the prizes officered and manned, the prisoners were
confined, wounded masts secured, and shot-holes stopped, when all the
vessels were hauled by the wind, on the starboard tack.

Perry then retired to his cabin, to communicate to General Harrison
the intelligence of the event which was to admit of the immediate
advance of his army, and the rescue of our territory from the savage
warfare which the surrender of Hull’s army and subsequent disasters had
entailed upon it.

As far as the immediate seat of war was concerned, the British naval
power was utterly destroyed, and a great and threatening danger removed.

Perry’s letter was short, but covered the whole ground. It was as
follows:--

“DEAR GENERAL,

We have met the enemy, and they are ours. Two ships; two brigs; one
schooner; and one sloop.

Yours with very great respect and esteem,
O. H. PERRY.”

He also wrote to the Secretary of the Navy, by the same express:--

“U. S. BRIG NIAGARA,
OFF THE WESTERNMOST SISTER,
Head of Lake Erie,
Sept. 10, 1813--4 P. M.

SIR:--

It has pleased the Almighty to give to the arms of the United States
a signal victory over their enemy on this lake.

The British squadron, consisting of two ships, two brigs, one
schooner and one sloop, have this moment surrendered to the force
under my command, after a sharp conflict.

I have the honor to be, &c., &c.,
O. H. PERRY.”

This letter, written without deliberation, in the moment of victory, is
modest in describing his battle as a “sharp conflict;” and his allusion
to the Almighty power was sincere, for Perry was a religious man.

After sending off his despatches, he made signal to anchor, to enable
him to provide for the comfort of the wounded, the better security of
his prisoners, and the reorganization of his squadron.

Seventy prisoners were placed on board the Somers, under Mr. Brownell.
Forty were confined below; and the rest seated upon deck, the crew
remaining under arms all night, in spite of the fatigues of the day.
After distributing the remaining prisoners, Perry returned to the
Lawrence, to do what he could for his brave shipmates. It was also
proper that he should receive on board his own ship the surrender of
the English officers, and that the men who had done most to gain the
victory should see the last act of it.

Dr. Parsons writes, “He had returned, and was safe; but to a deck
slippery with blood and brains, and strewn with the bodies of officers
and men, some of whom had sat at table with us at our last meal; and
the ship resounded with the groans of the wounded. Those who could walk
received Perry as he came over the side; but the meeting was a silent
and mournful one.

“At the request of his officers he had, during the action, worn a
uniform round-jacket, and he now resumed his uniform, and standing aft,
received the officers of the different captured vessels, as they came
to surrender. At the head of them was an officer of the 41st British
Regiment, who acted as Marine Officer on board the Detroit, and who
appeared in full dress, charged by the wounded Commodore Barclay with
the delivery of his sword.

“When they approached, picking their way among the wreck and dead
bodies on deck, they held their swords with the hilts towards Perry,
and tendered them for his acceptance.

“With a dignified and solemn air, and in a low voice, he requested
them to retain their side arms, and inquired with deep interest for
Commodore Barclay and the other wounded officers, offering them any
comforts his squadron afforded.”

As it was impossible to reserve all the killed of the Lawrence for
burial on shore, the seamen were buried alongside, at nightfall; the
few survivors attending the ceremony, and the burial service being read
by the Chaplain.

It was a melancholy night on board the Lawrence, sleep being prevented
by the groans of the wounded. Perry said he believed his wife’s prayers
had saved him, for he escaped untouched, as did his young brother, only
twelve years of age, although the latter had several bullets through
his clothing.

On the day after the battle Perry removed to the Ariel, and sent the
Lawrence to Erie, as a hospital ship; but not before he had once more
returned to her, to inquire after the wounded, and to encourage them
under the operations which Dr. Parsons had to perform. Beside the
wounded, there were many ill with fever and diarrhœa.

In the course of the day Perry visited Barclay, on board the Detroit;
and a warm and enduring friendship sprang up, at once, between them.
Perry placed every comfort he could command at Barclay’s disposal; and
became responsible for a considerable sum of money required by the
British officers. He also, at Barclay’s request, advanced money to the
army officers serving in the British squadron.

At the very time he was doing this, cruelties were being exercised
towards our countrymen who were prisoners to the English, so great as
to lead to formal remonstrances and threats of retaliation. Just now it
is the fashion to admire the English, and these things are forgotten,
or ignored.

To relieve Barclay’s mind while suffering from his severe wounds, and
with the hope that restoration to his friends and country would restore
him, Perry pledged himself that he should be paroled; and he made such
urgent representations to the Commissioner of Prisoners, and to the
Secretary of the Navy (making the favor personal to himself, and the
only one he had to ask), that he eventually succeeded.

While Perry was on board the Detroit, on his visit to Barclay, two
strange beings were brought before him, who had been found in that
vessel’s hold, where they had been, without food, since the action.
They proved to be Indian chiefs, ludicrously clad in sailors’ clothes.
With others, they had been taken on board to act as sharp-shooters, in
the tops.

Although probably brave enough in their own manner of fighting, these
savages became entirely unnerved by the crash and destruction around
them, and they fled to the hold, nearly frightened to death.

The English, in both their wars with us, had a great _penchant_ for
the use of the Indians they could hire; and their barbarous allies
frequently led them into consequences they had not foreseen.

When these two Indians were brought before Perry, they expected to
be at once shot and scalped; and they were astonished at his kind
treatment. Soon after he sent them on shore, with a note to General
Harrison, asking protection for them from our own friendly Indians.

At nine A. M., on the morning of September 11th, the two squadrons
weighed anchor, and soon arrived at Put-in Bay. The burial of the
officers who had fallen in battle took place on the twelfth.

The day was a serene and beautiful one, and the lake’s surface was
as smooth as glass. The boats, with colors half-masted, conveyed the
bodies to the shore; keeping time, with their measured stroke, to the
funeral march.

As usual on such ceremonies, when the procession reached the shore,
they formed in reversed order. The youngest of the killed was borne
first; then the lowest in rank of the killed of the British squadron,
and so on, alternately, an American and an English corpse--the body of
Captain Finnis coming last.

The officers fell in, two American and two English, according to
reversed rank; Perry himself closing the procession. The drums and
fifes of both squadrons played the dead march, and minute guns were
fired alternately from the captured vessels, as well as from the
American squadron. The bodies were buried near the shore of the lake,
and after the burial service they were, with due ceremony, lowered to
their rest, and volleys of musketry closed the obsequies.

It was a remarkable scene. Conquerors and conquered were of the same
stock; with the same traits, and the same language; the burial service
of the Church of England sounding in their ears with equal familiarity.

Some of the results of Perry’s success have been already given; but
we may say that his defeat would have given the enemy command of all
the lakes; enabling him to concentrate his forces, in succession, upon
different important points, and would thus have laid our whole northern
frontier open to his incursions.

His victory led to the immediate evacuation of Detroit, and the release
of the whole Territory of Michigan from the horrors of fire, murder,
and scalping, which the Indian allies of the British had carried there.

Perry’s victory also wiped away the stigma incurred in the inglorious
surrender of General Hull; strengthening the hands of the Government,
and giving encouragement to those who were fighting, both on land
and by sea. General Harrison’s army now invaded Canada in turn; the
squadron assisting to convey his forces.

This is not the place to recount Perry’s subsequent exploits as aid
to General Harrison, or his participation in the battle of Tippecanoe,
when he served with Cass, Shelby, Richard Johnson, and Gaines, who was
then a Colonel; nor of the consequences of Perry’s endeavor to shield
Elliott’s conduct, in the battle with the English squadron.

For this, and for Perry’s subsequent service, and premature death,
after distinguished services in Venezuela, we must refer the reader to
the pages of our general history.

ESSEX, PHŒBE AND CHERUB--VALPARAISO. MARCH 28TH, A. D. 1814.

This naval action, fought in the vicinity of Valparaiso, during our
last war with Great Britain, is so remarkable for the circumstances
attending it, and for the pertinacity of the American defence against
superior force, that, although not a decisive battle, we have thought
it right to insert it here.

Few Englishmen would now attempt to uphold the breach of neutrality
committed by the two English ships upon the Essex, with her anchor down
upon Chilian soil, and with the Spanish flag flying upon forts and
batteries within sight. But, as it was not the first, so it is not the
last time that England has infringed such laws, where she has been able
to do so with impunity.

The United States frigate Essex, 32, sailed from the Capes of the
Delaware October, 6th, 1812, upon a cruise, the object and destination
of which were kept profoundly secret. Her destination was the
Pacific--still called the “South Seas”--the navigation of which was
still comparatively unknown; new islands being constantly discovered,
the inhabitants of which had never seen any other men than their fellow
islanders.

The object of the cruise was to destroy the “South-sea-men,” or
whalers, of Great Britain; as well as the traders of the same
nation, and thus inflict a heavy blow upon a sensitive part of an
Englishman--his pocket.

The story of the cruise, by Captain Porter, the Commander of the Essex;
with his passage to the Cape Verde Islands, the Coast of Brazil, around
Cape Horn into the Pacific, and his operations there; together with the
incidents of his stay at the Gallapagos and Washington groups, and his
numerous captures, read like a romance of the sea. Yet it is all true;
and the account is written in a circumstantial manner, with day and
date, by a genuine and successful sailor.

This cruise is memorable for another reason--that Farragut, afterwards
the greatest naval commander of his day, made his first cruise then,
and witnessed his first naval action, while still a child, deporting
himself with the coolness and gallantry which ever afterwards
distinguished him.

David Porter, the Commander of the Essex, was born in Boston, in 1780,
and was at this time thirty-three years of age--that glorious period of
life which combines the fire and ability of youth with the experience
and self-control derived from contact with the world. He entered the
navy in 1798, and was a midshipman in the Constellation, in her action
with the French frigate Insurgente, in February, 1799. He afterwards
served on the West India station, as a Lieutenant, and had many
conflicts, in the schooner Experiment, with the pirates and privateers
which, at that time, and long after, infested those waters. In 1801 he
was in the schooner Enterprize, and, off Malta, he captured, after an
engagement of three hours, a Tripolitan cruiser of fourteen guns.

Soon after, in a boat expedition, at Tripoli, he was wounded for the
second time; and in October, 1803, he was captured in the frigate
Philadelphia, and remained a prisoner until the war closed.

He was made a captain in 1812, and appointed to the Essex.

After the war with England, Porter became a member of the Board of Navy
Commissioners, but resigned that post to take command of an expedition
against the West Indian pirates. He was court-martialed for exceeding
his powers during this cruise, and sentenced to be suspended for six
months.

Upon this he resigned his commission and entered the Mexican service
as Naval Commander-in-chief. After serving there for some years he
returned to the United States in 1829, and was made United States
Consul General for the Barbary States. He was afterwards transferred
to Constantinople as _Chargé d’Affaires_, and soon became Minister
Resident.

He died in Constantinople, in March, 1843, and his remains were brought
home in a man-of-war, and interred in the Naval Asylum grounds.

And now, to return to the Essex and her cruise. All Americans should
read Porter’s account, which vies in interest with those of Anson or La
Peyrouse, the difference being that their sole object was discovery,
while Porter had principally in view the crippling of his enemy’s
resources. His attack upon British interests in that part of the globe
was entirely unexpected, and the unbounded rage of the English was
excited when they learned, from prisoners sent in cartels, that such
wholesale destruction was going on, and their trade being completely
annihilated; and they hastened to take means to stop Porter’s career.

The latter, in the meantime, was living off the enemy, showing
the greatest activity and resource, maintaining discipline under
exceptional circumstances, and keeping his crew in good humor, with
much tact and knowledge of sailor character.

In those days no docks or dockyards were to be found anywhere south of
the line. Ports were few and not much frequented, for fear of blockade.
Necessary food, sea-stores, rigging and material for repairs were,
indeed, as far as Porter was concerned, only to be obtained by capture,
and it required a man not only of pluck and nautical ability, but of
resources in many other directions, to make such a cruise as he did. At
the last, through no fault of his, he was overwhelmed in a harbor which
should have afforded him security, and the career of the Essex brought
to an end by a shameful violation of neutrality.

In the course of his cruise, Porter had seized and disarmed a Peruvian
corvette, which had been preying upon American whalers, and then
sent her away with a caution. He had also seized and disposed of, in
different ways, English “South-sea-men,” aggregating 3369 tons, with
302 men and 107 guns; had provisioned his own crew and partly paid his
men, from the prizes. One of the latter, the Atlantic, he had fitted
out for cruising, under his first lieutenant, Mr. Downes, re-naming her
Essex Junior. This ship mounted 20 guns and was efficient as a cruiser
against merchantmen and whalers, but was not expected to stand an
engagement.

Porter had sent Downes, with some prizes, to Valparaiso, and upon his
return the latter reported that Commodore James Hillyar, an English
officer of experience, ability and courage, had been sent out in the
frigate Phœbe, of 36 guns, to look for the American frigate, her work
having caused great consternation when the news of it reached England.
The English sloops Raccoon and Cherub were also despatched to the
Pacific, under Hillyar’s orders.

The Essex being in much need of repairs after her long and stirring
cruise, Porter determined to put her in as good condition as his
resources permitted, and then seek to bring the enemy to action, if he
could meet him on anything like equal terms.

He, therefore, went to Nukahivah, or Madison’s Island, in the
Washington group, which had been discovered by Captain Ingraham, of
Boston. Here he caulked his ship and overhauled the rigging, made new
water casks, and took from his prizes provisions and stores for four
months.

On the 12th of December, 1813, he sailed for the coast of Chili, and
arrived on January 12th, 1814. He could hear nothing of the British
squadron reported to be looking for him. Some persons even supposed
that they had been lost in trying to double Cape Horn. At this period
Porter had completely broken up British navigation in the Pacific, as
those vessels which had not been captured by him were laid up, and
dared not venture out of port.

He had, in the meantime, afforded ample protection and assistance to
our own ships. The English whale fishery was entirely destroyed, and
now a squadron was coming out to look for him, involving very great
expense. As has been said, he had lived upon the enemy, and had been
obliged to draw no bills, but, on the contrary, had been able to
advance pay to both officers and crew.

Considering how much they had been at sea, his crew was very healthy,
and he had had but one case of scurvy, then the curse of cruising
ships. Two officers only had been lost: the Surgeon, from disease, and
a Lieutenant, killed in a duel; while eight seamen and marines had been
lost from sickness and ordinary casualties.

Porter believed that Hillyar would try to keep his arrival in the
Pacific secret, and seek him at Valparaiso, and he, therefore, cruised
in that neighborhood, where he hoped also to capture some merchant
vessels expected from England.

On the 3d of February the Essex anchored in Valparaiso bay, and
exchanged the usual salutes and civilities with the Spanish authorities.

These appeared civil, and even cordial, and the governor duly returned
Captain Porter’s visit.

The Essex Junior was directed to cruise off the port, for the twofold
purpose of intercepting the enemy’s merchant vessels, and of informing
Porter immediately of the appearance of any of their men-of-war. Then
work began, to put the Essex in order, after which liberty was given
to the crew. The people of Valparaiso showed great civility, and this
was returned by an entertainment on board the Essex, in which the Essex
Junior participated, but kept a sharp lookout at the same time. They
danced until midnight, and the Essex Junior then went outside.

Next morning they had not had time to take down the awnings, flags and
decorations spread for the party, when the Essex Junior signalized
two English ships in sight. At this time half the Essex’ crew were on
shore, on liberty. A gun was fired as a signal for their return, and
the ship restored to her usual condition as soon as possible. Porter
went out in the Essex Junior to reconnoitre, and found that both the
English vessels appeared to be frigates; returning at once, he anchored
the tender near the Essex, and prepared for mutual defence. When he
returned to his own ship, at about 7.30 A.M., he had the gratification
of not only finding the ship prepared for action, but _every man_
on board. He felt great doubts about the English respecting the
neutrality of the port, but resolved to act upon the defensive entirely.

At 8 A. M. the two English ships, a frigate and sloop of war, came into
the harbor. The frigate, which proved to be the Phœbe, ranged alongside
the Essex, within a few yards, and between her and the Essex Junior.
The Phœbe was seen to be all ready for action.

Captain Hillyar hailed, and politely inquired after Captain Porter’s
health, and the usual compliments were exchanged between them.

Captains Hillyar and Porter had been acquainted in the Mediterranean.
Among the American officers at that time on the station, no British
officer was so much liked as Hillyar, and his family was visited,
at Gibraltar, by Porter and many others. On one occasion Hillyar’s
family had gone, as passengers, with Commodore Rodgers, from Malta to
Gibraltar. The relations between the two Captains, thus brought face to
face, with tompions out and matches lighted, were rather peculiar.

Finding the Phœbe approaching nearer the Essex than either prudence
or the neutrality of the port would permit, Porter called to Hillyar
that the Essex was all ready for action, and that he should act on the
defensive.

Hillyar replied, in an off-hand way, “Oh, I have no intention of
getting on board of you.”

Porter replied that if he did fall on board of him there would be much
blood shed. Hillyar merely called out again that he had no intention of
falling on board the Essex. Porter, finding that he was luffing up so
much as to cause his ship to be taken aback, and her jib-boom coming
over the Essex’ forecastle, called, “All hands to board the enemy;”
directing them, if the ships touched, to spring on board the Phœbe. The
latter vessel was now in a precarious condition, for not a gun of hers
could be brought to bear upon either of the American vessels, while her
bow was exposed to the raking fire of one, and her stern to that of the
other. The Phœbe’s consort, the Cherub, of 28 guns, was too far off to
leeward to afford any assistance. The Phœbe had been informed, by a
boat which had pulled out from an English merchant ship, that the Essex
was in great confusion, from the entertainment of the night before, and
that half her crew were on shore, on liberty.

Great was the surprise of the Englishmen, then, when they saw a full
crew ready to board them, and kedge-anchors triced up to the yard-arms,
ready to drop and grapple them.

Captain Hillyar at once sang out that he had no intention of boarding;
that it was an accident that his ship was taken aback, and that he was
sorry to be put in an equivocal situation, and had no hostile intention.

The Phœbe was, at this moment, entirely at the mercy of the Essex; and
Porter could have destroyed her. The temptation was great to do so.
Porter would have been justified, upon the plea of self-defence; but
Captain Hillyar’s assurances disarmed him, and Porter at once hailed
the Essex Junior, and ordered Captain Downes not to begin firing
without orders. Captain Hillyar was then allowed to extricate his ship
from her disagreeable position; the Phœbe separating from the Essex,
and drifting by the American vessels, constantly exposed to their
raking fire, to finally anchor on the east side of the harbor, just
within shot of the Essex’ 18-pounders, but beyond the reach of her
carronades. The Cherub anchored quite close upon the port bow of the
Essex; whereupon Porter ordered the Essex Junior to so place herself
that the Cherub would be between two fires; an arrangement which seems
to have excited the ineffectual anger of Captain Tucker, the Commander
of the smaller English vessel.

Porter tells us that, on going on shore, great astonishment was
expressed by the officials and people of Valparaiso, that he had not
taken advantage of the opportunity, and destroyed his enemy. Porter
replied that he respected the neutrality of the port, and should
continue to do so. He had reason, not very long after, to regret his
moderation.

When on shore in Valparaiso Porter generally staid at Senor Blanco’s,
and the two British Captains paid him a visit there, on the day
after their arrival. This visit was returned, and a rather friendly
intercourse was soon established, not only between the Commanders, but
the officers of the respective ships, whenever they met on shore--their
conduct being such that no one could have supposed that they belonged
to nations at war with each other.

At the first meeting on shore, Porter told Hillyar that it was
important to know whether he (Hillyar) intended to respect the
neutrality of the port. Hillyar replied, very emphatically, “_You_ have
paid so much respect to the neutrality of the port that I feel myself
bound in honor to respect it.”

Porter rejoined that his assurance was sufficient, and that he should
henceforth feel at his ease, and not always prepared for action.

The English frigate had hoisted a flag (motto flags were then the
fashion), bearing the words, “God and country; British sailors’ best
rights; traitors offend both.” Porter asked Hillyar what the flag
meant, and was informed that it was a reply to Porter’s motto, “Free
trade and sailors’ rights,” which was particularly offensive to the
British navy; and that he should always hoist it when Porter hoisted
his. The next time the English motto was hoisted Porter replied with a
flag having, “God, our Country, and Liberty--tyrants offend them,” and
each ship gave three cheers for their flag.

In spite of all this, personal intercourse and apparent good feeling
continued between the two Captains. They discussed the objects of the
British squadron; their long hunt for Porter, and the present status.

This intercourse between public enemies was, in fact, a very curious
thing.

Hillyar asked Porter what he intended to do with his prizes; when he
was going to sea; and other pertinent and delicate questions of a like
nature.

Porter told him that whenever he sent away the Cherub the Essex would
go to sea, and that his sailing day would be fixed by Captain Hillyar.
Once met, Porter said he would test the force of the two ships, but
as the Essex was smaller than the Phœbe, he would not be justified to
his country in losing his ship, and so would not challenge him. If,
however, the Captain of the Phœbe would send away the Cherub and then
challenge the Essex, he (Porter) would be willing to fight. No doubt
all this was discussed over a cigar and a glass of wine, but this we
can only conjecture.

Hillyar said that success in naval actions depended upon so many
accidents, and that the loss of a spar or mast sometimes determined the
fate of the day, so he should trust to chance to bring the two ships
together; that he was not disposed to yield the advantage of superior
force, and should blockade Porter until other English men-of-war
arrived, and at all events prevent him from doing further mischief to
British commerce.

Porter told Hillyar that his prizes were only an encumbrance to him
under the circumstances, and that some time he should take them out to
sea and destroy them. To this Hillyar rejoined that he dare not do so
with him in sight. Porter merely answered, “We shall see.”

As Hillyar was determined to lose none of the advantage of superior
force, and it was known that other ships were soon coming to join him,
Porter endeavored still to provoke the English Commodore to challenge
him to a single contest.

The Cherub lying near the Essex, the crews sang original songs directed
at each other. It is said that the Yankee songs had the most point,
which is likely, for the average English nautical mind is not very
brilliant. The officers encouraged this amusement, which took place in
the fine, calm first watches, to the frequent annoyance of the English
and the great amusement of neutrals. Captain Hillyar requested Porter
to put a stop to it, but the latter refused to do so unless the Cherub
ceased first.

At length the quasi-friendly relations between the Commanders became
very much “strained,” as the diplomatists say, by the harboring of
an escaped prisoner from the Essex on board the Cherub. This led to
an exchange of strongly-worded letters. Porter and Hillyar continued
to meet on shore quite frequently, and at this time Porter proposed
an exchange of prisoners by sending one of the prizes to England as
a cartel, to bring thence to the United States an equal number. This
proposition came to nothing, but Porter liberated his English prisoners
on condition that they should not serve until exchanged; and Hillyar
undertook to write to England and have as many Americans liberated.

In the meantime the Essex Junior had gone outside to reconnoitre a
strange sail, and was very nearly cut off by the English vessels both
going out, but the Essex manned her boats, sent them out and towed her
in in safety.

The English ships then continued to cruise outside, and Porter, to try
his rate of sailing with them, chose an opportunity, when they were
well to leeward, to get under way and let them chase him. He found
he could outsail them both, and could escape at almost any time, but
he was led to remain in Valparaiso by the hope of bringing the Phœbe
to single action. This resolution, though chivalric, was not exactly
prudent.

One day Porter towed the ship Hector, a prize, to sea. The two British
ships were then far in the offing, and Porter had the prize set on
fire. He then returned to his anchorage, unmolested, although the
English made every exertion to come up with him. This insult seemed to
have the desired effect, and on the afternoon of the 22d of February,
1814, the Cherub was seen to be about three miles to leeward of the
harbor, while the Phœbe was standing in alone. At 5 P.M. she hove
about, a short distance from the Essex, with head off shore, shortened
sail, fired a gun to windward (a nautical challenge), and hoisted her
motto flag.

Porter instantly accepted the challenge, hoisted his motto, fired a gun
and got under way.

The Phœbe made sail and stood off shore, while Porter followed,
under all sail. He was nearing the English frigate fast, when to his
astonishment, she bore off before the wind, and ran down for her
consort. Porter fired two shots across her fore-foot, but they did not
bring her to, and the Essex hauled her wind and returned to port, where
she anchored before the two British vessels could reach her.

Porter did not spare some caustic remarks upon this affair, and they
reached Hillyar, through British residents on shore.

Defiant letters were interchanged between the ships’ companies. Porter
wrote to Hillyar, and Hillyar to Porter, and, as was natural, angry
feelings increased.

About the middle of March the First Lieutenant of the Phœbe (who was
afterwards killed in the action) came on board the Essex, under a flag
of truce, with a message from Captain Hillyar.

Presuming it was a challenge, Porter required the presence of some of
his officers, and then asked the English officer the purport of his
message.

The Englishman said that Captain Hillyar had heard that Captain Porter
had publicly stated that Hillyar had acted in a cowardly manner, by
running away from the Essex after challenging her, but that he could
not believe the report, and had sent his first Lieutenant to ascertain
the truth.

Porter at once told him that he had said so, and still thought so.

The English Lieutenant then stated that he was instructed to tell
Captain Porter that the hoisting the flag and firing the gun, by the
Phœbe, was not intended as a challenge, but as a signal to her consort.

Porter replied that Captain Hillyar had informed him that the flag was
intended for the Essex, and there “was not a man, woman nor child in
Valparaiso who did not think it a challenge.” The Lieutenant repeated
that Captain Hillyar desired him to assure Captain Porter that it was
not intended for a challenge.

Porter said he was bound to believe Captain Hillyar, if he said so; but
that he should always consider such a proceeding a challenge: and that,
whenever he chose to send away the Cherub, and repeat the manœuvre,
he should act as he had before done. The Lieutenant once more assured
Porter that it was not a challenge, and that Captain Hillyar did not
approve of challenges, as he was a religious man.

Such a state of things as we have been describing could not, of course,
last very long.

Exasperation was fast taking the place of self-control, on both sides;
and as more British vessels were expected, it was necessary for Porter
to take some decided step. A crisis was evidently approaching.

The relative strength of the two nations, in Valparaiso, was then as
follows:--

The Phœbe carried thirty long eighteens; sixteen thirty-two pound
carronades; one howitzer, and six three-pounders in the tops; in all,
fifty-three guns. Her crew consisted of three hundred and twenty men.

The Cherub carried eighteen thirty-two pound carronades; eight
twenty-fours; two long nines; and had a crew of one hundred and eighty
men.

On the American side, the Essex mounted forty-six guns. Forty of these
were thirty-two pound carronades, and six were long twelves. Her crew,
reduced by those in prizes, was only two hundred and fifty-five men.

The Essex Junior, built for whaling, was principally a store-ship, or
tender. She mounted twenty guns, taken from captured whalers. Ten of
these were eighteen-pound carronades, and ten were short sixes. She had
a crew of sixty men.

For six weeks the English ships had been mostly under way, and
cruising off the port; and Porter was finally induced to put to
sea by the certain intelligence that the Tagus, 38, and two other
English frigates, were on their way to the Pacific. The Raccoon was
also expected; which sloop had been sent up to the northwest Coast
of America for the purpose of destroying the American Fur Company’s
establishment, on the Columbia river.

Having agreed upon a rendezvous where he could meet the Essex Junior,
Porter determined to allow the two British vessels to chase him off the
coast, and thereby to permit his tender to escape.

On March 28th the wind came out fresh from the southward, and the Essex
parted one of her cables, and dragged the other anchor directly out to
sea; so that it was necessary to get sail on the ship instantly. The
enemy were, at the time, close in with the western point of the bay;
but when Porter had made sail, and opened them, he saw a chance of
passing them to windward; and, taking in top-gallant-sails, which had
been set over single-reefed top-sails, he braced up for that purpose.

Unfortunately, as the Essex came up with the point, and was passing it,
it happened (as it often does in such localities) that a heavy squall
struck the ship, and carried away her main-top-mast; and all the men
aloft, furling the top-gallant-sail, were lost.

Admiral Farragut said, in after years, that the reason why they lost
the main-top-mast was, that the yard jammed, and would not come down
when the halliards were let go--the top-gallant-sail being clewed down.

The loss of this spar was most disastrous. Both the English ships
at once gave chase, and the crippled Essex endeavored to regain the
port. Finding he could not reach the usual anchorage, Porter ran into
a small bay, about three-quarters of a mile to leeward of a small
Chilian battery, on the east side of the harbor, and anchored within
pistol-shot of the shore; intent upon repairing damages as soon as
possible. The enemy’s vessels continued to approach, and showed every
intention of attacking him, regardless of the fact that the Essex was
anchored close to neutral shores. They bore down with caution, however,
hoisting a number of motto flags and jacks.

Porter went to quarters and got his ship clear of the wreck and ready
for action as soon as possible, but he had not time to get a spring
upon his cable, for at about 4 P. M. the attack was made, the Phœbe
assuming a position under the Essex’ stern, and the Cherub one on
her starboard bow. Their fire was promptly returned, and the Cherub
soon found her position a hot one, and she bore up to join the Phœbe
under the Essex’ stern, whence they delivered a severe raking fire.
The Essex could not get her broadside to bear, but fought three long
twelve-pounders out of the stern ports, which were worked with such
bravery, skill and rapidity, that in half an hour both English ships
were obliged to draw off to repair damages.

During the firing, the Essex succeeded, by dint of great exertion, in
getting a spring upon the cable no less than three times, but the fire
of the enemy was so heavy that it was each time shot away before her
broadside could be brought to bear.

The Essex was already much damaged and had a good many killed and
wounded, but the ship’s company were in good spirits, and though they
were caught at such a disadvantage, resolved to resist to the last.

The gaff, with the motto flag and ensign, had been shot away, but “Free
Trade and Sailor’s Rights” continued to fly at the fore. The ensign
was now made fast in the main rigging, and several jacks displayed
at different points. The enemy soon repaired damages and were ready
to renew the attack, and both his ships now placed themselves on
the Essex’ starboard quarter, out of the reach of her broadside
carronades, and where her stern guns would not bear. They then opened
and kept up a galling fire, which the Essex could not return at all,
and there was no chance for the American ship, unless she could get
underway and assail in turn. The Essex’ top-sail sheets and halliards
were all shot away, as well as the jib and stay-sail halliards. Indeed,
the only rope of that kind not cut was the flying-jib halliards. This,
the only available sail, was set, the cable cut, and Porter steered
down upon the English vessels, intending to lay the Phœbe aboard.
The firing on both sides was now incessant. Porter let fall his
fore-top-sail and fore-sail, but the want of tacks and sheets rendered
them almost useless. Yet he approached his enemy slowly, and although
the decks were thickly strewn with dead, and the cockpit filled with
wounded, and although the ship had been several times on fire and was
almost a wreck, they still had some hopes, for the Cherub was just then
compelled to haul off. This ship did not come into close action again,
although she kept up a distant fire from her long guns. The disabled
state of the Essex enabled the Phœbe, by edging off, to choose her own
distance, and use her long guns, with which she kept up a tremendous
fire, which mowed down the Essex’ crew in a fearful way. Farragut,
in his recollections, praises the Surgeons for their coolness and
dexterity, although they had, at this time, patients killed under their
hands.

Many of the American guns had been rendered useless, and many had their
entire crews destroyed by this fire.

The remaining guns were again manned, however, and one gun was three
times re-manned--fifteen people having been killed at that one piece
during the action. The captain of this same gun alone escaped, with a
slight scratch.

Finding that the enemy had it in his power to choose his distance, and
thus destroy him at leisure, and as the wind at the moment favored,
Porter determined to run his ship on shore, land his men, and destroy
her. When he was within musket-shot of the beach the wind suddenly
shifted right off shore, and paid the Essex off, with her head towards
the Phœbe; exposing her again to a deadly raking fire.

The Essex was by this time totally unmanageable, yet as her head was
towards the enemy, and the latter was to leeward, Porter still had a
faint hope that he might be able to board her.

Just then Lieutenant Downes, the Commander of the Essex Junior,
thinking that the Essex would soon be taken, pulled out in his boat,
and came on board to receive Porter’s orders. In the wretched condition
of the ship Downes could be of no use, and finding that the enemy had
put his helm up and ran off, so that he could not board her, Porter
directed Downes to return to his own ship, prepare for her defence,
and if necessary, destroy her. Downes, therefore, took several of the
wounded, left three of his own crew, and rejoined the Essex Junior.

The slaughter on board the Essex was now horrible; and the enemy
continued to rake her, while she could not bring a gun to bear.

Porter then bent a hawser to his sheet-anchor, and cut the anchor away,
thus bringing her head round.

Her broadside was then again brought to bear, and as the Phœbe was
much crippled, and unable to hold her own, it is probable he would
have drifted out of gunshot before he discovered that the Essex had
anchored again, had not the hawser unfortunately parted. The case of
the Essex now seemed hopeless. Several fires had been extinguished
during the engagement; but now fire made headway both forward and aft;
and flames, supposed to come from near the magazine, were shooting up
the hatchways. At this juncture they were about three-quarters of a
mile from the shore, and there was a bare chance for those of the crew
who could swim well to reach the land. The boats were all destroyed by
the enemy’s shot, and the fire was now burning fiercely, close to the
after magazine.

Orders were given for those who could swim to jump overboard and make
for the shore. Many did so, some with clothes already on fire. Some
reached the beach, some were captured by the enemy’s boats, and some
perished. Most of the surviving officers and crew preferred to share,
with the Captain, the fate of the ship. These were now wholly employed
in endeavors to extinguish the flames; and in this they finally
succeeded.

They then once more manned the guns, and renewed the engagement; but
the crew were now so weakened that all saw the impossibility of further
resistance, and entreated Captain Porter to surrender, as the ship
was entirely disabled, and such a step was necessary, to save the
wounded. Porter sent for the division officers, to consult them; but
found only Lieutenant McKnight remaining. He confirmed the reports of
the bad condition of the ship, below, and the disabled state of the
guns, and their crews. Lieutenant Wilmer had been knocked overboard
by a splinter, while getting the sheet-anchor overboard, and had been
drowned, after fighting gallantly through the whole action. Acting
Lieutenant Cowell had lost a leg. The Sailing Master, Mr. Barnewell,
was badly wounded. Acting Lieutenant Odenheimer had been knocked
overboard, but managed to sustain himself upon some floating wreck, not
succeeding, however, in regaining the ship until after her surrender.
The cockpit, steerage, wardroom, and berth-deck were full of wounded;
some of whom were killed while the Surgeons were operating upon them.
More than this, it was evident that unless something was done the ship
must soon sink, with all on board, from the numerous shot-holes below
the water line.

The Carpenter reported that all his men were either killed or wounded;
and he himself had narrowly escaped drowning, as the slings in which
he was suspended, while overboard, stopping shot-holes, had been shot
away. It was impossible to reach the enemy with the carronades; while
they, from the smoothness of the water, and immunity from shot, were
enabled to use their long guns upon the Essex, as upon a target.

It is said that, at this time, Lieutenant Ingram, of the Phœbe, wanted
Captain Hillyar to bear down and board the Essex--saying it was
deliberate murder to lie off and fire in this way. This gallant English
officer was killed, among the last, that day.

The American ship continued to be hulled at every shot, and was cut up
in a way seldom witnessed. In a word, there was no hope of saving her,
and at half-past six in the evening Porter was forced to strike his
colors.

Only seventy-five officers and men remained fit for duty; and many of
these were wounded, and some afterwards died.

In spite of the colors being down, the enemy continued his deliberate
fire, and the survivors continued to fall. Porter ordered an opposite
gun to be fired, to intimate his surrender, but the fire continued, and
several more men fell.

Porter now believed that they intended to show no quarter; and he was
upon the point of hoisting his flag again, when, about ten minutes
after the colors had been struck, the enemy ceased firing.

It is only fair to suppose that the smoke prevented them from seeing
that the flag was down.

Porter, and his officers and crew, had shown unparalleled bravery,
skill, zeal, and patriotism; and nothing but the absolute requirements
of humanity caused their surrender--to save the helpless wounded. Had
they been disposed of, there is little doubt they would have let the
Essex sink under them, and have taken the chance of gaining the shore.

The action had been fought almost entirely with the great guns;
musketry being only used during the first half hour. During most of the
time the Essex could only use her six long twelves; and it is fair to
say that every one did his whole duty. Farragut, then a mere child, was
mentioned, among others, for gallantry, but was “too young to recommend
for promotion.”

The Essex’ ship’s company were unfortunate, but not disgraced. Out
of them fifty-eight were killed, or died subsequently of wounds;
thirty-nine were severely wounded; twenty-seven were slightly wounded;
and thirty-one were missing--mostly drowned. Lieutenant Cowell, whose
leg was shattered, insisted upon waiting his turn, with the other
wounded, for amputation, and thereby lost his life.

The enemy’s loss, which was comparatively light, from the circumstances
under which the battle was fought, included the First Lieutenant of the
Phœbe, killed, and Captain Tucker, of the Cherub, severely wounded.
Both the Essex and the Phœbe were in a sinking state, and were with
difficulty kept afloat until morning, when they anchored in the port of
Valparaiso.

The Essex was afterwards repaired, and sent to England, when she was
added to the British navy. The Phœbe had eighteen shot-holes through
her, below the water line, and nothing saved both ships but the fact
that the water was very smooth.

During the action the American Consul General, Mr. Poinsett, demanded
from the Governor of Valparaiso that his batteries should protect the
Essex.

This was refused; but he was promised that, if she fought her way in
to the usual anchorage, he would send to the British Commander, and
request him to desist, but would not use force under any circumstances.
This, and other evidences of bias in favor of the British were so
strong, that Mr. Poinsett left the country, having no hope that any
claim for the restoration of the ship would be entertained.

The change of feeling in the authorities of Valparaiso, Porter
attributed to a revolution, which had lately put new people into power;
beside the fact that the South American nations always favored the
strongest force.

Soon after their capture Captain Hillyar allowed the prisoners to
proceed to the United States in the Essex Junior, which ship was
disarmed, and furnished with a passport, to prevent recapture.

Porter, in his remarks upon the battle, says that while he could never
be reconciled to Hillyar’s course in attacking the Essex in neutral
waters, he must do the English Captain the justice to say that, after
the capture he did all he could to alleviate the misery of the wounded
and prisoners. Their private property was pilfered, to be sure, but it
was against Hillyar’s positive orders. Porter also very truly remarks
that the Essex would almost certainly have escaped to sea, but for the
accident to her mast, and that it was a wonderful thing that the two
ships should not have captured or destroyed her in a much shorter time.

The English frigate Tagus arrived a few days after the battle. She,
with other English ships, had been sent to look for Porter in the China
Seas, Timor and Australia. Porter estimated the cost to the English
government of the capture of the Essex as, at least, $6,000,000.

We now pass to the singular termination of the voyage of the Essex
Junior, which ship left Valparaiso with the paroled American prisoners.
She made a remarkably good passage of 73 days, to Sandy Hook, the
prisoners hoping to be in time to be exchanged, fit out a vessel, and
intercept the prize on her passage to England. But off Sandy Hook they
fell in with the British ship Saturn, the Captain of which at first
passed them, but two hours after boarded them again, and revoked the
pass. As Captain Hillyar’s pass was thus violated, Captain Porter
revoked his parole, and declared himself the Saturn’s prisoner. The
Essex Junior was directed to remain all night under the Saturn’s guns.
The next morning the ships were some thirty miles off Long Island,
within musket-shot of each other, and in a dense fog. Porter determined
to escape. A boat was lowered and manned, and Porter entered it,
leaving with Lieutenant Downes a message for Captain Nash, of the
Saturn, to the effect that he was “satisfied that British officers were
destitute of honor, and regardless of the honor of each other. That he
was armed and intended to defend himself against boats sent out after
him.” He got nearly a gunshot off, in the fog, before it was discovered
that he had left, and when he was pursued he eluded the enemy’s boats
and landed at Babylon, Long Island. The English asserted breach of
parole in his case, but the Government took up the matter, and it was
finally satisfactorily arranged.

In connection with the homeward passage of the Essex Junior, we
must not omit to mention the sad fate of Lieutenant Stephen Decatur
McKnight, the only Lieutenant of the Essex who escaped unhurt from the
sanguinary engagement with the Phœbe and Cherub.

Lieutenant McKnight and Midshipman Lyman had remained behind, and
went to Rio Janeiro in the Phœbe, to make the affidavits necessary to
condemn the Essex as a prize. They were then allowed the option of
going to England in the Phœbe, or to be allowed to go to Europe in a
merchant vessel, and thence home, on parole. They preferred the latter,
and sailed from Rio in a Swedish brig called the Adonis. On the passage
they met, at sea, the United States ship Wasp, Captain Blakely, on a
cruise, and left the Adonis and joined the Wasp, in mid-ocean. The Wasp
was never seen again after the Adonis left her.

It may further be of interest to have Admiral Farragut’s recollections
of this battle, as well as his comments thereon, when ripe in years and
experience.

Farragut was only thirteen years old at the time of the battle; but, as
we have seen, he was commended for his coolness and conduct.

He said that, when the English ships first came in, and while the Essex
and Phœbe were close together, and the Captains talking to each other,
a young fellow stationed at a gun-deck gun of the Essex, who had just
come off from liberty, rather tipsy, fancied he saw a man on board the
Phœbe grinning at him.

“My fine fellow,” said he, “I’ll soon stop your making faces!” and was
about to fire his gun, when Lieutenant McKnight saw him, and knocked
him over. Farragut remarks that, if this gun had been fired, the battle
would then have taken place, under such circumstances that the Phœbe
would most likely have been taken.

He also mentions (which Captain Porter does not), that one night, while
the English ships were outside, the Americans manned all boats, to
board and capture them; but finding them prepared, and their men lying
at their quarters, they returned.

In his later years the gallant Admiral gave his opinion as follows:
“In the first place, I consider our original and greatest error was
in attempting to regain the original anchorage, as, being of very
fine sailing qualities, the Essex should have borne up and run before
the wind. If we had come in contact with the Phœbe, we could have
boarded her. If she avoided us--having all her masts, and ability to
manœuvre--then we could have taken her fire, and passed on, leaving
both vessels behind, until we could have replaced our topmast. By this
time they would have separated, or it would have been no chase, as the
Cherub was a dull sailer.

“Secondly. When it was apparent to everybody that we had no chance of
success, under the circumstances, the ship should have been run on
shore, throwing her broadside to the beach, to prevent raking; fought
as long as was consistent with humanity, and then set on fire. But,
having determined upon anchoring, we should have bent a spring on the
ring of the anchor, instead of upon the cable, where it was exposed,
and could be shot away as fast as it could be put on. This mode of
proceeding would have given us, in my opinion, a better opportunity
of injuring our opponents.” Farragut further says, “It has been quite
common to blame Captain Hillyar for his conduct in this affair; but
when we come to consider the characteristics of the two Commanders, we
may be inclined to judge more leniently; although Porter’s complaints
in the matter will excite no surprise. Porter was then about thirty-one
years of age, and the ‘pink of chivalry,’ and of an ardent and
impetuous temperament; while Hillyar was a cool and calculating man, of
about fifty; and he himself said, ‘had gained his reputation by several
single-ship combats; and only expected to retain it on the present
occasion by implicit obedience to his orders, viz: to capture the Essex
with the least possible risk to his vessel and crew;’ and as he had
a superior force, he had determined not to leave anything to chance,
believing any other course would call down on him the disapprobation of
his government.”

Among other reminiscences by Farragut, we find that when Lieutenant
Ingram visited the Essex, under a flag of truce, he was shown all over
her, and made a very good impression by his frank and manly bearing. He
said the happiest moment of his life would be to take her to England
should she be captured in equal combat. Porter replied that, should
such an event occur, he knew no British officer to whom he would more
readily yield the honor. Poor Ingram was killed by a splinter, and the
American officers who survived attended his funeral, in Valparaiso.

“During the action,” says Admiral Farragut, in his later years, “I was,
like ‘Paddy in the Catharpins,’ a man on occasions. I performed the
duties of Captain’s aid, quarter-gunner, powder-boy, and, in fact, did
everything that was required of me. I shall never forget the horrible
impression made upon me at the sight of the first man I had ever seen
killed. He was a boatswain’s mate, and was fearfully mutilated. It
staggered and sickened me at first, but they soon began to fall around
me so fast that it all appeared like a dream, and produced no effect
upon my nerves. I can remember well, while I was standing near the
Captain, just abaft the main-mast, a shot came through the water-ways
and glanced upward, killing four men who were standing by the side of
a gun, taking the last one in the head, and scattering his brains over
both of us. But this awful sight did not affect me half as much as
the death of the first poor fellow. I neither thought of nor noticed
anything but the working of the guns.”

During the action Midshipman Farragut was knocked down a ladder by the
body of a heavy man, who was killed. Farragut was only bruised.

The Admiral also tells an amusing story of a fight he had, on board
the English frigate, after the action, when they were taken on board,
prisoners. He saw an English midshipman who had captured a pet pig,
called Murphy, belonging to him, and he stoutly claimed it. The English
midshipman refused to surrender it, but his older messmates told
Farragut that if he licked the English midshipman he should have his
pig. A ring was formed, and, encouraged by shouts, of “Go it! my little
Yankee! if you can thrash Shorty you shall have your pig!” he went in
and licked the Englishman handsomely.

[Illustration]

BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN. SEPTEMBER 11TH, A. D. 1814.

The battle of Lake Champlain, or Plattsburg, as it is often called, was
one of the most important, in its results, of all fought during the war
with Great Britain which began in 1812.

At the same time that the naval battle was fought, the Americans,
under General Macomb, obtained a decided victory over the British land
forces, which had advanced, on the west side of Lake Champlain, as far
as Plattsburg.

Although Lake Champlain had been the scene of so many important events
in the previous wars on this continent, two years of the “War of 1812”
elapsed before anything of importance occurred there. Nor would it have
then been the scene of any stirring event, if English military men had
been capable of learning anything from previous operations there.

Towards the end of 1814 large reinforcements had arrived in Canada,
from England, and an army of twelve or fifteen thousand men was
collected in the vicinity of Montreal.

With this force the enemy intended an invasion of the northern counties
of New York; undeterred by the fate of General Burgoyne, whose route,
practically, they intended to follow.

In spite of the obstinacy and stupidity of the English military mind
during these operations, many people have supposed that this expedition
was not intended to be pushed very far into a country much more capable
of resistance than in Burgoyne’s time, but that the officers were
probably directed to penetrate as far as Crown Point and Ticonderoga,
perhaps with a view to attempts at further conquests in the spring.

Some thought that they hoped to reach Albany; a measure that would have
involved the loss of their whole force, as double the number of men
could hardly have accomplished such a feat in Burgoyne’s time, through
a sparsely settled country.

It is altogether probable that they intended to occupy a portion of
the frontier, in the expectation of turning the occupation to account
in the negotiations which were known to be impending; as the English
Commissioners soon after advanced a claim which would have the effect
of driving the Americans back from their ancient boundaries, with a
view to leaving to Great Britain the entire possession of the lakes.

In such an expedition as this, with Canada as a base, the command
of Champlain became of great importance, as it flanked the march of
the invading army for more than a hundred miles, and offered great
facilities for forwarding supplies, as well as for annoyance and
defence.

Until the year 1814 neither nation had had a force of any moment on
Lake Champlain; but the Americans had built a ship and a schooner,
during the previous winter and spring. When it was found that the
enemy had serious intentions, both by water and by land, the keel of a
brig was laid, and a number of “row-galleys,” or gun-boats, were also
constructed.

During this period the English were not idle. In addition to several
small vessels they already possessed on these waters, they built a
brig, and, as soon as she was in frame, laid the keel of a ship. The
latter vessel was to be of the greatest force and size possible for
those waters, and great care was taken to make her so. The American
brig, which was called the Eagle, was launched about the middle of
August, and the English ship, which was called the Confiance, on the
25th of the same month. As the English army was already collecting on
the frontier, the utmost exertions were made by both sides, and each
ship appeared on the lake as she was got ready.

Captain Thomas McDonough, who commanded the American naval force, was
an officer who, though young, had repeatedly distinguished himself
since he had entered the service, in the year 1800, being appointed
from the State of Delaware.

McDonough got out on the lake a few days before his adversary, and as
cruising, in the ordinary sense of the term, was impossible upon such
a long and narrow body of water, the American Captain advanced as far
as Plattsburg, the point selected for the defence against the invaders,
and anchored, on the 3d of September, on the flank of the American
troops, which occupied entrenchments at that place.

Previously to this the English had made an attempt to sink a vessel in
the mouth of the Otter Creek, to prevent the Americans from getting
their vessels out, but they were beaten off. Otter Creek is some
distance down the lake, on the Vermont side.

About this time Sir George Prevost, the English Commander-in-chief,
advanced against Plattsburg, then held by Brigadier General Macomb.
The latter had only fifteen hundred men fit for duty, while Sir Geo.
Prevost’s army was estimated at twelve thousand.

Prevost’s army was divided into four brigades, which were commanded by
Lieutenant General De Rottenberg, Major Generals Brisbane, Power and
Robinson, and Major General Baynes was Adjutant General.

With this formidably officered force Sir George Prevost advanced slowly
down the right shore of the lake, waiting for the flotilla to get ready
and to appear on his left flank.

From the 7th to the 11th of August the American skirmishers and
scouts kept the English advance well upon the alert, while the latter
were engaged in bringing up their battering trains, stores and
reinforcements. Some fighting took place amongst detached bodies, on
shore, but no move was made upon the water.

Cooper will be chiefly followed in the account of the battle which
took place upon the lake, although Roosevelt does even more justice to
McDonough than Cooper does. Like Cooper, too, Roosevelt ranks McDonough
as much higher in the scale of ability, as a naval commander, than
Perry, the commander on Lake Erie, while in regard to courage and
conduct under fire, their claims are undoubtedly equal.

The English naval Captain, Downie, late in command of the Montreal,
on Lake Ontario, had been sent by Sir James Yeo, the British naval
Commander-in-chief, to take the command on Lake Champlain. He came,
with the express understanding that he was not to come out until he
considered his vessels ready.

In one sense, neither the English nor the American vessels were in
a very forward state of preparation. The largest English vessel had
been in the water but sixteen days when she was brought into action.
The second vessel in size of the Americans had been launched but
thirty days when she was fought in the battle. In point of fact, the
American Eagle was ready for service but eight days before the English
Confiance. As all these vessels had little need of the stores supplied
to a sea-going ship, and as the action between them was fought at
anchor, they were, really, not much more than floating batteries.

But to illustrate the difficulties under which naval operations in
those parts were carried on, we may say that when Captain McDonough
first arrived, to build and fit out a squadron, he was so short of
skilled seamen that he was obliged to turn to and strop blocks, and do
other seaman’s work, with his own hands.

Ready-witted Yankee landsmen soon learned to do a great deal, and after
a time, seamen, in small numbers, were procured, such as had seen
powder burnt.

On the 6th of September Captain McDonough ordered his galleys to the
head of Plattsburg Bay, to annoy the British land forces, which they
cannonaded for two hours. The wind then came on to blow a gale, which
menaced the galleys with shipwreck, and they were ordered to retire.
The boat which carried the order was in charge of a midshipman named
Duncan, and it is supposed the enemy thought McDonough himself was in
the boat, about to join the galleys, for they concentrated a fire upon
it, and Mr. Duncan was severely wounded, losing an arm.

The general direction of Lake Champlain is north and south, but,
at a point called Cumberland Head, in coming south, the land bends
north again, forming Plattsburg Bay, which is a deep indentation of
the shore, that leaves a basin open to the southward, and which,
consequently, lies nearly parallel to the main lake. The east side of
this bay is protected by the long, narrow neck of land that terminates
in Cumberland Head. Its bottom, or northern end, and its western
shore, are encircled by the main land, while to the southward and
eastward is the entrance. Near the centre of the western shore the
Saranac enters the bay, and on both banks of that river stands the town
of Plattsburg.

About a mile and a half from Cumberland Head, in a southwesterly
direction, and quite near the western shore, is an extensive shoal and
a small, low island, which commands the approach to the bay in that
direction.

At this spot, called Crab Island, the naval hospital was established,
and a one-gun battery erected.

Captain McDonough had chosen an anchorage a little south of the outlet
of the Saranac. His vessels lay in a line parallel to the shore,
extending north and south, and distant from the western shore nearly
two miles. The last vessel to the southward was so near the shoal as
to prevent the English from passing that end of the line, while all
the American vessels lay out so much toward Cumberland Head that they
brought the enemy within reach of carronades, should he enter the bay
on that side.

The Eagle, Captain Henley, lay at the northern extremity of the
American line, and what might, during the battle which followed, have
been called its head; the wind being to the northward and eastward. The
Saratoga, Captain McDonough’s own vessel, was second; the Ticonderoga,
Lieutenant Commanding Cassin, the third; and the Preble, Lieutenant
Budd, last. The Preble lay a little further south than the pitch of
Cumberland Head.

The first of the vessels just mentioned was a brig of twenty guns and
150 men, all told; the second, a ship of twenty-six guns, and 212 men;
the third, a schooner of seventeen guns, and 110 men; and the last, a
sloop of seven guns and 30 men.

The metal of all these vessels, as well as of those of the enemy,
was unusually heavy, there being no swell in the lake to make a heavy
armament dangerous.

The Saratoga mounted eight long 24s, six 42s, and twelve 32-pound
carronades. The Eagle had eight long 18s, and twelve 32-pound
carronades. The Ticonderoga had four long 18s, eight long 12s, and four
32-pound carronades, beside one 18-pound columbiad. The Preble had
seven long 9s.

In addition to these four vessels, the Americans had ten galleys or
gun-boats--six large and four small. Each of the large ones mounted a
long 24 and an eighteen-pound columbiad, while the smaller ones had
each a long 12.

The galleys had, on an average, about thirty-five men each.

The total force of the Americans consisted, therefore, of fourteen
vessels, of all classes, mounting 102 guns, and containing about eight
hundred and fifty men, including officers, and a small detachment of
soldiers, who did duty as marines, none of that corps having been sent
to Lake Champlain.

To complete his order of battle, Captain McDonough directed two of the
galleys to keep in shore, and a little to windward of the Eagle, to
sustain the head of the line. One or two more were to lie opposite to
the interval between the Eagle and the Saratoga; a few opposite the
interval between the Saratoga and Ticonderoga; and two opposite the
interval between the Ticonderoga and the Preble. If any order had been
given to cover the rear of the line it was not carried out.

The Americans were, consequently, formed in two lines, distant from
each other about forty yards, the large vessels at anchor, and the
galleys under their sweeps. Owing to the latter circumstance, the inner
line soon got to be very irregular, “some of the galleys pressing
boldly forward, while others were less impelled by the ardor of their
commanders,” which is certainly a good way of putting it.

The known force of the enemy was materially greater than that of the
Americans.

The largest English vessel, the Confiance, commanded by Captain Downie
in person, had the gun-deck of a heavy frigate, and mounted on it an
armament of thirty long 24s.

She had a spacious top-gallant-forecastle, and a poop which came as
far as the mizzen-mast. On her forecastle she mounted one long 24,
on a circle, and four heavy carronades; and on the poop, two heavy
carronades, making an armament of thirty-seven guns, in all. Her
complement of men is supposed to have been more than three hundred.

The next vessel of the enemy was the Linnet, a brig of sixteen long
12s, with a crew of about one hundred men.

They had two sloops; the Chubb and the Finch. The first carried
ten 18-pound carronades, and one long 6; the second six 18-pound
carronades, one 18-pound columbiad, and four long 6s. Each of these
sloops had about forty men.

To these four vessels were added a force of galleys, or gun-boats,
in number, either twelve or thirteen; Captain McDonough gives the
latter number; Captain Downie, the former. Thus, Downie’s whole force
consisted of sixteen or seventeen vessels, mounting, in all, one
hundred and fifteen or sixteen guns, and manned by about one thousand
men.

On the third of September the British gun-boats sailed from Isle
aux Noix, to cover the left flank of their army, then marching on
Plattsburg. The boats were under the orders of Captain Pring, and on
the 4th that officer took possession of Isle aux Motte, where he
constructed a battery, and landed some stores for the troops.

On the 8th, Captain Downie arrived, with the four large English
vessels, and remained at anchor until the 11th. At daylight of that day
the whole force weighed anchor and proceeded, in a body.

The American guard-boat pulled in, soon after sunrise, and announced
the approach of the enemy. As the wind was fair--a good working breeze
from the northeast--the English came down the lake rapidly, and Captain
McDonough ordered the ships cleared for action, and preparations made
to fight at anchor.

Eight bells were struck in the American squadron as the upper sails of
the British vessels were seen passing along the neck of land in the
main lake, on their way to double Cumberland Head, in order to enter
the bay. They had the wind a little on the port quarter, the booms of
their small vessels swinging out to starboard. The Finch led, followed
by the Confiance, Linnet and Chubb, while the gunboats, which, like
those of the Americans, each carried two latine sails, followed without
much order; keeping just clear of the shore.

The first vessel which came round the head was a sloop, which is
reported to have carried a company of amateurs, and which took no part
in the engagement. She kept well to leeward, standing down towards Crab
Island, and was soon lost to observation in the events which followed.
It is this vessel, undoubtedly, which has made the difference in the
numbers of the enemy reported by the two commanders.

[Illustration: McDONOUGH’S VICTORY ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN.]

The Finch came round next; and soon after the other large vessels of
the enemy opened from behind the land, and hauled by the wind, in a
line abreast; lying to until their galleys could join. The latter
proceeded to leeward and formed in the same manner as the larger
vessels. The two squadrons were now in plain view of each other, and
distant about three miles.

As soon as their gun-boats were in their stations, and the different
commanders had received their orders, the English filled away, on
the starboard tack, and headed in towards the American vessels, in a
line abreast--the Chubb to windward and the Finch to leeward--most of
their gunboats being to leeward of the Finch. The movements of the
latter vessel had been a little singular ever since she led round the
Head--for she is said not to have hove to, as the rest did, but to have
run off with the wind, halfway to Crab Island, then to have tacked, and
got into her station after the other vessels had filled.

This movement was either to reconnoitre, or to menace the American rear.

The enemy were now standing in, close-hauled, the Chubb looking well to
windward of the Eagle, the vessel which lay at the head of the American
line. The Linnet was laying her course for the head of the same vessel;
and the Confiance was intending to fetch far enough ahead of the
Saratoga to lay that ship athwart hawse. The Finch, with the gun-boats,
was standing for the Ticonderoga and Preble.

Captain McDonough had taken up his anchorage with the eye of a seaman.
As has been said, his line could not be doubled, on account of the
shoal; there was not room to anchor on his broadside out of reach of
his carronades, which formed so large a part of his armament; and in
order to close, it was necessary, let the wind blow as it might, to
stand in upon his vessels bows on. This was an experiment not rashly to
be attempted; yet the English, accustomed to see it succeed in their
European contests, did not hesitate to adopt it on this occasion, most
probably presuming upon their knowledge of the large proportion of
short guns in their adversaries’ vessels.

The Americans were, as a matter of course, anchored with springs. But,
not content with this, McDonough had laid a kedge broad off on each bow
of the Saratoga, and brought their hawsers in upon the two quarters,
letting them hang in bights under the water. This timely precaution
really gained him the victory.

As the enemy filled away the American vessels sprung their broadsides
to bear, and then, for a few minutes, the solemn silence which always
prevails before a naval action, in a well-disciplined ship, was only
broken by the footsteps of the vigilant officers.

Suddenly the Eagle fired, in quick succession, the four long eighteens
in broadside. In clearing the decks of the Saratoga some hen-coops were
thrown overboard, and the poultry turned out, to run at large about the
decks. Startled by the reports of these guns, a young cock flew upon a
gun-slide, clapped his wings, and crowed.

At this animating sound the men spontaneously gave three cheers.
This little incident relieved the solemn time which elapsed between
preparation and combat, and had an especially powerful influence over
the seamen--so apt to be swayed by signs and omens.

Although the enemy’s galleys now opened fire, McDonough refrained from
giving the order to reply, for it was evident that the Eagle’s guns,
which continued to try the range, did not yet reach. As soon, however,
as it was seen that her shot told, McDonough himself sighted a long
twenty-four, and the gun was fired. The shot struck the Confiance near
her hawse-hole, and passed the whole length of her deck, killing and
wounding several men, and carrying away her wheel. It was the signal
for the Americans to open with all their long guns, under which the
English flag-ship especially suffered.

Still they steadily held their course, in the most gallant manner,
confident that if they could once get their ships into the desired
position, the great weight of metal of the Confiance would decide the
fortune of the day.

But he had over-estimated his own powers of endurance, and, probably,
under-estimated the force of the Americans. The anchors of the
Confiance were hanging by the stoppers, in readiness to let go, and
her port bower was soon cut away by shot, as well as a spare anchor in
the port fore-chains. In short, after a long endurance of a galling
fire from the Americans, the wind began to baffle, and Captain Downie
found himself obliged to anchor while still distant a quarter of a mile
from the American line. The helm of the Confiance was put a-port; the
ship shot into the wind, and a kedge was let go, while the ship took a
sheer, and brought up with her starboard bower. In doing this her kedge
was fouled, and became of no use. In coming to, her halliards were let
run, and she hauled up her courses.

At this time the Linnet and the Chubb were still standing in, further
to the westward, and the former, when her guns bore, fired a broadside
at the Saratoga. The Linnet soon after anchored somewhat nearer than
the Confiance; getting an excellent position, forward of the Eagle’s
beam.

The Chubb kept under way, intending, if possible, to rake the
American line. The Finch, by means of her sweeps, got abreast of the
Ticonderoga, and was supported by the gun-boats.

The English vessels came to in very handsome style, and, although the
whole American line was now firing, the Confiance did not discharge
a single gun until she was secured. As soon as this was done her
battery was manned, and her side appeared one sheet of flame, as she
fired her whole broadside at once, mostly at the Saratoga. The effect
of this broadside, from sixteen long 24s, double-shotted, in perfectly
smooth water, at point blank range, and coolly sighted, was terrible
for the little ship which received it. Half her crew were prostrated,
although many were knocked down who had received no real injury, but
about forty men, or near one fifth of her complement were either killed
or wounded, on board the Saratoga, by this one broadside. The hatches
had been covered, as usual, but the decks were so encumbered by the
bodies that it was found necessary to take off the gratings, and pass
them below. For a moment the men seemed appalled, but then they resumed
their fire as gallantly as ever. Among the killed by this broadside was
Mr. Gamble, her First Lieutenant. He was on his knees, sighting the
bow-gun, when a shot entered the port, split the quoin, drove a portion
of it against his chest, and laid him dead, without breaking the skin.

Captain Downie was, a few moments later, killed by an American shot,
without breaking the skin, as a dismounted gun struck him in the groin.

By the loss of Mr. Gamble but one lieutenant, and he an acting one,
was left in the Saratoga. On the part of the principal vessels
the battle now settled into a steady, animated, but, as guns were
injured, a gradually decreasing cannonade. The Chubb, while manœuvring
near the head of the American line, received a broadside from the
Eagle, which crippled her, and she drifted down between the opposing
vessels, until near the Saratoga, which ship fired a shot into her,
and she immediately struck. A midshipman was sent in a boat, to take
possession. The young officer hove the prize a line, and towed her
down astern and inshore of the Saratoga; anchoring her near the mouth
of the Saranac.

This first success occurred within a quarter of an hour after the enemy
had anchored, and afforded great encouragement to our people; although
they well knew that on the heavily armed Confiance depended the fate
of the day. The Chubb had suffered much, and nearly half her ship’s
company had been killed or wounded.

After about an hour’s fighting, the Finch was also driven out of her
station by the Ticonderoga, and, being crippled, she drifted down upon
Crab Island Shoal, where, after receiving a shot or two from the gun
mounted in battery, she struck, and was taken possession of by the
invalids from the hospital.

At the end of the line the British galleys early made every effort to
come to close action, and soon after the Finch had drifted away they
forced the Preble out of the American line, that vessel cutting her
cable, and shifting her anchorage to a station considerably inshore,
where she rendered no more service that day.

The rear of the American line was certainly its weakest point; and
having compelled the little Preble to retreat, the enemy’s galleys
immediately attacked the vessel which was next ahead in the line, the
Ticonderoga.

This schooner was not only more powerful than the Preble, but she was
nobly fought by Lieutenant Cassin, her commander, who coolly walked the
taffrail, where he could watch the movements of the enemy’s galleys,
amidst showers of canister and grape.

He fired, in return, bags of musket balls, and other light missiles,
which kept the British gun-boats at a respectful distance. Many of the
latter were very gallantly fought, and several times approached quite
near, with the evident intention of boarding, but the steadiness of the
Ticonderoga’s fire beat them back, and completely covered the rear of
the line for the rest of the day. So desperate were some of the attacks
that the galleys got up within boat-hook’s length of the schooner.

While the fight was thus progressing in the rear of the American
line, the other extremity was suffering severely. The English vessel,
the Linnet, had a capital position, and was most admirably fought,
while the Eagle (which received all her fire and part of that of the
Confiance), having had her springs shot away, found herself so situated
as to be unable to bring her guns fairly to bear upon either of her
opponents. Captain Henley had, previous to the engagement, hoisted
his top-sail yards, with the sails stoppered, to the mast-heads. He
now cut his cable, sheeted home his top-sails, cast the brig, and ran
down and anchored by the stern, between the Saratoga and Ticonderoga,
necessarily a little inshore of both. Here he used his port battery,
which was fresh, upon the Confiance and the gun-boats. But this
movement left the Saratoga exposed to nearly the whole fire of the
Linnet, which brig now sprung her broadside so as to partially rake the
American ship.

Soon after this important change at the head of the line the fire of
the two ships began to materially diminish, as gun after gun became
disabled. The Saratoga, in particular, had all her long guns disabled
by shot; while most of her carronades were dismounted, either from the
enemy’s fire, or from a disposition in the men to overcharge them,
which the paucity of officers rendered it difficult to prevent. At
length, but a single carronade remained in the starboard battery,
and on firing it, the navel-bolt broke, and the over-heated and
over-charged gun not only flew off the carriage, but down the main
hatch.

This left the ship of the American commanding officer, in the middle of
the action, without an available gun. The only thing to be done was to
immediately attempt to wind the ship.

A stream anchor which was suspended astern was let go. The men then
clapped on the hawser that led to the starboard quarter, and brought
the ship’s stern up over the kedge; but here she hung, there not being
sufficient wind or current to force her bows round. A line had been
bent to the bight in the stream cable, with a view to help wind the
ship, and she now rode by the kedge, and this line, with her stern
exposed to the steady and well directed fire of the Linnet. The port
battery having been manned, Captain McDonough ordered all the men from
the guns, where they were uselessly suffering, and sent them forward.
By rowsing on the line, the ship was at length got so far round that
the port aftermost gun would bear upon the Confiance, and it was
instantly manned, and began to fire. The next gun was used in the same
manner; but it was soon apparent that the ship could be got no further
round, for she was nearly end on to the wind. At this critical moment
Mr. Brum, the Master, thought of the hawser which had been led to the
port quarter before the action commenced. It was got forward, under the
bows, and passed aft to the starboard quarter, when the ship’s stern
was immediately sprung to the westward, so as to bring all her port
guns to bear on the English ship with immense effect.

As soon as the preparations to wind the Saratoga were made, the
Confiance attempted to perform the same evolution. Her springs were
hauled on, but they merely forced the ship ahead; and, having borne
the fresh broadside of the American until she had scarcely a gun with
which to return the fire, and failing in all her efforts to get round,
her commanding officer lowered his flag, about two hours and a quarter
after the commencement of the action.

By hauling again upon the starboard hawser, the Saratoga’s broadside
was immediately sprung to bear upon the Linnet, which brig struck, in
about fifteen minutes after her consort.

At this moment, the enemy’s galleys had been driven back nearly or
quite half a mile. They were irregularly scattered, and setting fast to
leeward, while they kept up only a desultory firing. As soon as they
found the large vessels had submitted, they ceased firing, and lowered
their colors; and not a single British ensign was left flying in the
bay, out of the sixteen or seventeen which had entered it so gallantly
less than three hours before.

Although this action was fought at anchor, it may be truly said that it
was won as much by seamanship as by downright hard fighting.

The foregoing account, as has been said, is taken principally from
Cooper, whose account of this action is acknowledged, on all sides, to
be entirely impartial; while many capable persons have found fault with
his account of Perry’s victory on Lake Erie.

In the long and bloody conflict of Plattsburg the Saratoga had
twenty-eight killed and twenty-nine wounded; or more than one-fourth of
all on board. The Eagle had thirteen killed and twenty wounded; about
the same proportionate loss. The Ticonderoga had six killed and six
wounded. The Preble had two killed. The Saratoga was hulled fifty-five
times, and the Eagle thirty-nine times.

After the first destructive fire of the broadside of the Confiance, her
fire became less formidable, the shot passing higher at each discharge.
By her second broadside nearly all the hammocks in the Saratoga’s
nettings were cut to pieces; and it was seen, as the battle advanced,
that the English shot cut the standing rigging further and further from
the deck.

Few men were hurt, after the first fire, by anything but grape, or
by the shot of the well-fought Linnet. This was a curious fact,
considering the smooth water, and the ships being always at the same
distance. The American officers came to the conclusion that the enemy
had levelled his guns to point blank range, and that the quoins were
not properly replaced, after each discharge had loosened them.

When the Confiance made her abortive attempt to wind, her decks were
in great confusion, and after the battle, when the charges of her
guns were drawn, one gun was found with a canvas bag, holding two
round-shot, rammed home and wadded, without any powder; another with
two cartridges and no shot; and a third with a wad below the cartridge.

According to the report of the Captain of the Linnet, dated September
12th, the Confiance lost forty-one killed and forty wounded. At a later
date the English themselves stated the number of her wounded at 83.
This included the slightly hurt, no doubt; and would make her total
loss one hundred and twenty-four; and that number was thought to be
short of the truth.

The Linnet is reported to have had ten killed and fourteen wounded; the
Chubb six killed and ten wounded; while the Finch was reported by the
English to have had but two men wounded. No American official report of
the casualties on board the English vessels was ever given, or at least
published, nor was any report, of any kind, given, of the loss in the
English galleys, which were well up, during the action, and must have
suffered severely.

As soon as the Linnet struck a Lieutenant was sent to take possession
of the Confiance. She was found to be in a much worse condition than
her special opponent, the Saratoga. The Confiance had been hulled one
hundred and five times, had nearly if not quite half her people killed
and wounded, and her battery entirely disabled.

As the boarding officer was passing along the deck of the prize he
accidentally ran against a lock-string, and thereby fired one of the
Confiance’s starboard guns, which sent its shot towards Cumberland
Head. Up to this moment the English galleys had been slowly drifting
to leeward, with their colors down, apparently waiting to be taken
possession of; but at the discharge of the gun, which they appear to
have understood as a signal, one or two of them began to move slowly
off, and were soon after followed by the others, each pulling very few
sweeps. It appears that they did not hoist their colors again.

Captain McDonough made signal for the American galleys to follow; but
it was found that their men were needed at the pumps of the larger
vessels, to keep them from sinking, the water being found over the
berth-deck of the Linnet. The signal to chase was then revoked.

As there was not a mast among the larger vessels which would bear any
canvas, the English galleys escaped, going off, at first, slowly and
irregularly, as if distrusting their own liberty.

The turning point in the action just described was the winding of the
Saratoga, so successfully accomplished, and next in importance was the
defence of the rear of the line by the Ticonderoga, under Lieutenant
Cassin. Once or twice the nearest vessels thought his vessel in flames,
in consequence of the awful rapidity of her fire.

The Saratoga was twice on fire, from hot shot thrown from the
Confiance, and her spanker was nearly consumed. The English flag-ship
had a party of artillerists on board and a furnace for heating hot shot.

Captain McDonough, whose reputation as an accomplished officer was
before high, gained a great accession of reputation from this day’s
proceedings. His disposition for receiving the attack was highly
judicious and seamanlike. By the manner in which he anchored his
vessels, with the shoals so near the rear of his line as to cover that
extremity, and the land of Cumberland Head so near his broadside as
necessarily to bring the enemy within reach of his carronades, he made
all his force completely available. The English were not quite near
enough to give to carronades their full effect, but this disadvantage
was unavoidable, the assailing party having, of course, the choice of
the distance.

“The personal deportment of Captain McDonough in this engagement was
the subject of general admiration in his little squadron. His coolness
was undisturbed, throughout all the trying scenes on board his own
ship, and, although lying against a vessel of double the force and
nearly double the tonnage of the Saratoga, he met and resisted her
attack with a constancy that seemed to set defeat at defiance.” The
winding of the Saratoga, under such circumstances, exposed, as she was,
to the raking fire of the Confiance and Linnet, especially the latter,
was a bold, seamanlike, and masterly measure, that required unusual
decision and fortitude to imagine and execute.

Most men would have believed that, without a single gun on the side
engaged, a fourth of their people cut down, and their ship a wreck,
enough injury had been received to justify submission; but McDonough
found the means to secure a victory, even in the desperate situation of
the Saratoga.

Captain Downie’s personal conduct and gallantry were beyond censure,
yet the prudence and the nautical merits of his mode of attack have
been much censured.

The Confiance had been built in so short a time, and by exertions so
great, as to put it out of the power of the Americans to construct
a vessel of her size in sufficient season to meet her, and it would
be accusing the enemy of imbecility to suppose that, after the known
result of many combats, he had not made his vessel of ample force to
ensure victory.

Few naval men will deny that a ship with the gun-deck dimensions, metal
and battery of a 44, ought to have been fully equal, at least, to
contend with two such vessels as the Saratoga and Eagle. This admitted,
it follows that Downie had much the superior force.

The plan of the campaign that was destroyed by this defeat; the high
objects in view; the fact that the English were the assailants, and
that they could not but know the force they were to attack, together
with all the attendant circumstances, were so many assurances that the
battle of Plattsburg Bay was fought, on the part of the enemy, with a
confidence of victory only justified by this known advantage. The very
name given to their largest ship was a pledge to this effect.

Sir James Yeo, whose command extended to Lake Champlain, complained
that Captain Downie had been hurried into action by the Governor
General, before he was prepared; but he did not complain of an
insufficiency of force. That Downie went into action before his own
crew and vessel had been long subject to drill and preparation, is
true; but McDonough was laboring under precisely the same disadvantage.

These are the incidents and drawbacks peculiar to sudden enterprises,
and they must be met by the resources of true seamen.

The Constitution took the Guerrière with a crew that had been acting
together but little more than a month; and she was manœuvring
before the English squadron, off New York--a much more delicate
business--within five days of the time that a large proportion of her
crew had joined her.

Captain Downie’s professional character, as well as his published
declarations, prove that he considered the Confiance ready to meet an
enemy. Sir James Yeo, with greater reason than he had for his former
complaint, said that Captain Downie stood square into the bay to make
his attack--and by this exposed himself to a raking fire, which, no
doubt, contributed to the loss of the day.

The leading into a hostile squadron bows on had frequently been
practiced by the English in European waters, with comparative impunity.
But it was an eminently hazardous experiment to make under the guns of
an American man-of-war. Still, Downie’s bearing was highly gallant, and
assuring to his ships’ companies. The weatherly position he attained
was much in his favor; and, judging from the force of his own vessel,
could he have got the berth he aimed at, there is great reason to think
he would have been successful. That he was foiled, must be attributed
to the immovable steadiness, cool deliberation, and admirable fire of
the people he assailed.

Although many of the American officers were wounded, but two
commissioned officers were killed. These were Mr. Gamble, whose death
has already been alluded to; and Mr. Stansbury, the first lieutenant of
the Ticonderoga.

Mr. Stansbury suddenly disappeared from the bulwarks, forward, while
superintending some duty with the springs. Two days after the action
his body rose to the surface, near his own ship, and it was found to
have been cut in two by a round shot.

Many officers were knocked down, during the engagement, without having
blood drawn. At one moment there was a cry on board the Saratoga,
that Captain McDonough was killed. He was lying on his face, on the
quarter-deck, nearly senseless, and it was two or three minutes before
he recovered. During most of the action he sighted a favorite gun, and,
while bending his body to sight it, a shot cut the spanker boom in two,
letting the spar fall upon his back, a blow which might easily have
proved fatal.

In a few minutes the cry that “the Commodore” was killed was again
heard. This time McDonough was lying on the deck, between two guns,
covered with blood, and again nearly senseless. A shot had driven the
head of the captain of his favorite gun in upon him, and knocked him
into the scuppers. He soon recovered, as the blood turned out to be
that of the unfortunate man.

Mr. Brum, the Master, a venerable old seaman, while engaged in
winding the ship, had a large splinter driven so near his body that
it actually stripped off his clothing. He was thought to be dead,
but soon recovered, regained his feet, and, making an apron of his
pocket-handkerchief, coolly went to work again at the springs.

A few months after the battle this veteran died; as it was thought,
from the injury.

Lieutenant Vallette had a shot-box on which he was standing, knocked
from under his feet; and he, also, was once knocked down by the head of
a seaman, and at about the same time received a severe splinter wound.

In short, very few escaped altogether; and in this desperate fight it
appears to have been agreed, on both sides, to call no man wounded who
could keep out of the hospital. Mr. Smith, the First Lieutenant of the
Eagle, was severely wounded; but returned to his quarters, after his
wound was dressed.

On the part of the enemy, beside Captain Downie, several officers were
killed, and three or four were wounded.

Beside the usual medal from Congress for a successful engagement,
Captain McDonough received compliments and gifts from several States,
and was promoted.

The Legislature of New York presented him with a small estate on
Cumberland Head, which overlooked the scene of his triumphs.

His officers and crews met with the customary acknowledgments, and the
country generally rated the victory by the side of that of Lake Erie.

The Navy, best able to judge of all the circumstances, has always
placed the battle of Plattsburg Bay among the very highest of its
claims to glory.

The consequences of the victory were immediate, and very important.

During the naval action, Sir Geo. Prevost had skirmished in front
of the American entrenchments, and was evidently upon the point of
bringing up his overwhelming force for a more serious attack. As soon,
however, as he ascertained the fate of the British squadron, he made a
precipitate and most unmilitary retreat; abandoning much of his heavy
artillery, stores, and supplies; and from that moment, till the end of
the war, the northern frontier was cleared of the enemy.

Commodore McDonough died, in 1825, of consumption, at the age of 42,
while in command of the Mediterranean squadron, with his flag in the
Constitution.

CONSTITUTION IN ACTION WITH CYANE AND LEVANT. 1815.

This remarkable action has always excited great interest among naval
men, on account of the nautical ability displayed by Captain Stewart,
and the very capital manner in which his officers and men seconded him,
not only during the action itself, but in his subsequent escape from a
superior force.

In the year 1813, during the war with Great Britain, the frigate
Constitution (that favorite and most useful ship, already celebrated
for her capture of the Guerrière, and for her remarkable escape from
the pursuit of an English squadron) was found to be so decayed as to
require extensive repairs. Her crew was therefore transferred to the
Lakes, and when she was again ready for sea, a new one was shipped for
her, and Captain Stewart was ordered to her command.

Charles Stewart was born in Philadelphia, in July, 1778. Going to sea
in the merchant service at the age of thirteen, he rose to the command
of an East Indiaman while still a youth. Upon the organization of the
Navy, in 1798, he was appointed a Lieutenant. After seeing considerable
active service in the West Indies, during which, in command of
the schooner Experiment, he captured three French privateers, he
went to the Mediterranean, in 1802, as first lieutenant of the
Constellation. Here he saw service against Tripoli. The next year he
had command of the brig Syren, and convoyed the party, in the ketch
Intrepid, which destroyed the frigate Philadelphia. After continued
service against the Tripolitans he was named the Senior Master
Commandant, in 1804. Returning home, he was promoted to Captain, and
for some time employed in New York in superintending the construction
of gun-boats, after which he returned to the merchant service for
several years. During the war of 1812 he commanded the Constellation
and the Constitution.

[Illustration:

LEVANT.

CONSTITUTION.

CYANE.

CAPTURE OF THE CYANE AND LEVANT BY THE CONSTITUTION.]

After the war he was long and honorably employed, both at sea and on
shore, and was retired as Senior Commodore, in 1856, at the age of 78.
In 1862 he was made a Rear Admiral, on the Retired List. He died at
Bordentown, New Jersey, November 6th, 1869, aged 91, having been the
senior officer of the Navy for 17 years, and having been 71 years in
the service.

The repairs of the Constitution occupied so much time that Stewart was
not able to put to sea until the winter of 1814, when he made a cruise
down our Southern coast and through the West Indies.

On her way from the Caribbean Sea she fell in with and chased the
Pique, an English 32, which escaped her in the night; but she soon
after captured the English man-of-war schooner Pictou, 14, and several
merchantmen. When the frigate arrived on the American coast she was
seen by two British frigates which were cruising in company, and chased
into Marblehead; but shortly after managed to get out again and reach
Boston.

About the middle of December she left Boston on another cruise and ran
off to Bermuda, and thence to the neighborhood of Lisbon. Not finding
either an armed enemy or a valuable prize, she next went into the Bay
of Biscay, but with a like want of success.

Again she returned to the vicinity of Lisbon, and cruised for some time
in the very high road of commerce, but only took one or two prizes, of
very moderate value. During this time she was in sight of the British
ship Elizabeth, 74, yet the state of wind and weather prevented them
from coming in collision.

Finding nothing to reward a further stay off Lisbon, Captain Stewart,
on the 20th of February, 1815, ordered the helm put up, and ran off,
south-west, about sixty miles. At one P. M. of that day a strange
sail was seen on the port bow, and the Constitution was hauled up two
or three points, and sail made, in chase. The stranger was soon made
out to be a ship; and, half an hour later, a second vessel was seen,
further to leeward, which was soon ascertained to be another ship.

The Constitution held her course, all three vessels being upon a
bowline, or close hauled, until 4 P. M., when the nearest of the
strange ships made a signal to the one to leeward, and shortly after
kept away and ran down toward her consort, who was about eight miles to
leeward.

No doubt was now entertained, on board the Constitution, that the
strange sails were enemies. The nearest ship had the appearance of a
small frigate, and the vessel to leeward that of a large sloop-of-war.

The first was seen to be carrying studding-sails on both sides, while
the second was running off under short canvas, evidently waiting for
her consort to close.

Captain Stewart came to the conclusion that they were going to try
to escape, and were keeping away on their best point of sailing
until nightfall, when it would be comparatively easy to dodge him.
He, therefore, crowded upon the Constitution every sail that would
draw, with a view to getting the nearest vessel under his guns.
In the course of the afternoon the Constitution carried away her
main-royal-mast, a defective spar, and the chase began to gain. Stewart
now fired a few times from his chase guns, but finding that the shot
fell short, soon ceased.

By half-past five it was seen that it was impossible to prevent the
strange sails from forming a junction, and the Constitution, then a
little more than three miles distant from the furthest ship, cleared
for action. Ten minutes later the two strange sails passed within
hail of each other, and, coming by the wind, with their heads to the
northward, hauled up their courses, and were evidently clearing to
engage. Soon they both suddenly made sail, close by the wind, evidently
in order to weather upon the American frigate. But perceiving that the
latter was closing very fast, they again hauled up their courses and
formed upon the wind, the smallest ship ahead.

By six in the evening the Constitution had them within gun-shot, and
she then showed her ensign. The other ships at once set the English
colors. Five minutes later the American ship ranged up abeam of the
sternmost and largest English vessel, at about a cable’s length
distance, passing ahead with her sails lifting, until the three ships
formed nearly an equilateral triangle, the Constitution being to
windward. In this favorable and masterly position the action began, the
three keeping up a hot and unceasing fire for about fifteen minutes,
when that of the English sensibly slackened.

The sea was now covered with a dense cloud of smoke, and Stewart
ceased firing. Soon the smoke cleared away, and the moon having risen,
the leading ship of the enemy was seen under the Constitution’s lee
beam, while the sternmost was luffing up, evidently intending to tack,
and cross the American frigate’s stern. Delivering a broadside at
the ship abreast of her, the Constitution threw her main and mizzen
top-sails, with the top-gallant-sails set, flat back, shook everything
forward, and let fly her jib-sheets, so that she backed swiftly astern,
compelling the English vessel to fill away, in order to avoid being
raked. This ship now attempted to tack, to cross the Constitution’s
fore-foot, when the latter filled, boarded her fore-tack, shot ahead,
and forced her antagonist to wear under a raking broadside, and to
run off to leeward to escape the weight of the American fire. The
Constitution, perceiving that the largest ship was wearing also, wore
in her turn, and crossing her stern, raked her with effect, although
the Englishman came by the wind immediately, and delivered her port
broadside. As the Constitution then ranged up close on her weather
quarter, she struck. A lieutenant was at once sent to take possession,
the prize proving to be the British ship Cyane, Capt. Falcon.

The other ship, which had run off to leeward, had no intention of
abandoning her consort, but had been forced out of the fight by the
crippled condition of her running rigging, as well as by the weight of
the Constitution’s fire. She was ignorant of the capture of the Cyane,
and, at the end of about an hour, having repaired damages, she hauled
up to look for her consort, and met the American frigate coming down in
quest of her. It was nearly nine o’clock before the two ships crossed
each other, on opposite tacks, the Constitution to windward; and the
English sloop pluckily exchanged broadsides with her, as they passed.
She very naturally found the Constitution’s fire too heavy for her, and
immediately bore up, in doing which she got a raking broadside.

The Constitution then boarded her fore-tack, and made sail after her,
keeping up a very effective chasing fire from her two bow guns, nearly
every shot of which told. The two ships were, indeed, so near each
other that the ripping of the enemy’s planks, as the shot struck, was
heard on board the American ship. There was no chance for the English
sloop, which was unable to stand this treatment very long, and at 10 P.
M. he came by the wind, fired a lee gun, and hauled down his ensign.
When taken possession of she was found to be the Levant, 18, the Hon.
Capt. Douglas.

During this cruise the Constitution mounted fifty-two guns; and she
had a complement of about four hundred and seventy officers and men,
a few of whom were absent in a prize. The Cyane was a frigate-built
ship, that properly rated twenty-four guns, although in Steele’s list
she appeared as only a twenty. But she mounted twenty-two 32-pound
carronades on her gun deck, and ten 18-pound carronades and two chase
guns on her quarter deck and forecastle; making thirty-four guns in all.

The Levant was a new ship, rated as an eighteen. She mounted eighteen
32-pound carronades; a shifting 18 on her top-gallant forecastle, and
two chase guns; making twenty-one in all.

There were taken from the Cyane 168 prisoners, of whom 26 were wounded.
The precise number of killed on board of her was never ascertained.
Captain Stewart, probably judging from an examination of her
muster-roll, computed it at twelve; while the English accounts differ,
some putting the killed at only four, and others at six. Probably it
was between the highest and lowest estimates. Her regular crew was
about one hundred and eighty-five, all told; and there is no reason to
believe that it was not nearly full. Captain Stewart supposed that she
had about one hundred and eighty on board during the action.

The Levant’s regular complement is said to have been one hundred and
thirty, all told; but a statement was published in Barbadoes, where
some of her officers shortly after went, that there were a good many
supernumeraries in both the English vessels, who were going to the
Western Islands, to bring away a ship that was building there.

Stewart supposed the Levant to have had one hundred and fifty-six men
in the action, of whom he believed twenty-three to have been killed and
sixteen wounded. This estimate may have been too high, but the exact
truth was never known.

It is believed that no English official account of this action was ever
published, but the Barbadoes statement makes the joint loss of the two
ships ten killed and twenty-eighty wounded. Other English accounts make
it forty-one in all. Captain Stewart’s account of the wounded must
certainly have been correct, whatever may have been the other estimates
he made. Their loss, when exposed to the heavy and destructive fire of
the Constitution, handled with the skill that that frigate was, could
not fail to be very considerable.

The Constitution had three men killed and twelve wounded.

By midnight of the 20th the frigate was ready for another engagement.
She was not very much cut up for, although it was nearly four hours
from the time the action began until the Levant struck, the actual
fighting did not occupy three-quarters of an hour.

Considering that it was a night action the execution, on both sides,
was remarkable; the English firing much better than usual.

The Constitution was hulled oftener in this action, than in both her
previous battles, although she suffered less in crew than in the combat
she had with the Java. She had not an officer hurt.

The manner in which Captain Stewart handled his ship on this occasion
was the subject of praise among nautical men, of all nations, as it
was an unusual thing for a single ship to engage two opponents and
avoid being raked. So far from this occurring to the Constitution,
however, she actually raked both her opponents, and the manner in
which she backed and filled, in the smoke, forcing her two antagonists
down to leeward, when they were endeavoring to cross her stern, or her
fore-foot, is as brilliant manœuvring as any recorded in naval annals.

It is due to a gallant enemy to say that Captain Douglas commanded the
entire respect of the Americans by his intrepidity and perseverance
in standing by his consort. The necessity of securing possession of
the Cyane employed the Constitution for some time, and gave the Levant
an opportunity of making off; but of this he nobly refused to avail
himself.

Captain Stewart proceeded, with his two prizes, to Porto Praya, in
Saint Jago, Cape de Verdes, where he arrived on the 10th of March. At
this place a vessel was chartered for a cartel, and more than a hundred
of the prisoners were landed, to assist in fitting her for sea.

On the 11th of March, at a little after noon, while a party from the
Constitution was absent in a cutter, to bring the cartel close down
to the frigate, Mr. Shubrick, who was acting as First Lieutenant, was
walking the quarter-deck, when his attention was attracted by a hurried
exclamation from one of the English midshipmen, that a large ship was
in the offing. A severe reprimand, in a low tone, followed from one
of the English Captains. On looking over the quarter Mr. Shubrick
ascertained the cause. The sea, outside the roads, was covered with a
heavy fog, which did not, however, rise very high, so that above it the
upper sails of a large vessel were visible.

She was close hauled, on the wind, standing in shore, and evidently
coming into the roads.

After examining the strange sail the Lieutenant went below and reported
to Captain Stewart. The latter at once remarked that, from the
Lieutenant’s description, she must be either an English frigate or a
large Indiaman; and he directed all hands to be called, so as to get
ready and go out to attack her.

The officer had no sooner given the order to call all hands than he
turned to take another look at the stranger, when he discovered the
canvas of two other vessels rising over the fog bank, in the same
direction.

They were evidently men-of-war, and heavy ships; and were at once
reported to the Captain. That prompt, cool, and decided officer did not
hesitate an instant as to the course he was to take. He knew very well
that the ships were probably English; and that they would disregard the
neutrality of any port that had not force enough to resist them, or
which did not belong to a nation they were bound to respect.

He immediately ordered the Constitution’s cable cut, and got underway,
at the same time making signal for his prizes to follow his motions.

In ten minutes after the order had been given, and in fourteen minutes
after the first ship had been seen, the American frigate was standing
out of the road, under her three top-sails. The cool and officer-like
manner in which sail was made and the ship cast has been much extolled;
not an instant having been lost by hurry or confusion. Her prizes
followed her with like promptitude.

The harbor is to leeward of the island, and the northeast trades
prevail there, and the three vessels passed out to sea hugging the
easterly point; and being then about a gunshot to windward of the
strange squadron. As soon as she was clear of the east point the
Constitution crossed top-gallant-yards, boarded her tacks, and set all
light sail that would draw. The English prisoners who had been sent on
shore at once took possession of a Portugese battery, and fired at the
frigate as she passed out, thus drawing the attention of the incoming
ships.

As soon as the Constitution and her prizes had gained the weather beam
of the enemy, the latter tacked, and the six ships stood off to the
southward and eastward, with a ten-knot breeze, and carrying everything
that would draw.

The fog bank still lay so thick upon the water as to conceal the
hulls of the strange ships; but they were supposed to be two line
of battle-ships and a large frigate; the vessel most astern and to
leeward being the Commodore. The strange frigate weathered upon all the
American ships, and gained upon the Cyane and Levant, but fell astern
of the Constitution; while the larger vessels on that frigate’s lee
quarter held way with her. As soon as she was clear of the land the
Constitution cut adrift two of her boats, which were towing astern, the
enemy pressing her too hard to allow of their being hoisted in.

The Cyane gradually dropped astern and to leeward, rendering it certain
that, if she stood on, the most weatherly of the pursuing vessels
would soon be alongside of her; so, at about one P. M. Captain Stewart
made signal for her to tack. This order the Prize Master, Lieutenant
Hoffman, at once obeyed, and it was expected that one of the chasing
vessels would go about, and follow her, but this hope was disappointed.

The Cyane, finding that she was not pursued, stood on until she was
lost in the fog, when Mr. Hoffman tacked again, supposing that the
enemy might chase him to leeward. This officer very prudently improved
his advantage by keeping long enough on that tack to allow the enemy
to pass ahead, should they pursue him, and then he squared away for
America, and arrived safely, in New York, on the 10th of April.

The three ships still continued to chase the Constitution and the
Levant; and although, as they left the land the fog lessened, it still
lay so low and dense as to put in doubt the exact force of the strange
vessels.

The English officers who were prisoners on board the Constitution
affirmed that the ship which was getting into her wake was the Acasta,
40, Captain Kerr, a ship which carried 24-pounders; and it was thought
that the three composed a squadron that was known to be cruising for
the American ships President, Peacock, and Hornet; consisting of the
Leander, 50, Sir George Collier; Newcastle, 50, Lord George Stuart; and
the Acasta. They subsequently proved to be those very ships.

The vessel on the lee quarter of the Constitution was the Newcastle,
and by half-past two the fog had got so low that her officers were seen
standing on the hammock cloths, though the line of her ports was not
visible.

She now began to fire by divisions, and some opinion of her armament
could be formed as her guns flashed through the fog. Her shot struck
the water quite close to the American ship, but did not rise again.

By three in the afternoon the Levant had fallen so far astern that she
was in the same danger as the Cyane had been, and Captain Stewart made
her signal to tack.

Mr. Ballard, her prize-master, immediately did so, and a few minutes
later the three English ships tacked, by signal, and chased the prize,
leaving the Constitution steering in an opposite direction, and going
eleven knots.

Lieutenant Ballard, finding the enemy bent upon following the Levant,
and that the Acasta was to windward of her wake, ran back into Porto
Praya, where he anchored at about four in the afternoon, within one
hundred and fifty yards of the shore, and under a strong battery. The
enemy’s ships followed her in, having commenced firing as soon as it
was seen that she would gain the anchorage, and, after bearing their
fire for some time, her colors were hauled down. The English prisoners
who had seized the shore battery also fired upon her; but little injury
was done, as Mr. Ballard caused his men to lie down on deck as soon as
the anchor was let go.

Sir George Collier was much criticised for the course he pursued on
this occasion. It was certainly a mistake on his part to call off more
than one ship to chase the Levant, although it may be said that the
position of the Leander, in the fog, and so far to leeward and astern,
did not give the senior officer the best opportunity for observing
the true condition of affairs. There was certainly every prospect of
the Acasta’s bringing the Constitution to action in the course of the
night, if she had kept up the pursuit.

The result would, of course, have been very doubtful, as her consorts
would have been far astern by that time; but she could probably have
sufficiently disabled the American frigate as to render her ultimate
capture certain.

Whatever may be thought of the conduct of the enemy, there could be but
one opinion in regard to that of Captain Stewart.

His promptitude in deciding upon his course when the enemy were
first sighted, the good judgment with which he ordered the prizes to
vary their courses, and the general steadiness of conduct on board
the Constitution, advanced to an exalted position a professional
reputation which was already very high.

This action and the subsequent chase terminated the exploits of the
favorite ship which he commanded--as far as that war was concerned.

Stewart, after landing his prisoners at Maranham, went to Porto Rico,
where he learned that peace was proclaimed; and he at once carried the
ship to New York.

In the course of two years and nine months the Constitution had been in
three actions; had been twice critically chased, and had captured five
vessels of war, two of which were frigates, and one frigate built.

In all her service, as well before Tripoli as in this war, her good
fortune was remarkable. She was never dismasted; never got on shore;
and suffered scarcely any of the usual accidents of the sea.

Though so often in action, no serious slaughter ever took place on
board of her. One of her Commanders was wounded, and four of her
Lieutenants had been killed, two on her decks, and two in the Intrepid.
But, on the whole, she was what is usually called a “lucky ship.” This
was probably due to the fact that she had always been ably commanded;
and in her last two cruises had as fine a crew as ever manned a ship.
They were mostly New England men, and it has been said that they were
almost qualified to fight the ship without her officers.

[Illustration]

MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. MARCH 9TH, 1862.

The United States Navy Department had been informed that the
Confederate authorities had raised the hull of the fine frigate
Merrimac, which had been burned at the Navy Yard at Norfolk, at the
breaking out of the civil war, and had erected a huge iron casemate
upon her.

With her engines in good working order, it was confidently expected by
the Confederates that this novel and formidable craft would be able
to capture or destroy the Union fleet, in Hampton Roads, raise the
blockade at the Capes of Virginia, and proceed to Washington, when the
Capitol would be at the mercy of her powerful battery. This battery
consisted of ten heavy rifled guns.

In those days nothing was known about ironclads, and as week after week
passed, and the monster, so often spoken of by the Norfolk papers,
which was to clear out Hampton Roads, and to brush away the “insolent
frigates” which were blockading the James River at Newport News did not
appear, people began to regard her as a bugbear. At any rate, the Union
frigates were very sure that, if they could once get her under their
broadsides, they would soon send her to the bottom.

About the 1st of March, 1862, a Norfolk newspaper contained a violent
attack upon the Confederate authorities for their bad management in
regard to the Merrimac, or “Virginia,” as they had re-christened her.
The paper declared that her plating was a failure, that her machinery
was defective, and that she very nearly sank when brought out of dock.
This was all a ruse, for she was then making trials of machinery, and
had her officers and crew on board and under drill.

The Navy Department was better informed than those in the immediate
vicinity, and hurried up the means it had created to meet the ironclad.

In Hampton Roads, at that time, were the Minnesota, a fine
steam-frigate, the Roanoke, of the same size, but crippled in
machinery, and several other vessels of much less power, together with
numerous transports, coal-ships, and others.

A few miles above, at Newport News, lay the Congress, a sailing frigate
of 50 guns, and the Cumberland, a heavy sloop of 24 guns. These were
the “insolent frigates” which, during many preceding months, had
entirely prevented the Confederates from using the water communication
between Richmond and Norfolk. The danger in leaving these vessels,
without steam, in such a position, was fully recognized, and they were
to be replaced by others about the middle of March.

On shore, at Newport News, was a camp of about four thousand men; and
the Congress and Cumberland lay just off this camp, in the fair way of
the channel, and about a quarter of a mile apart; the Cumberland being
the furthest up the James river.

On Saturday, the 8th of March, the Merrimac at last appeared,
accompanied by two or three tugs armed with rifled guns, and joined,
eventually, by two armed merchant steamers from up the James. The
Merrimac moved with great deliberation, and was seen from the vessels
at Newport News, coming down the channel from Norfolk, towards
Sewell’s point, at about half-past twelve. She could not then be seen
from Hampton Roads, but when she did at last show herself clear of the
point, there was great commotion there. But she turned up, at a right
angle, and came up the channel toward Newport News. It is said by some
that she came by a channel not generally known, or, at least, not
commonly used.

The tide had just turned ebb, and the time selected was the best for
the iron-clad, and the worst for the vessels at Newport News, for their
sterns were down stream, and they could not be sprung round.

The Merrimac approached these ships with ominous silence and
deliberation. The officers were gathered on the poops of the vessels,
hazarding all sorts of conjectures in regard to the strange craft,
and, when it was plain she was coming to attack them, or to force the
passage, the drum beat to quarters. By about two o’clock the strange
monster was close enough to make out her ports and plating, and the
Congress fired at her from a stern gun. The projectile, a 32-pound
shot, bounced off the casemate as a pebble would.

The ironclad threw open her forward ports, and answered with grape,
killing and wounding quite a number on board the Congress. Then she
steamed up past that frigate, at a distance of less than two hundred
yards, receiving a broadside, and giving one in return. The shot of
the Congress had no effect upon the Merrimac; but the broadside of the
latter, upon the wooden frigate, had created great destruction. One of
her shells dismounted an 8-inch gun, and either killed or wounded every
one of the gun’s crew. The slaughter at other guns was fearful. There
were comparatively few wounded, the shells killing, as a general rule.

After this broadside the Merrimac passed up the stream, and the
Congress’ men, supposing she had had enough of it, began to cheer;
and for many of them it was the last cheer they were ever to give.
The iron-clad went up stream far enough to turn at right angles, and
ran into the Cumberland with her ram. The Cumberland began to fill,
at once, and in a few minutes sank, her flag flying, and having kept
up her fire as long as her gun-deck was above water. Her mizzen-top
remained out of water, but it was deeper under her forward part,
and her fore and main top went under. A small freight boat, of the
quartermaster’s department, and some tugs and row-boats put off from
the wharf at the camp, to save the lives of her crew. These were fired
at by the Rebel gun-boats, and the boiler of the freight boat was
pierced, and the wharf itself damaged, but the greater part of those in
the water were saved.

The Cumberland lost one hundred and seventeen out of three hundred on
board. Buchanan, the Captain of the Merrimac, hailed Morris, the First
Lieutenant of the Cumberland, and temporarily in command, saying,
“Do you surrender?” “No, Sir!” shouted back Morris, whose ship was
then sinking. The last gun was fired by acting Master Randall, now in
the navy, but retired. The ship heeled suddenly as she sank, and the
ladders were either thrown down, or became almost perpendicular, so as
to render it difficult to get on deck. The Chaplain was drowned, on
this account. One of the gunners’ mates got up safely, however, all the
way from the magazine, and swam to the mizzen-top. The marine drummer
boy was pushed and hoisted up by some of the men, holding fast to his
drum, which he saved, and creating laughter, even at that terrible
moment, by the way in which he clung to it.

[Illustration: ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN THE MONITOR AND MERRIMAC, IN HAMPTON
ROADS.]

When the survivors of the Cumberland reached the shore they were
enthusiastically received by the soldiers, and flasks of whisky, plugs
of tobacco, and other soldiers’ and sailors’ luxuries, forced upon
them. Captain Radford, of the Cumberland, now Admiral Radford, was at
Hampton Roads, sitting on a court-martial, when the Merrimac ran out.
He went on shore, got a horse, and rode madly, in hopes of reaching
Newport News in time; but he only got there to see his pendant waving
from the truck, and sweeping the water which had swallowed up so many
of his fine crew.

In ramming the Cumberland the Merrimac had twisted her prow or beak,
but the leak it occasioned was not noticed at once. She then turned
down stream, to renew her attack upon the Congress. The latter ship
had been set on fire by the shell of the first broadside, and one of
the seats of fire was aft, near the after magazine; this was never
extinguished, and was the eventual cause of her destruction.

Seeing the fate of the Cumberland, which sank in deep water, the
Congress slipped her chains, set the top-sails and jib, and with the
help of the tug Zouave, ran on the flat which makes off from Newport
News point. Here she heeled over, as the tide continued to fall,
leaving only two 32-pounders which could be fought, and these were in
the stern ports, on the gun-deck.

The Minnesota and one or two other vessels had started up to the relief
of the Congress and Cumberland, but they got on shore before they had
achieved half the distance. It turned out to be well, for they would
otherwise probably have shared the fate of the Cumberland, in which
case the lives of their crews would have been uselessly jeopardized.

It was about half-past two when the Merrimac came to attack the
Congress once more. She took up a position about one hundred and fifty
yards astern of her, and deliberately raked her with rifled shells,
while the small steamers all concentrated their guns upon the same
devoted ship. A great many were now killed on board the Congress,
including two officers. The ship kept up a fire from her two stern
guns, having the crews swept away from them repeatedly. At last they
were both dismounted. Nearly all the men in the powder division,
below, were killed by this raking fire. This division was in charge of
Paymaster Buchanan, who was a brother of the Captain of the Merrimac.
Those now fared best whose duty kept them on the spar-deck. Even the
wounded in the cockpit were killed, and the shells were momentarily
setting fire to new places, rendering it necessary to drench the
quarters of the wounded with ice-cold water. The commanding officer,
Lieutenant Joseph B. Smith, was killed by a shell at this time.

The Congress had now borne this fire for nearly an hour, and had no
prospect of assistance from any quarter, and was unable to fire a shot
in return.

Under these circumstances there was nothing to do but to haul down
the flag. A small gun-boat came alongside, the commanding officer of
which said he had orders to take the people out, and burn the vessel.
But before many could get on board the steamer she was driven off by
the sharp-shooters of a regiment on shore. They now all opened on
the Congress again, although she had a white flag flying, and could
not be responsible for the actions of the soldiers on shore. After
about fifteen minutes more, however, they all went down to attack the
Minnesota, which ship was hard and fast aground. Fortunately they could
not approach very near her, on account of the state of the tide, and
night now drawing on, the whole flotilla withdrew, and proceeded up
the Norfolk channel.

It was now necessary for the survivors of the Congress to get on shore
as soon as possible, and this was done, by about dark, by means of the
two boats which had the fewest shot-holes in them. These made repeated
trips, taking the wounded first, and the officers last, and the wearied
and exhausted people were hospitably received in the camp.

The poor old ship, deserted by all but the dead, who were left lying
just as they fell, burned till about midnight, when she blew up, with a
report that was heard for many miles.

The next morning was fine, but hazy, but it soon became clear, as if to
afford an uninterrupted view of the first ironclad fight.

The camp was early astir; the regiments drawn up in line of battle,
while the survivors of the two ships’ companies manned the howitzers
and field pieces in the earthworks to the west of the camp. For it was
certain the Merrimac would return that morning, to complete her work,
while information had been received that General Magruder, with a large
force, was marching over from Yorktown, to take the camp in the rear,
and thus, in conjunction with the ironclad, force a surrender.

About six o’clock the Merrimac was seen, through the haze, coming down
again, apparently intending to attack the Minnesota, which ship was
still aground. Her proceedings were watched with breathless interest by
thousands, on all sides of the broad sheet of water, which formed an
amphitheatre, so to speak, on the southern side of which the spectators
were filled with hope and confidence, while to the north well-grounded
apprehension was felt. Passing up the James River channel again, the
Merrimac opened fire upon the Minnesota with her bow guns, hulling her
once or twice, when, suddenly, there darted out from under the shadows
of the huge frigate a little raft-like vessel, almost flush with the
water, and bearing on her deck a round, black turret.

At first no one in the camp seemed to know what it was, or how it came
there, but at last it was conceded that it must be the strange, new
ironclad, which was said to be building in New York, by Ericsson.

It was indeed the “Monitor,” and although too late to prevent a
terrible loss, she was in the nick of time to prevent much more serious
disaster.

And now for a few words about this remarkable vessel, whose exploits
were the cause of a revolution in the building of ships-of-war,
throughout the world.

And first, as to her name. Ericsson proposed to call her Monitor,
because she would prove a warning to the leaders of the Southern
rebellion, as well as to the authorities of other countries who should
be inclined to break our blockade, or otherwise interfere in our
affairs.

Captain Ericsson was a native of Sweden, and in his youth had served
in both the army and navy of that country. Thence he went to England,
to pursue his profession as an engineer, and came out to America,
to superintend the construction of the United States screw steamer
Princeton, in 1839. Here he remained, dying in 1895, far advanced in
years. In 1854 he planned a shot-proof iron-plated vessel, the drawings
for which he forwarded to Louis Napoleon, saying, among other things,
that his invention would place an entire fleet of wooden vessels at its
mercy, in calms and light winds. Louis Napoleon politely declined to
accept his proposition to build such a vessel for the French Navy.

When it became evident that a long and arduous struggle was before
us, at the opening of the Civil War, certain gentlemen entered into
a contract to build such a vessel for our Government, on Ericsson’s
plans, and under his superintendence. The ironclad was contracted for
in October, 1861, to be ready in the shortest possible space of time.
The contract price paid for her hull was seven and a half cents a
pound, and Ericsson and his backers were to forfeit payment for the
whole, unless she was found to work in a satisfactory manner.

His plans were only partly drawn, and it is said that he frequently
made his drawings, to overcome difficulties, the same day they were to
be worked from.

The hull was built by Rowland, at Green Point, Long Island; the turret
at the Novelty Works, New York; the machinery and mechanism of the
turret at Delamater’s, in New York; while the massive port-stoppers,
which swung down by machinery, as the guns fired and the turret
revolved, were forged in Buffalo.

Wonderful to relate, this entirely novel structure was finished in one
hundred days from the time the plates for her keel were laid. She was
launched on the 30th of January, 1862, having large wooden tanks under
her stern, to prevent her from running under water, as she went off the
ways.

She was delivered to the naval authorities, at the New York Navy-yard,
on the 19th of February, following. After two trial trips it was
found to be necessary to hurry this novel and almost untried piece of
complicated machinery down to Hampton Roads, to meet the formidable
ironclad whose doings we have just been relating.

The officers and crew were in circumstances entirely new to them.
“Calmly and terribly heroic,” says Dorr, “was the act of manning this
coffin-like ship,” in which the crew was, as it were, hermetically
sealed.

Lieutenant John L. Worden, of the Navy, having been ordered to the
command, proceeded to select a crew from the receiving ships North
Carolina and Sabine. He stated fairly to the men the difficulties
and dangers which they might expect to encounter, and yet many more
volunteered to go than were required. The officers were ordered in
the usual way, except the First Lieutenant, S. D. Greene, who was a
volunteer. Chief Engineer Stimers, of the navy, who had been employed
as an inspector of some of the work, and who was interested in the
performance of the vessel, went down in her as a passenger, and took
part, as a volunteer, in her first action.

The Monitor’s orders to Hampton Roads were issued on the 20th of
February, but necessary work detained her; and on March 4th Admiral
Paulding, the Commandant at New York, directed Worden to proceed the
moment the weather would permit; and informed him that a tug would be
sent to tow him, and two small steamers would attend.

On the afternoon of March 6th the Monitor left Sandy Hook, with a
moderate westerly wind, and a smooth sea. The “Seth Low” was hired to
tug her, and the Currituck and Sachem formed the escort. At midday of
the 7th she was off the Capes of the Delaware, with a strong breeze
and a rough sea. Water came freely in at the hawse-pipes, around the
base of the turret, and in other places. At 4 P. M., the wind still
increasing, the water broke over the smoke and blower pipes, which were
six and four feet high, respectively. This wet the blower bands, which
slipped and broke. A failure in the machinery to supply air must soon
be fatal, in such a craft, to all on board. The blowers being stopped
there was no draft for the furnaces, and the fire and engine rooms soon
filled with gas.

The engineer in charge, Isaac Newton, U. S. N., met the emergency
promptly, but his department was soon prostrated by inhaling the gas,
and they had to be taken up into the turret, to be revived.

The water was coming in rapidly, and the hand-pumps could not discharge
it fast enough. Matters looked very gloomy, and the tug was hailed,
and directed to head for the land. This she did at once, but made slow
progress against wind and sea; but by evening she had got the Monitor
into much smoother water; repairs were made, the gas had escaped,
and at 8 o’clock she was on her course again. At midnight fears of
disaster were again aroused by very rough water, in passing over the
Chincoteague Shoals; and, to add to their troubles, the wheel-ropes
jammed, and the vessel yawed so that the towing hawser was in danger of
parting.

These difficulties were in turn overcome by the stout hearts and
skillful hands on board; and at four in the afternoon of the 8th
of March she passed Cape Henry. Heavy firing was now heard to the
westward, which Worden at once conjectured to be the Merrimac fighting
the vessels in the Roads. He at once prepared the Monitor for action,
and keyed up the turret. A pilot boat which came out to meet them soon
put them in possession of the news, and of the damage done to the ships
at Newport News, as well as the position of the Minnesota. Reporting to
the senior officer in Hampton Roads, Worden’s first care was to find a
pilot for that place. None being found, acting Master Howard, who had a
knowledge of the locality, volunteered to act as pilot.

The Monitor then went up, and anchored near the Minnesota, at one
o’clock on Sunday morning. Worden went to see Captain Van Brunt, and
informed himself, as well as he could, of the state of affairs, and
then returned to the Monitor, after assuring the Captain that he would
develop all the qualities of that vessel, both for offence and defence.

We now return to the moment when the Merrimac came down again, and
the Monitor went out to meet her, Worden’s object being to draw her
away from the Minnesota. The contrast between the opposing ironclads
was most striking, the Monitor seeming a veritable pigmy by the side
of the Merrimac. The two vessels met on parallel courses, with their
bows looking in opposite directions. They then exchanged fire. Worden
and the engineers had been very anxious about the effect of heavy
shot striking the turret, and causing it to jam. The heavy shot of
the Merrimac, _did_ strike the turret, and, to their great relief,
it continued to revolve without difficulty. Thus one great source of
anxiety was removed. Moreover, it was plainly to be seen that the
11-inch solid shot of the Monitor made a very considerable impression
upon the Merrimac’s plating. The Monitor, though slow, steered well,
and was much more agile than her long and heavy opponent, and she now
ran across the Merrimac’s stem, close to her, in the hopes of damaging
her propeller or rudder, but in this she did not succeed.

After passing up on her port side, she crossed the Merrimac’s bow, to
get between her and the Minnesota again. The Merrimac put on steam,
and made for the Monitor, to ram her. Finding that she would strike
her, Worden put his helm hard-a-port, and gave his vessel a sheer,
so that the blow glanced off from the quarter. The Monitor was now
obliged to haul off for a few minutes, to do some repair or other,
and the Merrimac turned her attention to the Minnesota, hulling her,
and exploding the boiler of a steam-tug lying alongside of her. The
Minnesota’s battery was brought to bear, and her 8-inch shot must have
hit the Merrimac more than fifty times, but glanced from her sloping
roof without inflicting damage.

The gallant little Monitor now came up again, and interposed between
the two. Her shot soon caused the Merrimac to shift her position,
and in doing so she grounded for a few minutes, but was soon afloat
again. The fight had now lasted for a long time, and just before
noon, when within ten yards of the Merrimac, one of her shells struck
the pilot-house, just over the lookout hole or slit. Worden had just
withdrawn his face, which had been pressed against it. If he had been
touching it he would probably have been killed. As it was, he was
stunned, and blinded by the explosion, and bears the indelible marks of
powder blast in his face to this day.

The concussion partly lifted the top of the pilot-house, and the helm
was put a starboard, and the Monitor sheered off. Greene was sent for,
from the turret, to take the command, but just at that time it became
evident that the Merrimac had had enough of it; and, after a few more
shots on each side she withdrew, and slowly and sullenly went up to an
anchorage above Craney Island. Greene did not follow her very far, and
was considered to have acted with good judgment; it not being necessary
to enter into the reasons for his action here. He returned, and
anchored near the Minnesota, where he remained until that vessel was
extricated from her unpleasant predicament, on the following night.

It is probable that the Monitor would, in firing at such close
quarters, have completely broken up the Merrimac’s armor plates, if a
knowledge had existed of the endurance of the Dahlgren gun. The fear
of bursting the 11-inch guns, in the small turret, caused the use of
the service charge of fifteen pounds of powder. After that time thirty
pounds were often used. Then we must remember that the crew had only
been exercised at the guns a few times, and that the gun and turret
gear were rusty, from having been kept wet during her late passage from
New York.

The Monitor was 124 feet long, and 34 feet wide in the hull. The armor
raft was 174 feet long, and 41 feet wide. Her stern overhung 34 feet,
and her bow 15 feet. Her side armor was of five one-inch plates,
backed by twenty-seven inches of oak. Her deck armor consisted of two
half-inch plates, over seven inches of plank. The turret was twenty
feet in inside diameter, covered with eight one-inch plates, and was
nine feet high. The top of the turret was of railroad bars, with holes
for ventilation. The pilot-house was built of bars eight inches square,
and built up log-house fashion, with the corners notched. She was very
primitive in all her arrangements, compared with the monitors Ericsson
afterwards produced.

She carried two 11-inch guns, which threw spherical cast-iron shot,
weighing 168 pounds. The charge of powder has been mentioned.

In this engagement she was struck twenty-one times; eight times on the
side armor; twice on the pilot-house; seven times on the turret, and
four times on deck.

The Merrimac carried ten heavy guns; sixty-eight-pounders, rifled. One
of these was broken by a shot from the Cumberland, which shot entered
her casemate, and killed seven men. Captain Buchanan was wounded on
the first day, by a musket-ball, it is said; and the Merrimac was
commanded, in her fight with the Monitor, by Lieutenant Catesby Jones,
formerly of the United States Navy, as were, indeed, all her other
officers. On the second day the Monitor injured many of her plates,
and crushed in some of her casemate timbers.

From the day she retired before the Monitor to the 11th of May, when
she was blown up by her own people, the formidable Merrimac never did
anything more of note. There was, indeed, a plan concocted to capture
the Monitor, as she lay on guard, in the Roads, by engaging her with
the Merrimac, while men from two small steamers boarded her, and wedged
her turret. Then the crew were to be driven out, by throwing balls of
stinking combustibles below, by her ventilators. But nothing came of it.

The end of the Monitor must be told. After doing good service up the
James River, during the eventful summer of 1862, she was sent down to
Beaufort, South Carolina. On the night of the 30th of December, when
off Hatteras, she suddenly foundered. About half of her officers and
crew went down in her; the rest making their escape to her escort.
The cause of her sinking was never known; but it was conjectured that
the oak timbers which were fitted on the top rim of her iron hull had
shrunk under the hot summer sun of the James River, and when she once
more got into a rough sea, admitted the water in torrents.

Before we quit the subject of the Merrimac and Monitor, it may be of
interest to mention that just about the time the Merrimac retired from
the contest the head of Magruder’s column appeared on the river bank.
But the camp at Newport News was too strong and well entrenched to be
attacked without aid from the water. Magruder was just a day too late,
and had to march back again. His troops were the same which, a few
weeks later, were opposed to McClellan, in the earthworks at Yorktown.

FARRAGUT AT NEW ORLEANS.

About the close of the gloomy and disastrous year 1861, the Government
of the United States determined to regain control of the Mississippi,
the greater part of which, from Memphis to the Gulf, was held by the
Confederates, who were thus enabled to transport immense supplies from
the southwest to the seat of war. Moreover, the Rebels, as they were
then called, had, at New Orleans, a constantly increasing force of rams
and armored vessels, under able officers of the old Navy, with which to
defend the approaches from the Gulf, as well as from up the river.

After long consideration, Farragut was chosen as the naval officer
to command in the Gulf. The story of his southern birth, and of his
steadfast loyalty to his flag, is too well known to be here repeated.

His formal orders put him in command of the “Western Gulf Blockading
Squadron,” and these were issued in January, 1862. But confidential
instructions were also given him, by which he was especially charged
with the “reduction of the defences guarding the approaches to New
Orleans, and the taking possession of that city.”

He was to be assisted by a mortar-fleet of schooners, under Commander
D. D. Porter.

Farragut had long before expressed a belief that he could take New
Orleans, and he had little confidence in a mortar-fleet, and would
rather have dispensed with it; but since Porter had already been
ordered to prepare it, when he was detailed for the command, he
acquiesced in the arrangement.

He turned out to be right, as he generally was in such matters.

On February 2d, 1862, Farragut sailed for the Gulf, in the sloop-of-war
Hartford, which was so long to bear his flag, successfully, through
manifold dangers.

The Hartford was a wooden screw-steamer, full ship-rigged, and of
nineteen hundred tons burthen. She was of comparatively light draught,
and, therefore, well suited to the service she was called upon to
perform.

She then carried a battery of twenty-two nine-inch, smooth-bore guns,
two 20-pounder Parrotts, and her fore and main-tops had howitzers, with
a protection of boiler iron, a suggestion of Farragut’s. This battery
was afterwards increased by a rifled gun upon the forecastle. Like
Napoleon, Farragut believed in plenty of guns.

The Hartford arrived at her rendezvous, Ship Island, one hundred miles
north-northeast of the mouths of the Mississippi, on February 20th.

A military force, to co-operate with Farragut’s fleet, was sent out,
under General B. F. Butler, and arrived at Ship Island on March 25th.
Butler’s plan was to follow Farragut, and secure, by occupation,
whatever the guns of the fleet should subdue.

Let us now see a little about the scene of action.

Farragut’s son, in the “Life of Farragut,” from which we principally
quote in this article, says (quoting another person), that the Delta
of the Mississippi has been aptly described as “a long, watery arm,
gauntleted in swamps and mud, spread out into a grasping hand,” of
which the fingers are the five passes, or mouths.

At that time the mud brought down by the great river formed bars at
each pass, which bars are always shifting, and require good pilots to
keep account of their condition. In peace times the pilots are always
at work, sounding and buoying, and the chances are that all the efforts
of the “Delta Doctors” will only end in transferring the bars further
out into the Gulf.

New Orleans, on the left bank of the river, is about one hundred miles
from its mouth, and was by far the wealthiest and most important city
of the Confederacy. Loyall Farragut states that, in 1860, it had about
170,000 inhabitants; while Charleston had but about 40,000; Richmond
even a smaller population; and Mobile but 29,000 people.

Just before the war New Orleans had the largest export trade of any
city in the world; and this fact, together with the importance of its
position from a military point of view, made it the most important
object for any military expedition.

There is a great bend in the Mississippi, thirty miles above the head
of the passes, the lowest favorable locality for defence, where two
forts had been erected by the United States Government, St. Philip on
the left, or north bank, and a little further down, Fort Jackson, on
the right bank. A single fort at this point had held a British fleet in
check for nine days, in spite of a vigorous shelling by their guns and
mortars. Fort St. Philip was originally built by the Spaniards, but had
been completely reconstructed. It was a quadrangular earthwork, with a
brick scarp, and powerful batteries exteriorly, above and below. Fort
Jackson was more important, and rose twenty-five feet above the river
and swamp, while St. Philip was only nineteen feet above them.

The Confederates had taken possession of these works, and had put them
in complete order; Jackson mounted seventy-five powerful guns, and
St. Philip forty. Fourteen of Fort Jackson’s guns were in bomb-proof
casemates. The works were garrisoned by fifteen hundred men, commanded
by Brigadier General Duncan; St. Philip being commanded by Lieutenant
Colonel Edward Higgins, formerly an officer of the United States Navy.

Above the forts lay a fleet of fifteen vessels, under Commodore J.
K. Mitchell, formerly of the United States Navy, which included the
ironclad ram Manassas, and a huge floating battery, covered with
railroad iron, called the “Louisiana.”

Just below Fort Jackson the river was obstructed by a heavy chain,
brought from the Pensacola Navy-yard. This chain was supported by
cypress logs, at short intervals; the ends made fast to great trees on
shore, and the whole kept from sagging down with the current by heavy
anchors.

This contrivance was swept away by a spring freshet, and was replaced
by smaller chains, passed over eight dismasted hulks, anchored abreast,
and partially by logs, as before. There was a battery at the end
opposite Fort Jackson.

A number of sharpshooters patrolled the banks below, to give notice of
any movements of the United States forces.

Farragut’s task was to break through the obstructions, pass the forts,
destroy or capture the Rebel fleet, and then to place New Orleans under
the guns of his own ships, and demand its surrender.

He had six sloops-of-war, sixteen gun-boats--all steam-vessels--and
twenty-one schooners, each with a 13-inch mortar, and five sailing
vessels, which were to act as magazines and store-ships. The fleet
carried over two hundred guns, and was the largest that had ever been
seen under our flag, up to that time; but was afterwards much exceeded
by that which bombarded Fort Fisher.

There was little opportunity for General Butler and his fifteen
thousand troops to co-operate in the passage of the forts; so they only
held themselves ready to hold what Farragut might capture.

Farragut hoped to have taken the Colorado, a most powerful frigate, up
the river, but she drew entirely too much water to be got over the bar.
Great difficulty was experienced in getting the Brooklyn, Mississippi,
and Pensacola into the river. The Mississippi, although lightened in
every possible way, had to be dragged through at least a foot of mud.

When the arduous labor was finished, and the time for action arrived,
Butler’s troops were embarked on the transports, and Porter’s
mortar-schooners were placed on each bank, below the forts; being
protected from the view of those in the batteries by the forest trees,
and by having great branches lashed at their mast-heads, which blended
with the foliage on the banks.

The mortars threw shells weighing two hundred and eighty-five pounds,
and their fire was guided by a careful triangulation, made by Mr.
Gerdes, of the Coast Survey. Fort Jackson received most of the shells,
of which about a thousand a day were thrown, for six days. The
Confederates had a good many killed and wounded by this means, and
much damage was done, but the forts were not silenced; and Lieutenant
Weitzel reported, after their surrender, that they were as strong as
before the first shell was fired.

[Illustration: NEW ORLEANS--FLEET PASSING FORTS JACKSON AND ST.
PHILIP.]

One schooner was sunk, and one steamer disabled by the return fire from
the fort.

In the course of the delay waiting for the result of the bombardment,
many of Farragut’s ships were damaged by collisions, caused by strong
winds and currents, and by efforts to avoid the fire-rafts which the
enemy sent down. Only one of the latter put the ships in any danger,
and that was at last turned off. These fire-rafts were flatboats piled
with dry wood, sprinkled with tar and turpentine. They were towed out
of the way by the ships’ boats.

Farragut had issued orders to his commanding officers in regard to
preparing their ships for this particular service. After providing for
the top hamper, and dispensing with many masts and spars, he says,
“Make arrangements, if possible, to mount one or two guns on the poop
and top-gallant-forecastle; in other words, be prepared to use as many
guns as possible, ahead and astern, to protect yourself against the
enemy’s gun-boats and batteries, bearing in mind that you will always
have to ride head to the current, and can only avail yourself of the
sheer of the helm to point a broadside gun more than three points
forward of the beam.

“Have a kedge in the mizzen-chains (or any convenient place) on the
quarter, with a hawser bent and leading through in the stern chock,
ready for any emergency; also grapnels in the boats, ready to hook on
to and to tow off fire-ships. Trim your vessel a few inches by the
head, so that if she touches the bottom she will not swing head down
the river. Put your boat howitzers in the fore and main tops, on the
boat carriages, and secure them for firing abeam, etc. Should any
accident occur to the machinery of the ship, making it necessary to
drop down the river, you will back and fill down under sail, or you
can drop your anchor and drift down, but in no case attempt to turn
the ship’s head down stream. You will have a spare hawser ready, and
when ordered to take in tow your next astern, do so, keeping the hawser
slack so long as the ship can maintain her own position, having a care
not to foul the propeller.

“No vessel must withdraw from battle, under any circumstances, without
the consent of the flag-officer. You will see that force and other
pumps and engine hose are in good order, and men stationed by them, and
your men will be drilled to the extinguishing of fires.

“Have light Jacob-ladders made to throw over the side, for the use of
the carpenters in stopping shot-holes, who are to be supplied with
pieces of inch board lined with felt, and ordinary nails, and see that
the ports are marked, in accordance with the ‘ordnance instructions,’
on the berth deck, to show the locality of the shot-holes.

“Have many tubs of water about the decks, both for the purpose of
extinguishing fire and for drinking. Have a heavy kedge in the port
main-chains, and a whip on the main-yard, ready to run it up and let
fall on the deck of any vessel you may run alongside of, in order to
secure her for boarding.

“You will be careful to have lanyards on the lever of the screw, so as
to secure the gun at the proper elevation, and prevent it from running
down at each fire. I wish you to understand that the day is at hand
when you will be called upon to meet the enemy in the worst form for
our profession. You must be prepared to execute all those duties to
which you have been so long trained in the Navy without having the
opportunity of practicing. I expect every vessel’s crew to be well
exercised at their guns, because it is required by the regulations of
the service, and it is usually the first object of our attention;
but they must be equally well trained for stopping shot-holes and
extinguishing fire. Hot and cold shot will, no doubt, be freely dealt
to us, and there must be stout hearts and quick hands to extinguish the
one and stop the holes of the other.

“I shall expect the most prompt attention to signals and verbal orders,
either from myself or the Captain of the fleet, who, it will be
understood, in all cases, acts by my authority.”

After the bombardment had continued three days Farragut, who had made
up his mind to attempt the passage of the forts in any event, called a
council of his Captains, to obtain their opinion as to the best manner
of doing so.

Immediately after the council Farragut issued the following general
order:--

“UNITED STATES FLAG-SHIP HARTFORD,
MISSISSIPPI RIVER, April 20th, 1862.

“The Flag-Officer, having heard all the opinions expressed by the
different commanders, is of the opinion that whatever is to be
done will have to be done quickly, or we shall be again reduced
to a blockading squadron, without the means of carrying on the
bombardment, as we have nearly expended all the shells and fuses and
material for making cartridges. He has always entertained the same
opinions which are expressed by Commander Porter; that is, there
are three modes of attack; and the question is, which is the one to
be adopted? his own opinion is, that a combination of two should
be made; viz., the forts should be run, and when a force is once
above the forts, to protect the troops, they should be landed at
quarantine, from the Gulf side, by bringing them through the bayou,
and then our forces should move up the river, mutually aiding each
other as it can be done to advantage.

“When, in the opinion of the Flag-Officer, the propitious time
has arrived, the signal will be made to weigh and advance to the
conflict. If, in his opinion, at the time of arriving at the
respective positions of the different divisions of the fleet, we have
the advantage, he will make the signal for close action, number 8,
and abide the result, conquer, or be conquered, drop anchor or keep
under way, as in his opinion is best.

“Unless the signal above mentioned is made, it will be understood
that the first order of sailing will be formed after leaving Fort
St. Philip, and we will proceed up the river in accordance with the
original opinion expressed.

“The programme of the order of sailing accompanies this general
order, and the commanders will hold themselves in readiness for the
service as indicated.

“D. G. FARRAGUT,
“_Flag-Officer Western Gulf Blockading Squadron._”

Having decided to run by the forts, he confided to Fleet-Captain Bell
the dangerous mission of proceeding, with the gunboats Pinola and
Itasca, to make a passage for his fleet through the chain obstructions.

Lieutenant Caldwell, of the Itasca, and his party, with great coolness
and bravery, boarded one of the hulks, and succeeded in detaching
the chains. They were accompanied by the inventor of a new submarine
petard, which he placed under one of the hulks. But a movement of the
Pinola in the swift current snapped the wires, and it could not be
exploded. In spite of a very heavy fire directed upon them, the party
at last succeeded in making a sufficient opening for the fleet to pass
through.

Farragut wrote, the next day: “* * * Captain Bell went last night to
cut the chain across the river. I never felt such anxiety in my life,
as I did until his return. One of his vessels got on shore, and I was
fearful she would be captured. They kept up a tremendous fire on him;
but Porter diverted their fire with a heavy cannonade. * * * * Bell
would have burned the hulks, but the illumination would have given the
enemy a chance to destroy his gunboat, which got aground. However, the
chain was divided, and it gives us space enough to go through. I was as
glad to see Bell, on his return, as if he had been my boy. I was up all
night, and could not sleep until he got back to the ship.”

Farragut had determined to run by the forts at the end of five days’
bombardment; but he was detained for twenty-four hours by the necessity
of repairing damages to two of his vessels. At first he had determined
to lead, in the Hartford, but was dissuaded from that, and appointed
Captain Bailey, whose ship, the Colorado, drew too much water to get
up, to lead the column, in the gun-boat Cayuga, Lieutenant Commanding
N. B. Harrison.

Long before this--on the 6th of April--Farragut had himself
reconnoitred the forts, by daylight, going up in the gun-boat Kennebec
in whose cross-trees he sat, glass in hand, until the gunners in the
fort began to get his range.

On the night of the passage, April 23-24, the moon would rise about
half-past three in the morning, and the fleet was ordered to be ready
to start about two.

In this, as in most other important operations during the war, the
enemy were mysteriously apprised of what was to be done.

At sunset there was a light southerly breeze, and a haze upon the
water. Caldwell was sent up, in the Itasca, to see if the passage made
in the obstructions was still open. At eleven at night he signalled
that it was, and just at that time the enemy opened fire upon him, sent
down burning rafts, and lighted immense piles of wood which they had
prepared on shore, near the ends of the chain.

Soon after midnight the hammocks of the fleet were quietly stowed, and
the ships cleared for action.

At five minutes before two, two ordinary red lights were shown at
the peak of the flag-ship, the signal to get under way, but it was
half-past three before all was ready. This was the time for the moon to
rise, but that made little difference, with the light of the blazing
rafts and bonfires.

The mortar-boats and the sailing sloop Portsmouth moved further up
stream, to engage the water battery, as the ships were going by. This
they promptly did, and then Captain Bailey led off, with his division
of eight vessels, whose objective point was Fort St. Philip. All of
these passed safely through the opening in the cable.

The forts opened on them promptly, but in five minutes they had reached
St. Philip, and were pouring grape and canister into that work.

In ten minutes more the Cayuga had passed beyond range of the fort,
to find herself surrounded by eleven Rebel gun-boats. Three of these
attempted to board her at once. An 11-inch shot was sent through one of
them, at a range of about thirty yards, and she was at once run ashore
and burned up.

The Parrott gun on the Cayuga’s forecastle drove off another; and she
was preparing to close with the third, when the Oneida and Varuna,
which had run in close to St. Philip, thus avoiding the elevated guns
of that fort, while they swept its bastions with grape and shrapnel,
came to the assistance of the Cayuga. S. P. Lee, in the Oneida, ran
full speed into one of the enemy’s vessels, cut her nearly in two, and
left her floating down the current, a helpless wreck.

She fired right and left into two others, and then went to the
assistance of the Varuna, which had got ashore on the left bank,
hard pressed by two Rebel gun-boats, one of which was said to be the
Manassas. The Varuna was rammed by both of them, and fifteen minutes
after, she sunk. In that time she had put three 8-inch shells into
the Governor Moore, besides so crippling her with solid shot that she
surrendered to the Oneida. She also forced another to take to the
bank by her 8-inch shell. The Varuna was commanded by Commander (now
Admiral) C. S. Boggs. It is said that, before sinking, he also exploded
the boiler of another small steamer.

The Pensacola steamed slowly and steadily by, firing her powerful
battery with great deliberation, and doing especial execution with her
11-inch pivot gun and her rifled eighty-pounder. In return she received
a heavy fire, and lost thirty-seven in killed and wounded; the greatest
number of any of the fleet. Her boats were lowered, and sent to assist
the sinking Varuna.

The Mississippi came up next in line to the Pensacola, but escaped
with light loss of life. She it was that met the ram Manassas, and the
latter gave her a severe cut, below the water, on the port-quarter,
and disabled her machinery. But the Mississippi riddled her with shot,
boarded her, and set her on fire, and she drifted down below the forts
and blew up.

The Katahdin ran close to the forts, passed them rapidly, got near
the head of the line, and was engaged principally with the ironclad
Louisiana. The Kineo ran by, close under St. Philip, and then assisted
the Mississippi with the ram Manassas: but she was afterwards attacked
by three of the enemy’s gun-boats at once, and, having had her
pivot-gun-carriage injured, withdrew, and continued up stream.

The Wissahickon, the last of the eight vessels of the first division,
was less fortunate. She got ashore before she reached the forts, got
off and passed them, and ran on shore again above.

It must be remembered that these operations were carried on in the
darkness and thick smoke, lighted only by the lurid flashes of more
than two hundred guns.

The second division of the fleet was led by Farragut himself, in the
Hartford, followed by the Brooklyn and Richmond. These were three
formidable vessels. The Hartford opened fire on Fort Jackson just
before four in the morning, and received a heavy fire from both forts.
Soon after, in attempting to avoid a fire-raft, she grounded on a shoal
spot, near St. Philip. At the same time the ram Manassas pushed a
fire-raft under her port-quarter, and she at once took fire. A portion
of her crew went to fire-quarters, and soon subdued the flames, the
working of her guns being steadily continued. Soon she backed off,
into deep water; but this movement set her head down stream, and it
was with difficulty that she was turned round against the current.
When, at last, this was accomplished, she proceeded up the river,
firing into several of the enemy’s vessels as she passed. One of these
was a steamer, packed with men, apparently a boarding party. She was
making straight for the Hartford, when Captain Broome’s gun, manned by
marines, planted a shell in her, which exploded, and she disappeared.

During the critical period when she was slowly turning up river, the
Admiral stood aft, giving orders, and occasionally consulting a little
compass attached to his watch-chain. During most of the engagement,
however, he was forward, watching the progress of the fight.

The Brooklyn was also detained by getting entangled with a raft, and
running over one of the hulks which held up the chain, during which
time she was raked by Fort Jackson, and suffered somewhat from the fire
of St. Philip.

Just as she was clear, and headed up stream, she was butted by the
Manassas, which had not headway enough to damage her much, and slid
off again into the darkness. Then the Brooklyn was attacked by a large
steamer, but she gave her her port broadside, at fifty yards, and set
her on fire. Feeling her way along, in a dense cloud of smoke from
a fire-raft, she came close abreast of St. Philip, into which she
poured such tremendous broadsides that by the flashes the gunners were
seen running to shelter, and for the time the fort was silenced. The
Brooklyn then passed on, and engaged several of the enemy’s gun-boats.
One of these, the Warrior, came under her port broadside, when eleven
five-second shells were planted in her, which set her on fire, and she
was run on shore. The Brooklyn was under fire an hour and a half, but
did not lose quite so many as the Pensacola.

The Richmond, a slow ship, was the third and last of the centre
division. She came on steadily, and without accident, working her
battery with the utmost regularity. Her loss was not heavy, which
her commander attributed mainly to a complete provision of splinter
nettings.

The gun-boat Sciota, carrying Fleet-Captain Bell, led the third
division. She steamed by the forts, firing as she passed, and above
them burned two steamboats. Then she sent a boat to receive the
surrender of an armed steamboat, but the latter was found to be fast
ashore.

The Iroquois, Commander John DeCamp, had not such good fortune.
She passed so close to Fort Jackson as to escape much injury, but
received a terrible raking from St. Philip, and was also raked by
the armed steamer McCrea, with grape. She drove off the McCrea with
an eleven-inch shell and a stand of canister, and then went through a
group of the enemy’s gun-boats, giving them broadsides as she passed.
The Iroquois’ losses were heavy.

The gun-boat Pinola passed up in line, firing her eleven-inch pivot and
Parrott rifles at the flashes of the guns of the forts, which were all
that Commander Crosby could see; then she emerged from the smoke cloud,
steered towards St. Philip, and by the light of the blazing rafts,
received the discharges of its forty guns.

The Pinola was the last vessel which passed the forts, and she got up
in time to fire a few shell at the enemy’s flotilla.

Of the other three gun-boats of the division, the Kennebec got out of
her course, became entangled in the rafts, and did not get free until
it was broad daylight, and too late to attempt a passage. The Itasca,
upon arriving in front of Fort Jackson, received a shot in her boiler,
incapacitating her, and she was obliged to drift down stream.

The Winona got astray among the hulks, and when she came within range
of Fort Jackson it was broad daylight, and the fleet had gone on. Fort
Jackson opened upon her, and she soon lost all the crew of her rifled
gun but one man. Still she kept on, to endeavor to get through, but St.
Philip opening upon her, from her lower battery, at less than point
blank range, the little Winona was forced to turn and descend the
stream.

Thus did Farragut accomplish a feat in naval warfare which had no
precedent, and which is still without a parallel, except the one
furnished by himself, at Mobile, two years later.

Starting with seventeen wooden vessels, he had passed, with all but
three of them, against the swift current of a river, there but half
a mile wide, between two powerful earthworks, which had long been
prepared for him, his course impeded by blazing rafts, and immediately
thereafter had met the enemy’s fleet of fifteen vessels, two of them
ironclad, and either captured or destroyed every one of them.

All this was done with the loss of but one vessel from his own
squadron. Probably few naval men would have believed that this work
could have been done so effectually, even with ironclads.

Captain Wilkinson, who was in this battle as executive officer of
the Confederate iron-clad Louisiana, in his “Narrative of a Blockade
Runner,” says: “Most of us belonging to that little naval fleet knew
that Admiral Farragut would dare to attempt what any man would; and,
for my part, I had not forgotten that while I was under his command,
during the Mexican war, he had proposed to Commodore Perry, then
commanding the Gulf Squadron, and urged upon him, the enterprise of
capturing the strong fort of San Juan de Ulloa, at Vera Cruz, by
_boarding_. Ladders were to be constructed, and triced up along the
attacking ships’ masts, and the ships to be towed alongside the walls
by the steamers of the squadron. Here was a much grander prize to be
fought for, and every day of delay was strengthening his adversaries.”

The magnitude of Farragut’s novel enterprise was scarcely realized at
the North when the first news was received. It was simply announced
that he “had run by the forts.” The Confederates knew too well what
resistance and difficulties he had overcome, and what a loss they
sustained in New Orleans.

An officer who was in the engagement expressed an opinion that if the
passage had been attempted by daylight the fleet would have sustained a
fearful loss.

After the fleet had passed the forts Captain Bailey, in the Cayuga,
preceded the flag-ship up the river, and at the quarantine station
captured the Chalmette regiment, encamped upon the river bank.

On the morning of the 25th, the Cayuga, still leading, encountered the
Chalmette batteries, three miles below New Orleans. The Hartford and
Brooklyn, with several others, soon joined her, and silenced these
batteries. New Orleans was now fairly under Farragut’s guns, and this
had been effected at the cost of thirty-seven killed and one hundred
and forty-seven wounded.

Farragut appointed eleven o’clock of the morning of the 26th as the
hour “for all the officers and crews of the fleet to return thanks to
Almighty God for His great goodness and mercy, in permitting us to pass
through the events of the last two days with so little loss of life and
blood.”

The ships passed up to the city, and anchored immediately in front of
it, and Captain Bailey was sent on shore to demand the surrender of
it, from the authorities, to which the Mayor replied that the city was
under martial law, and that he had no authority. General Lovell, who
was present, said he would deliver up nothing, but, in order to free
the city from embarrassment, he would restore the city authorities, and
retire with his troops, which he did.

Farragut then seized all the steamboats which had not been destroyed
and sent them down to the quarantine station, for Butler’s troops.
Among them was the Tennessee, which the blockaders had been so long
watching for, but which never got out.

The levee at New Orleans was at this time a scene of perfect
desolation, as ships, steamers, and huge piles of cotton and wool had
been set on fire by the Confederates, and an immense amount of property
was destroyed. A very powerful ironclad, called the Mississippi, was
set on fire, and drifted down past the city, in flames. Another was
sunk directly in front of the Custom House, and others which had been
begun at Algiers were destroyed.

Several miles up the river, about Carrollton, were extensive
fortifications--all taken possession of by Commander Lee--and an
immense work, supporting chains, to prevent Foote’s gun-boats from
descending the river.

Farragut had sent a party on shore to hoist the flag on the Custom
House and Mint, belonging to the General Government. The party acted
with great firmness and discretion, in spite of insults from a large
and excited crowd. At noon on the 26th, during the performance of
divine service referred to before, the officers and crews of the
vessels were startled by the discharge of a howitzer in the main-top of
the Pensacola. The lookout aloft had seen four men mount to the roof
of the Mint and tear down the United States flag, and he had instantly
fired the gun, which was trained upon the flag-staff, and loaded with
grape.

The leader of these men, a desperado and gambler, who thus imperilled
the lives and property of the whole of the citizens, was, by order of
General Butler, tried for the offence afterwards, was found guilty, and
hanged by a beam and rope thrust out of the highest window of the Mint.

When Admiral Farragut arrived at the quarantine station, after passing
the forts, he had sent Captain Boggs (whose vessel, the Varuna, was
lost) in a boat, through the bayous, to inform General Butler and
Commander Porter of his success. The Captain was twenty-six hours
in getting through. But General Butler, in the steamer Saxon, had
followed the fleet up near the forts, and had witnessed the passage of
the ships. He then hurried back to his troops, and they rendezvoused
at Sable Island, twelve miles in the rear of Fort St. Philip, whence
they were carried up in transports and landed at a point five miles
above that work. At the same time Commander Porter had sent six of his
mortar-boats to the bay behind Fort Jackson, where they arrived on the
morning of April 27th, thus making a complete investment. That night
two hundred and fifty of the garrison of Fort Jackson came out and
surrendered themselves to the Union pickets.

While Farragut was passing the forts, Porter, with his mortar-boats,
and their attendant steamers, continued the bombardment. On the 24th he
demanded a surrender, but was refused, and for the three days following
there was little or no firing. During these days the garrisons were
occupied in re-mounting some of their dismounted guns, and transferred
others to the floating battery Louisiana.

On the 28th, General Duncan, the commander of the forts, learning that
Farragut had possession of New Orleans, accepted the terms offered by
Porter. While the articles of capitulation were being drawn up and
signed, on board the Harriet Lane, and flags of truce were flying,
the Confederate naval officers, after destroying three of their four
remaining vessels, set fire to the Louisiana, and cast her adrift.

Fortunately her magazine exploded before she reached Porter’s flotilla,
or some of his vessels must have shared her fate; and, not improbably,
all of them.

After the surrender had been consummated, he went up the river, and
captured the naval officers who were supposed to have been guilty
of this perfidious and most dishonorable, and murderous act, and put
them in close confinement, to be sent North, and dealt with as the
Government might see fit. John K. Mitchell, the Commodore of the
Confederate flotilla, sent a letter to Farragut, justifying himself for
destroying his vessels, and excusing his attempt to blow up Porter’s
vessels, in this wise:--

“Lieutenant Whittle was sent in a boat with a flag of truce to inform
Commander Porter that in firing the Louisiana, her magazine had not
been effectually drowned and that, though efforts were made to drown
the charges in the guns, they may not have succeeded. This information
was given in consideration of the negotiations then pending under flag
of truce between him and Fort Jackson; but while the message was on its
way the explosion took place, a fact that does not affect the honorable
purposes intended by it.”

This letter seems almost too childish and disingenuous to receive
serious notice. It was almost the only instance during the war when
naval officers did not act in good faith.

The Confederate naval officers claimed, in justification of their
action, that they were no party to the flag of truce, nor were they
included in the terms of surrender of the forts, General Duncan
treating only for the garrisons under his command, and expressly
disclaiming all connection with the navy. The whole was a pitiful
commentary upon the jealousies and want of united conduct, which
rendered Farragut’s task a little more easy. Mitchell had always
been considered an “ill-conditioned” man, in the old navy, and the
Government was disposed to treat him, and some of his officers, pretty
rigorously; but matters were arranged, afterwards, in a correspondence
which took place, upon their being sent North, between the Secretary
of the Navy and Mitchell, that resulted in their treatment as ordinary
prisoners.

In writing to his family, after his capture of New Orleans, Farragut
said, “It is a strange thought, that I am here among my relatives, and
yet not one has dared to say, ‘I am happy to see you.’ There is a reign
of terror in this doomed city: but, although I am abused as one who
wished to kill all the women and children, I still see a feeling of
respect for me.”

ATLANTA AND WEEHAWKEN. JUNE 17TH, 1863

In the latter part of the year 1861 an English steamer, named the
Fingal, ran past the blockading vessels, and got safely into Savannah.

That part was very well done, but the getting to sea again was another
matter, for she was so closely watched that it was found impossible to
do so. All sorts of stratagems were resorted to, and several starts
made upon the darkest nights, but there was always found a Federal
gun-boat, or perhaps more than one, ready to receive her, all the more
that she was a valuable vessel, and would turn in plenty of prize-money
to her captors.

At last, in despair of any more use of her as a blockade-runner,
the Rebel authorities determined to convert her into an ironclad
ship-of-war. She was cut down, so as to leave her deck not more than
two feet above the water; and upon this deck was built a very heavy
casemate, inclining at an angle of about thirty degrees, and mounting
four heavy rifled guns. The battery-deck was built of great beams of
timber, a foot and a half thick. Her iron armor was four inches thick,
then considered quite formidable, and was secured to a backing of oak
and pine, eighteen inches thick. Her sides about and below the water
line were protected by heavy logs or timbers built upon her, so that
from being a slim and graceful blockade-runner, she attained a breadth
of forty-one feet, with a length of two hundred and four. The ports in
her casemate were closed by iron shutters, of the same thickness as her
armor. Her bow was formed into a ram, and also carried, at the end of a
spar, a percussion torpedo.

In fact, she was a very formidable craft, of the general style of those
built by the Confederates during the war. The Merrimac was nearly all
casemate, but the later built ones had as small a casemate as was
consistent with the working of the guns they were intended to carry.

Thicker armor than hers had not yet come into use, the English ironclad
ships just then built, in consequence of the success of the Monitor and
Merrimac, not being any more protected.

The first contest between a monitor and fifteen-inch guns, and an
ironclad with stationary casemate or turret and rifled guns, was now to
take place.

The Atlanta was commanded by an officer of energy and ability, named
Webb, formerly a Lieutenant in the United States Navy.

The Confederate authorities were certain that this latest production of
their naval architects was to overcome the redoubtable monitors, and
they fully believed that, while the Atlanta’s armor would resist their
heavy round shot, her heavy rifled guns, at close quarters, would tear
the monitor turret to pieces, while the ram and torpedo would finish
the work begun by the guns.

The vessel, being ready, came down from Savannah, passed through the
Wilmington, a mouth of the Savannah River, and so passed down into
Wassaw Sound, improperly named, in many books and maps, Warsaw.

Admiral Du Pont had taken measures to keep himself informed as regarded
this vessel’s state of preparation, and the monitors Weehawken and
Nahant had been sent to meet her and some other armored vessels
preparing at Savannah.

Both the Nahant and Weehawken were at anchor when the strange vessel
was seen. It was at daylight, and she was then about three miles from
the Nahant, and coming down very rapidly. The Weehawken was commanded
by that capable and sterling officer, John Rogers, and he at once
slipped his cable, and made rapidly off, seaward, as if in headlong
flight, but, in the meantime, making preparations for action.

At about half-past four, on this bright summer morning, the Weehawken
rounded to, and breasted the tide, approaching her enemy.

The Nahant had no pilot, and could only follow in the Weehawken’s wake,
through the channels of the Sound.

The Atlanta fired the first shot, at about a quarter to five, being
then distant about a mile and a half. This passed across the stern of
the Weehawken, and struck the water near the Nahant. The Atlanta seemed
to be lying across the channel, awaiting attack, and keeping up her
fire.

The Weehawken steadily came up the channel, and at a little after 5
a. m., having approached within about three hundred yards, opened her
fire. She fired five shots, which took her fifteen minutes, and at the
end of that time the Atlanta hauled down the Confederate colors, and
hoisted a white flag. Such a rapid threshing is seldom recorded in
naval history, and is the more remarkable when we remember that the
commander of the Atlanta was a cool and experienced officer, trained in
the United States Navy, and an excellent seaman.

Two passenger steamers, loaded down with ladies and non-combatants,
had followed the Atlanta down from Savannah, to witness the capture of
the Yankee monitors. These now made the best of their way back to that
city.

The Atlanta had a crew of twenty-one officers and one hundred and
twenty-four men. Landsmen often wonder why ships have so many officers
in proportion to men, but it is necessary.

The officers of the Confederate vessel stated her speed to be ten
knots, and they confidently expected to capture both the monitors,
after which, as it appeared from the instruments captured on board
of her, she expected to proceed to sea, and try conclusions with the
Charleston fleet. Her engines were first-rate, and her hull of a good
model, and there is no reason why she should not have gone up to
Charleston and broken the blockade there, except the one fact that she
turned out not to be equal to the monitors.

The action was so brief that the Nahant did not share in it, and
of the five shots fired by the Weehawken, four struck the Atlanta,
and caused her surrender. The first was a fifteen-inch shot, which,
though it struck the casemate of the Atlanta at a very acute angle,
smashed through both the iron armor and the wooden backing, strewed
the deck with splinters, prostrated some forty officers and men by the
concussion, and wounded several by the splinters and fragments of armor
driven in. We can imagine the consternation of a crew which had come
down confident of an easy victory. In fact, this one shot virtually
settled the battle. The Weehawken fired an eleven-inch shot next, but
this did little damage. The third shot was from the fifteen-inch gun,
and knocked off the top of the pilot-house, which projected slightly
above the casemate, wounded the pilots, and stunned the men at the
wheel. The fourth shot carried away one of the port-stoppers. Sixteen
of her crew were wounded.

The Atlanta was valued by the appraisers, for prize-money, at three
hundred and fifty thousand dollars, a sum, as Boynton remarks, easily
won in fifteen minutes, with only five shots, and without a loss of a
single man on the other side. More than this, it settled the value of
that class of vessels, as compared with monitors.

“As the fight of the Merrimac with the Cumberland, Congress and
Minnesota virtually set aside as worthless for war purposes the
vast wooden navies of Europe,” so it showed that great changes and
improvements were necessary in the broadside ironclads, if they were to
be opposed to monitors armed with guns of great power. The result was a
great increase in the thickness of armor, which went on, as the power
of the guns increased, until now it is a question whether armor may not
be abandoned, except for certain purposes.

KEARSARGE AND ALABAMA. JUNE 19TH, 1864.

During the summer of 1864, while Grant and his army were fighting the
terrible battles which opened his way to the James, through Virginia;
and the whole country was upon the very tenter-hooks of anxiety, a
piece of news came across the water which gave more satisfaction to
the country at large than many a hard-won battle has given, where a
thousand times the numbers were engaged. It was the intelligence that
the Alabama was at the bottom of the sea.

We may borrow the words of Boynton, in his “History of the Navy during
the Rebellion,” to put the reader in possession of a part of the career
of the notorious Alabama, previous to her meeting with the Kearsarge.

No event of the great civil war excited such deep indignation, such
bitter resentment, as the career of the Alabama. It was not alone
because she committed such havoc with our commerce--burning our
merchantmen in great numbers; nor was it because she had sunk the
Hatteras--a merchant steamer converted into a gun-boat; but it was
because England had sent out a British ship, with British guns, and
seamen trained in her own practice-ship, a vessel English in every
essential but her flag, to lay waste the commerce of a country with
which she professed to be at peace. To add to the provocation,
this vessel was originally called the “290,” to show, by the large
number who had contributed to fit her out, how widespread was English
sympathy for the cause she was to support. The Alabama was not regarded
as a Confederate vessel of war, but as an English man-of-war, sent
forth under the thin veil of another flag, to sink and destroy our
merchantmen. The short-lived triumph in which England indulged turned
out to be about as costly a pleasure as she could well have taken; and
deeply mortified as we were that the successful rover should escape
our watchful cruisers, and so long pursue, unmolested, her work of
destruction, in the end the pride of England was more deeply and
bitterly wounded than our own, while at the same time she was held
responsible for the destruction of our property. England will probably
have reason to remember the Alabama quite as long as the Americans.

[Illustration: SINKING OF THE ALABAMA BY THE KEARSARGE, OFF CHERBOURG,
FRANCE.]

The successful movements of this vessel were such as to attract the
attention of Europe as well as America. Semmes, her commander, seemed
to have been adopted as a sort of English champion, and judging from
the expressions of most of the English papers, and what Americans
believed to be the effective though quiet support of the English
Government, the governing class, at least, in Great Britain were as
much pleased with the success of the Alabama as were the people of the
South. There was enough of mystery connected with the operations to
excite the imagination, and scarcely was any phantom ship ever invested
with a more unreal character than was this modern highwayman of the sea.

She seemed to be everywhere, and yet nowhere to be found when sought
for by our ships; and some were inclined to think that our naval
officers were not very anxious to find her. The result showed how
little reason there was for such an injurious suspicion. There could
be no more difficult task than to overtake a single fast steamer to
which all seas were open, and which constantly shifted her cruising
ground. She seldom entered a port, getting coal and provisions from
captured vessels, and so could not readily be traced. She burned or
sunk the captured vessels, and then disappeared. The public naturally
magnified her size, speed and power, but the Navy Department was well
informed about her, and knew just what sort of vessel to send in
pursuit of her.

Early in 1862 Captain John A. Winslow, of the United States Navy, was
sent, in command of the steam-sloop Kearsarge, to cruise on the coast
of Europe for the Alabama and her associate vessels.

He blockaded the Florida for some time, but was forced to give her a
chance to escape, by the necessity of going for coal and stores. He lay
two months off Calais, where the Rappahannock was found, and at last,
in despair of getting to sea, the Rebel cruiser was dismantled and laid
up.

Soon after this he learned that the Alabama was at Cherbourg, and he
immediately sailed for that port, and took up a position off the famous
breakwater.

Semmes was now, for the first time, placed in a position where he would
either have to fight the Kearsarge, or submit to be blockaded by a ship
in every way a fair match for him.

If he declined battle he would be disgraced in the eyes of all Europe.
Should he succeed, his victory would have a great moral effect,
especially from the scene of action attracting general attention.
People of all nations would hear of it, and augur well for the
Confederate cause, whose attention would never be drawn by such a
combat, if it occurred on the other side of the Atlantic.

Putting a bold face upon his situation, he challenged Winslow.
Considering that his ship was somewhat larger than the Kearsarge, that
she carried one more gun, and that he had trained English gunners, of
whom much was expected; more than that, that his men were confident,
from success, and had the sympathies of most of those about them, he
had good reason to hope for success.

Winslow and his crew well knew the consequences involved in the battle.
They were indignant, as all Northerners were, at the manner in which
the Alabama had been fitted out, quite as much as at her depredations
upon our commerce, and death would have been preferable to them, to
being towed, a prize, into Cherbourg harbor.

The news of the approaching battle soon spread, and was telegraphed in
every direction. Crowds came down from Paris, yachts collected, and
bets were freely made upon the result.

The writer was in Cherbourg some time after this fight, and photographs
of the Kearsarge, her officers, her battery, and the state of her
decks after the action, were in many of the shop windows still. The
Cherburgeois seemed glad that the Alabama and her English crew had been
conquered off their town. At any rate, it was their interest to appear
so, after the event. It was rather curious that no photographs of
Semmes or his officers appeared in the windows.

At length, on Sunday morning, June 19th, 1864, the Alabama, having
made all her preparations, steamed out of Cherbourg, accompanied
by the French ironclad frigate Couronne. The morning was a very
fine one; the sea calm, and with a light haze upon the water, not
sufficient to obscure the movements of the ships. The French frigate
accompanied the Alabama only so far as to make it certain that she
would not be attacked until beyond the marine league, or line of French
jurisdiction. A small steamer bearing an English yacht flag came out at
the same time, but attracted no particular attention.

The Alabama was first seen by the Kearsarge at about half-past ten, and
the latter immediately headed seaward, not only to avoid all questions
of jurisdiction, but to draw Semmes so far from shore that, in case his
vessel was partially disabled in the coming fight, she could not escape
by running into French waters.

The Kearsarge then cleared for action, with her guns pivoted to
starboard. Having reached a point about seven miles from shore, the
Kearsarge turned short on her heel, and steered straight for the
Alabama.

The moment the Kearsarge came round the Alabama sheered, presenting her
starboard battery, and slowed her engine.

Winslow’s intention was to run his adversary down, if opportunity
presented, and he therefore kept on his course. When about a mile
distant the Alabama fired a broadside, which did only very trifling
damage to the Kearsarge’s rigging. Winslow now increased his speed,
intending to strike his enemy with full force, and in the next ten
minutes the Alabama fired two more broadsides. Not a shot struck the
Kearsarge, and she made no reply; but, as the vessels were now not
more than seven hundred yards apart, Captain Winslow did not deem it
prudent to expose his ship to another raking fire, and the Kearsarge
accordingly sheered and opened fire. The ships were thus brought
broadside to broadside; but it soon became evident that Semmes did not
intend to fight a close action, and Winslow began to fear that he would
make for the shore and escape.

To prevent this, Winslow kept his vessel at full speed, intending to
run under the stern of the Alabama and secure a raking position.

To avoid this the Alabama sheered, so as to keep her broadside to the
Kearsarge, and as both vessels were under a full head of steam, they
were forced into a circular movement, steaming in opposite directions
round a common centre, with the current setting them to the westward.
Had they fought on parallel lines, with the Alabama heading inshore,
she would have reached the line of French jurisdiction, and thus
escaped. But, being thus compelled to steam in a circle, she was
about five miles from the shore when, at the close of the action, she
attempted to run into Cherbourg.

The firing of the Alabama was, throughout the action, very rapid, but
also very wild. During the first eighteen minutes not a man was injured
on board the Kearsarge. Then a 68-pound Blakely shell passed through
the starboard bulwarks, about the main rigging, and exploded on the
quarter-deck, wounding three men at the after pivot-gun, one of whom
afterwards died of his wounds. This was the only casualty among the
crew of the Kearsarge during the whole engagement.

The firing of the Kearsarge was very deliberate, and especial pains
were taken with the aiming of the two 11-inch pivot-guns. At the
distance at which they were fired, about half a mile, they were
terribly effective. One shell disabled a gun on board the Alabama, and
killed and wounded eighteen men. Another exploded in her coal-bunker,
and completely blocked the engine room. Other shells tore great gaps
in the Alabama’s sides, and it was soon evident that her race was run.
For an hour this fire was exchanged, the Kearsarge suffering little,
while almost every shot of hers struck the Alabama. The vaunted English
gunners, with their Blakely guns, did not seem to get the range. The
Kearsarge’s shell came with due deliberation, but as certain as fate,
crashing through her sides, exploding within her or upon her decks,
and sweeping away her crew, many of whom were literally torn to pieces
by the fearful missiles. She was rapidly reduced to a wreck; her decks
were strewn with the dead and wounded, and the water was pouring in the
gaps in her sides.

Semmes now made one desperate effort to escape, and suddenly bore up
for the land, and made all sail that he could. But he was too late. The
Alabama was sinking, and the water which poured into her soon put out
her fires.

One or two more shot brought down her flag. For a moment it was
uncertain whether it had been hauled down or shot away, but soon a
white flag was exposed, and the Kearsarge’s fire ceased.

In a moment more another gun was fired from the Alabama, and this was
at once returned. The Kearsarge now steamed ahead, and was laid across
the Alabama’s bows, with the intention of sinking her, but as the white
flag was still flying, the fire was reserved. Then it was seen that
the Alabama’s boats were being lowered, and an officer came alongside,
to inform Captain Winslow that the Alabama had surrendered, and was
rapidly sinking. Only two boats were in a condition to be sent to the
assistance of these people. These were promptly lowered and manned, but
before they could reach her they saw the Alabama settle by the stern,
raise her bows high in air, shake her mizzen-mast over the side, and
plunge down to the bottom of the channel. The crew were left struggling
in the water, and the boats of the Kearsarge picked up as many as they
could, and hailed the small English yacht steamer, which had come out
of Cherbourg in the morning, giving him permission, and requesting
him to assist in saving the prisoners. Both parties saved such as they
could reach, and when no more were to be seen floating, the Americans,
to their surprise, found the yacht making off, instead of delivering
the prisoners she had picked up.

[Illustration: NEW BATTLESHIP KEARSARGE.

Displacement, 11,525 tons. Speed, 16 knots. Horse-power, 10,000. Triple
screw. Length on load water line, 368 feet. Extreme breadth, 72 feet, 5
inches. Mean draught, 23 feet, 6 inches. Thickness of armor on sides,
15 inches; turrets, 17 inches; barbettes, 15 inches. Main battery, 4
13-in. breech loading rifles, 20 6-pdr., 14 5-pdr., 6 1-pdr. rapid-fire
guns, 4 Gatlings, 1 Field gun. 5 torpedo tubes. 40 officers, 480 men.]

Winslow was astonished that such a thing should be done, and, supposing
some mistake, and that they were disturbed by the catastrophe which had
just occurred, did not fire into them, as he should have done. Among
the rest, this Englishman, whose name was Lancaster, had picked up the
Captain of the Alabama.

The officer of the Alabama who came to surrender himself and the ship
had permission to return, with his boat, to assist in saving life. He
went to the English yacht and escaped in her. None of them seemed to
feel any disgrace in making off in this way while the Kearsarge was
engaged in saving life. The saddest sight of all was, that England was
not ashamed of this man Lancaster, and associated him with Semmes, in
the banquets and other recognition which the latter received in England.

It was afterwards understood that this Lancaster was a
“_nouveau-riche_,” who had a yacht, and who was glad to be seen and
identified with any notorious person. Many persons in England shared
his feelings, and when the Alabama was sunk, she was much regretted by
the rich men of Birmingham and Manchester, as well as by those of the
higher nobility, who would not, on any account, speak on equal terms
to those with whom they were in complete sympathy in the matter of our
war. We must also consider that the man Lancaster had no experience
in any kind of warfare, and that he probably knew no better, and even
thought he was doing a clever thing.

In his letter acknowledging Captain Winslow’s despatch announcing the
result of this action, Mr. Welles, the Secretary of the Navy, says:
“The Alabama represented the best maritime effort of the best English
workshops. Her battery was composed of the well-tried 32-pounders of
fifty-seven hundred weight, of the famous 68-pounder of the British
navy, and of the only successful rifled 100-pounder yet produced in
England. The crew were generally recruited in Great Britain, and many
of them received superior training on board her Majesty’s gunnery-ship,
the Excellent. The Kearsarge is one of the first gun-boats built at
our navy yards at the commencement of the Rebellion, and lacks the
improvements of the vessels now under construction.

* * * “The President has signified his intention to recommend that
you receive a vote of thanks, in order that you may be advanced to
the grade of Commodore. Lieutenant-Commander James S. Thornton, the
executive officer of the Kearsarge, will be recommended to the Senate
for advancement ten numbers in his grade.” * *

Thornton was well known in the navy for his firmness, ability and
courage.

In regard to the conduct of the English yacht, the Secretary says,
“That the wretched commander * * * should have resorted to any
dishonorable means to escape after his surrender; that he should
have thrown overboard the sword that was no longer his; that before
encountering an armed antagonist the mercenary rover should have
removed the chronometers and other plunder stolen from peaceful
commerce, are not matters of surprise, for each act is characteristic
of one who has been false to his country and flag. You could not have
expected, however, that gentlemen, or those claiming to be gentlemen,
would, on such an occasion, act in bad faith, and that, having been
called upon or permitted to assist in rescuing persons and property
which had been surrendered to you, they would run away with either.”
* * * *

“The Alabama was an English-built vessel, armed and manned by
Englishmen; has never had any other than an English register; has
never sailed under any recognized national flag since she left the
shores of England; has never visited any port of North America; and
her career of devastation since she went forth from England is one
that does not entitle those of her crew who were captured to be
paroled. This Department expressly disavows that act. Extreme caution
must be exercised, so that we in no way change the character of this
English-built and English-manned, if not English-owned, vessel, or
relieve those who may be implicated in sending forth this robber upon
the seas from any responsibility to which they may be liable for the
outrages she has committed.”

The sagacity and far-sightedness of Mr. Welles in preventing the
English Government from having any technical ground for escaping
responsibility has since been triumphantly approved by the action of
the Geneva Convention, in the damages brought in against England for
the actions of this vessel. Unfortunately the English masses had to
help to pay these damages, as well as the classes which had in every
way fostered the Rebellion.

It was stated in the English newspapers that the Kearsarge was an
ironclad in disguise; and much more powerful, in every way, than the
Alabama. Let us look at the facts.

In the first place, the two vessels were much the same in size, the
Alabama being a little longer, and about one hundred tons larger.

Captain Winslow covers the whole ground in the following statement:
“The Kearsarge’s battery consists of seven guns, two 11-inch Dahlgrens,
four 32-pounders, one light rifled 28-pounder.

“The battery of the Alabama consisted of one 100-pounder, rifled; six
32-pounders, that is, one more gun than the Kearsarge.

“In the wake of the engines on the outside the Kearsarge had stopped up
and down her sheet chains.

“These were stopped by marline to eyebolts, which extended some twenty
feet, and this was done by the hands of the Kearsarge; the whole was
covered by light plank, to prevent dirt collecting. It was for the
purpose of protecting the engines when there was no coal in the upper
part of the bunkers, as was the case when the action took place. The
Alabama had her bunkers full, and was equally protected. The Kearsarge
went into action with a crew of one hundred and sixty-two officers
and men. The Alabama, by report of the Deerhound’s officers, had one
hundred and fifty. * * * * The action lasted one hour and two minutes,
from the first to the last shot. The Kearsarge received twenty-eight
shots above and below, thirteen about her hull; the best shots were
abaft the mainmast, two shots, which cut the chain stops, the shell
of which broke the casing of wood covering; they were too high to
damage the boilers had they penetrated. The Kearsarge was only slightly
damaged, and I supposed the action for hot work had just commenced when
it ended.

“Such stuff as the Alabama firing when she was going down, and all such
talk, is twaddle.

“The Alabama, toward the last, hoisted sail to get away, when the
Kearsarge was laid across her bows, and would have raked her had she
not surrendered, which she had done, and was trying to get her flags
down, and showing a white flag over the stern.

“The officers of the Alabama on board the Kearsarge say that she was a
complete slaughter-house, and was completely torn to pieces. This is
all I know of the Alabama.

“Of the one hundred and sixty-three officers and men of the Kearsarge,
one hundred and fifty-two were native Americans, and two of the
remaining eleven were Englishmen.”

MOBILE BAY. AUGUST 5, 1864.

Farragut had returned to New York, after arduous service in the
Mississippi, which cannot be told here, and had received the hearty
congratulations and hospitalities of not only public bodies, but of all
grateful citizens. He had been made Rear Admiral, a new rank in the
United States, and had been thanked by Congress for his achievements.

But, after about four months of rest and relaxation he was called to
duty again, and early in January, 1864, he once more hoisted his flag
upon the Hartford and sailed for the Gulf. His flag-ship had received
much needed repairs, and, on examination, it was found that she had
been struck two hundred and forty times by shot and shell.

After a short stay at New Orleans, to settle naval matters there, he
visited Ship Island and Pensacola, the established depots for supplies.

He was now preparing for the long desired attack on Mobile Bay and its
defences, which he had long contemplated, and was only prevented from
carrying out before by the necessity of carrying out joint operations
on the Mississippi River.

It was impossible to prevent vessels from occasionally entering Mobile,
no matter how vigilant the blockaders were. Forts Morgan, Powell and
Gaines protected the principal channels, and the light blockade-runners
would creep along the shore, under cover of the night, under charge of
experienced pilots, and soon be under the protecting guns of the forts.
Now and then some adventurous craft would suffer for her temerity, by
being captured, or driven on shore and riddled with shot and shell;
but, still, too many got in. Most of these vessels had clearances for
Matamoros, a Mexican town on the Rio Grande.

A steamer was captured off Mobile which was evidently a blockade-runner.
The Captain was sent on board the flag-ship, to be interrogated by the
Admiral. Farragut recognized him as an old acquaintance, and one of
the most experienced merchant captains in the Gulf trade. The Admiral
asked him what in the world he was doing close in with Mobile, when
he was three hundred miles out of his course for Matamoros. The
Captain entered into a long story about having been swept in shore
by a northeast gale. When he had finished, Farragut smiled and said,
“How could you be blown to the northward and eastward by a northeast
gale? I am very sorry for you, but we shall have to hold you for your
thundering bad navigation.” Among the articles captured in this vessel
were one thousand copies of a caricature of General Butler, who has
certainly had notoriety conferred upon him in that way as often as any
one who ever lived.

Personal reconnoissances and skirmishes with the different forts about
Mobile occupied the Admiral for some time, and he recognized the
importance of having light draft ironclads to fight those which the
enemy were preparing.

He wrote, “I feel no apprehension about Buchanan’s raising the blockade
at Mobile, but with such a force as he has in the Bay, it would be
unwise to take in our wooden vessels, without the means of fighting the
enemy on an equal footing. By reference to the chart you will see how
small a space there is for the ships to manœuvre.”

On the 2d of March he wrote, “I saw the Mobile ram Tennessee yesterday.
She is very long, and I thought moved very slowly.”

He was most anxious to make the attack upon Mobile, as every week’s
delay rendered the work more dangerous. But he was delayed by the
necessity of awaiting ships.

In the meantime stirring work was going on inland, and the armies
grappling in the fight of giants. Farragut’s letters show that he was
keenly alive to all that was going on, although the mental strain upon
him in keeping up the blockade and in preparing for the undertaking he
had in view, was very great.

In a letter written in May he says, “We have the Southern papers of the
17th, and yet they contain no news. All is dark with respect to Grant
and Lee. Grant has done one thing. He has gone to work making war and
doing his best, and kept newsmongers out of his army. The only comfort
I have is, that the Confederates are more unhappy, if possible, than we
are.”

“We started with few good officers of experience, but shall end with
some of the best in the world. Our fellows are beginning to understand
that war means fighting.”

To Admiral Bailey, at Key West, he writes, “I am watching Buchanan, in
the ram Tennessee. She is a formidable looking thing, and there are
four others, and three wooden gun-boats. They say he is waiting for the
two others to come out and attack me, and then raid upon New Orleans.
Let him come. I have a fine squadron to meet him, all ready and
willing. I can see his boats very industriously laying down torpedoes,
so I judge that he is quite as much afraid of our going in as we are
of his coming out.”

On June 21st he writes, “I am tired of watching Buchanan and Page,
and wish from the bottom of my heart that Buck would come out and
try his hand upon us. This question has to be settled, iron _versus_
wood, and there never was a better chance to settle the question as
to the sea-going qualities of ironclad ships. We are to-day ready
to try anything that comes along, be it wood or iron, in reasonable
quantities. Anything is preferable to lying on our oars. But I shall
have patience until the army has finished its campaign in Virginia and
Georgia. I hope it will be the close of the war.”

On the 6th of July, he writes, “My birth-day; sixty-three years old.
I was a little down in the mouth, because I thought we had not done
as well as we ought to, in destroying a blockade-runner that tried to
force her way by us. But Dyer, in the Glasgow, ran her on shore under
the guns of Fort Morgan, and I had been trying to get the gun-boats to
destroy her, but they did bad work, and the Rebels were at it, night
before last, trying to get her off. I determined to send a party to
board and set her on fire. Watson volunteered for the work, and I sent
him, with Tyson, Ensign Dana, Whiting, Glidden, and Pendleton, and
Master’s Mate Herrick. Jouett and McCann covered the party. Well, as
you may suppose, it was an anxious night for me; for I am almost as
fond of Watson as yourself, and interested in the others. I thought it
was to be a hand-to-hand fight, if any. I sat up till midnight, and
then thought they had found the enemy in too great force, and had given
it up; so I laid down to rest. About half an hour later the Rebel was
reported to be on fire, and I was happy, because I had heard no firing,
and I knew the surprise was perfect. And so it turned out. The Rebels
scampered off as our fellows climbed on board. The boats returned about
2 o’clock A. M., all safe, no one hurt. I was anxious until their
return. But no one knows what my feelings are; I am always calm and
quiet.”

“I have never seen a crew come up like our’s. They are ahead of the
old set in small arms, and fully equal to them at the great guns. They
arrived here a new lot of boys and young men, and have now fattened
up, and knock the nine-inch guns about like 24-pounders, to the
astonishment of everybody.”

One more extract--for these show the man:--

On July 20th, he wrote, “The victory of the Kearsarge over the Alabama
raised me up. I would sooner have fought that fight than any ever
fought on the ocean. Only think! it was fought like a tournament,
in full view of thousands of French and English, with a perfect
confidence, on the part of all but the Union people, that we would be
whipped. People came from Paris to witness the fight. Why, my poor
little good-for-nothing Hatteras would have whipped her (the Alabama)
in fifteen minutes, but for an unlucky shot in the boiler. She struck
the Alabama two shots for one, while she floated. But the triumph of
the Kearsarge was grand. Winslow had my old First Lieutenant of the
Hartford, Thornton, in the Kearsarge. He is as brave as a lion, and as
cool as a parson. I go for Winslow’s promotion!”

On the 31st of July all the monitors sent to Farragut had arrived,
except the Tecumseh, and she was at Pensacola, to be ready in a day or
two.

The preparations for the attack upon the Mobile defences were now about
completed, and Farragut had apprised each of his Commanders of his
plans for passing into the Bay.

Generals Canby and Granger had visited the Hartford, and in this
interview it was agreed that all the troops that could be spared should
be sent to co-operate with the fleet in the attack upon Forts Morgan
and Gaines.

Subsequently Canby found he had not force sufficient to invest both
forts; so, at Farragut’s suggestion, he sent a body of troops to land
on Dauphin Island, near Fort Gaines. The Admiral appreciated the
assistance of the army in this case, and the responsibility of his
position. He was not the man to begin the attack without having taken
every precaution to insure success. He said he was ready to take the
offensive the moment the troops were ready to act with him; that there
was no doing anything with these forts so long as their back doors
were open. More than that, his communications had to be kept open for
supplies, which required a force of troops to cut off all the enemy’s
land communications with Mobile.

The 4th of August had been fixed as the day for the landing of the
troops and the entrance into the Bay, but the Tecumseh was not ready.
General Granger promptly landed his troops on Dauphin Island at that
date. As it turned out, all was for the best, for the Confederates were
busily engaged, during the 4th, in throwing troops and supplies into
Fort Gaines, all of which were captured a few days afterward.

The attack was then postponed until the 5th, and Farragut wrote a
letter to his wife that night, which is a model of its kind, and shows
he fully appreciated the desperate work before him.

For it we must refer the reader to his Life, by his son, from which
this account is principally taken.

The battle of Mobile Bay was, very properly, the crowning achievement
of Farragut’s naval career, for it was the most brilliant action in
which he ever took part.

The defences of the Bay, at the time of his attack, consisted mainly
of three forts, Morgan, Gaines and Powell. Fort Morgan was one of the
old brick forts, with a wall four feet eight inches thick. It is on the
west end of a peninsula which encloses the Bay, called Mobile Point,
and forms, with Gaines, the principal defence of the main ship channel
to the Gulf. It was armed with eighty-six guns, of various calibre,
some very heavy, and in exterior batteries were twenty-nine additional
guns. The water battery had two rifled 32s, four 10-inch Columbiads,
and one 8-inch Brookes rifle. The garrison, officers and men, numbered
six hundred and forty.

Fort Gaines is three miles northwest from Fort Morgan, at the eastern
extremity of Dauphin Island. This is also a brick fort, and mounted
thirty guns, with a garrison of forty-six officers and eight hundred
and eighteen men.

On the flats south and east of Fort Gaines innumerable piles were
driven, to obstruct the passage of vessels, and from these, two lines
of torpedoes extended towards Fort Morgan, terminating at a point a few
hundred yards from that fort, marked by a red buoy. This portion of
the passage was left open for the use of blockade-runners, and vessels
using it had to pass within easy range of the guns of the fort.

Six miles northeast of Fort Gaines is another narrow channel, only fit
for light draught vessels, called Grant’s pass. There was a redoubt
there, mounted with four very heavy guns.

Auxiliary to this land defence the iron-clad steamer Tennessee lay
about five hundred yards north of Fort Morgan. She was two hundred and
nine feet long and forty feet wide, with an iron prow projecting two
feet below the water line. Her sloping sides were covered with armor
varying in thickness from five to six inches. She carried six rifled
guns in casemate, two of which were pivot, and the others broadside
guns, throwing solid projectiles of one hundred and ten and ninety-five
pounds respectively. The ports, of which there were ten, were so
arranged that the pivot guns could be fought in broadside, sharp on
the bow, and in a direct line with her keel. Her great defect was in
the steering-gear, which was badly arranged and much exposed. Near her
were anchored three wooden gun-boats, the Morgan, Gaines and Selma. The
first carried one 63 cwt. eight-inch gun, and five 57 cwt. 32-pounders;
the Gaines, one eight-inch Brooke rifle and five 57 cwt. 32-pounders;
the Selma, three eight-inch Paixhans and one old-fashioned heavy
thirty-two, converted into a rifle and banded at the breech, throwing a
solid shot of about sixty pounds.

Farragut had long before issued general orders in regard to the attack,
and made no secret of his intention to attack. They were as follows:--

“Strip your vessels and prepare for the conflict. Send down all your
superfluous spars and spare rigging. Put up the splinter-nets on the
starboard side, and barricade the wheel and steers-men with sails and
hammocks. Lay chains or sand bags on the deck, over the machinery, to
resist a plunging fire. Hang the sheet chains over the side, or make
any other arrangement for security that your ingenuity may suggest.
Land your starboard boats, or lower and tow them on the port side,
and lower the port boats down to the water’s edge. Place a leadsman
and the pilot in the port quarter-boat, or the one most convenient to
the Commander.

“The vessels will run past the forts in couples, lashed side by side,
as hereinafter designated. The flag-ship will lead and steer from
Sand Island N. by E., by compass, until abreast of Fort Morgan, then
N.W., half N., until past the middle ground, then N. by W., and the
others, as designated in the drawing, will follow in due order, until
ordered to anchor; but the bow and quarter line must be preserved, to
give the chase guns a fair range, and each vessel must be kept astern
of the broadside of the next ahead; each vessel will keep a very
little on the starboard quarter of his next ahead, and when abreast
of the fort will keep directly astern, and as we pass the fort, will
take the same distance on the port quarter of the next ahead, to
enable the stern guns to fire clear of the next vessel astern.

“It will be the object of the Admiral to get as close to the fort
as possible before opening fire; the ships, however, will open fire
the moment the enemy opens upon us, with their chase and other guns,
as fast as they can be brought to bear. Use short fuses for the
shell and shrapnel, and as soon as within 300 or 400 yards, give
them grape. It is understood that heretofore we have fired too high,
but with grape-shot, it is necessary to elevate a little above the
object, as grape will dribble from the muzzle of the gun.

“If one or more of the vessels be disabled, their partners must carry
them through, if possible; but if they cannot, then the next astern
must render the required assistance; but as the Admiral contemplates
moving with the flood tide, it will only require sufficient power to
keep the crippled vessels in the channel.

“Vessels that can, must place guns upon the poop and top-gallant
forecastle, and in the tops on the starboard side. Should the enemy
fire grape, they will remove the men from the top-gallant forecastle
and the poop to the guns below, until out of grape range.

“The howitzers must keep up a constant fire from the time they can
reach with shrapnel until out of its range.” * * * * “There are
certain black buoys placed by the enemy across the channel, from
the piles on the west side of the channel towards Fort Morgan. It
being understood that there are torpedoes and other obstructions
between the buoys, the vessels will take care to pass eastward of the
easternmost buoy, which is clear of all obstructions. The Admiral
will endeavor to remove the others before the day of attack, as he
thinks they support that which will otherwise sink, and at least
to destroy them for guides to the demons who hope to explode them.
So soon as the vessel is opposite the end of the piles, it will be
best to stop the propeller of the ship, and let her run in with her
headway and the tide, and those having side-wheel gun-boats will
continue on with the aid of their paddles, which are not likely to
foul with their drag-ropes.

D. G. FARRAGUT,
_Rear-Admiral, Commander Western Gulf Squadron_.

P. S.--Carry low steam.

D. G. F.”

As has been already mentioned, Farragut had fully determined to run
into the bay, on the 4th of August, but had been prevented from doing
so by the non-arrival of the monitor Tecumseh. But on the afternoon of
the 4th she arrived, and took up her anchorage behind Sand Island, with
the others of her class--the Winnebago, Manhattan, and Chickasaw.

On the morning of the 5th, long before daylight, all hands were
called “up hammocks,” and while the Admiral, his Fleet-Captain and
Fleet-Surgeon were having breakfast, daylight was reported, with
weather threatening rain. It was Friday, a day of bad omen for sailors;
but the clouds worked round, and the day came fair, which was, on the
other hand, a good omen. The wind was west-southwest, too, just where
the fleet wanted it, for it would blow the smoke upon Fort Morgan.

At four o’clock the wooden ships formed in double column, lashed
securely in pairs, in the following order, the first mentioned of each
pair being the starboard vessel, or that next the fort. (The Admiral
had concluded to let another ship lead, and he was second.) Here is the
order:--

{Brooklyn, Captain James Alden.
{Octorara, Lieutenant-Commander Green.

{Hartford (flag-ship), Fleet-Captain Drayton.
{Metacomet, Lieutenant-Commander Jouett.

{Richmond, Captain Thornton Jenkins.
{Port Royal, Lieutenant-Commander Gherardi.

{Lackawanna, Captain Marchand.
{Seminole, Commander Donaldson.

{Monongahela, Commander J. H. Strong.
{Kennebec, Lieutenant-Commander McCann.

{Ossipee, Commander Wm. E. LeRoy.
{Itasca, Lieutenant-Commander George Brown.

{Oneida, Commander Mullany.
{Galena, Lieutenant-Commander Wells.

The Brooklyn was appointed to lead, because she had four chase guns and
apparatus for picking up torpedoes.

At half-past five, while at the table, still sipping his tea, the
Admiral quietly said, “Well, Drayton, we might as well get under way.”

Immediately the answering signals were shown from every vessel, and
the wooden vessels promptly took up their respective stations, while
the monitors came out from under Sand Island and formed on the right
of the wooden ships, as follows: Tecumseh, Commander T. A. M. Craven;
Manhattan, Commander J. W. A. Nicholson; (these were single-turreted,
Eastern built, or sea monitors). The Winnebago, Commander T. A.
Stevens; and the Chickasaw, Lieutenant-Commander Perkins, followed.
The two last were double-turreted, Western built monitors, from the
Mississippi river.

The leading monitor was abreast of the leading wooden ship.

The Confederate vessels took up position in single line, in _echelon_,
across the channel, with their port batteries bearing to rake the
advancing fleet. The ram Tennessee was a little westward of the red
buoy spoken of already, and close to the inner line of torpedoes.

Farragut had ordered six light steamers and gun-boats to take up a
position outside, and open a flank fire on Fort Morgan, but they could
not get near enough to be of much service.

And now the attacking fleet steamed steadily in. At 6.47 the first gun
was fired by the monitor Tecumseh, and Fort Morgan at once replied.
As the wooden vessels came within shorter range Farragut made signal
for “closer order,” which was promptly obeyed, each vessel closing up
to within a few yards of the one ahead, and a little on the starboard
quarter, thus enabling such ships as had chase guns to bring them to
bear.

The battle had opened, but at that time the enemy had the advantage,
and the fleet now received a raking fire from the fort, battery, and
Confederate vessels. This they had to endure for fully half an hour,
before they could bring their batteries to bear with any effect. At the
end of that time the Brooklyn and Hartford were enabled to open their
broadsides, which soon drove the gunners of the fort from the barbette
guns and water batteries.

The scene on the poop of the flag-ship was now particularly
interesting, as all were watching eagerly the movements of the leading
monitor, Tecumseh. The Admiral stood in the port main rigging, a few
ratlines up, where he could see all about him and at the same time
communicate easily with the Metacomet, lashed alongside. Freeman, his
trusty pilot, was above him, in the top. Captain Drayton was on the
poop, with the officers of the Admiral’s staff, while Knowles, the
Signal Quartermaster, attended to the signals. This petty officer, with
the three seamen at the wheel, McFarland, Wood and Jassin, had been in
every engagement of the ship, and steadily and coolly they now attended
to their most important duties. All these were nearly stationary. The
men at the wheel merely gave a spoke or two of helm, from time to time,
in response to a short order.

On the deck below, the gun crews were working with a will, and all was
animation and bustle.

As the smoke increased and obscured his view, the Admiral ascended
the rigging, ratline by ratline, until he was up among the futtock
shrouds, under the top. Captain Drayton, seeing him in this position,
and fearing that some slight shock might precipitate him into the
sea, ordered Knowles to take up a line, and make his position secure.
Knowles says, “I went up with a piece of lead-line, and made it fast to
one of the forward shrouds, and then took it round the Admiral to the
after shroud, making it fast there. The Admiral said, ‘Never mind, I am
all right,’ but I went ahead and obeyed orders, for I feared he would
fall overboard if anything should carry away or he should be struck.”
Here Farragut remained until the fleet entered the bay.

Loyall Farragut gives a striking extract from the journal of one of the
Hartford’s officers, as follows: “The order was, to go slowly, slowly;
and receive the fire of Fort Morgan. * * * * The fort opened, having
allowed us to get into such short range that we apprehended some snare;
in fact, I heard the order passed for our guns to be elevated for
fourteen hundred yards some time before one was fired. The calmness of
the scene was sublime. No impatience, no irritation, no anxiety, except
for the fort to open; and after it did open full five minutes elapsed
before we answered.

“In the meantime the guns were trained as if at a target, and all the
sounds I could hear were, ‘Steady! boys, steady! Left tackle a little;
so! so!’ Then the roar of a broadside, and an eager cheer, as the
enemy were driven from their water battery. Don’t imagine they were
frightened; no man could stand under that iron shower; and the brave
fellows returned to their guns as soon as it lulled, only to be driven
away again.

“At twenty minutes past seven we had come within range of the enemy’s
gun-boats, which opened their fire upon the Hartford, and as the
Admiral told me afterward, made her their special target. First they
struck our foremast, and then lodged a shot of 120 pounds in our
mainmast. By degrees they got better elevation, and I have saved a
splinter from the hammock netting to show how they felt their way
lower. Splinters, after that, came by cords, and in size, sometimes,
were like logs of wood. No longer came the cheering cry, ‘nobody hurt
yet.’ The Hartford, by some unavoidable chance, fought the enemy’s
fleet and fort together for twenty minutes by herself, timbers
crashing, and wounded pouring down--cries never to be forgotten.”

By half-past seven the Tecumseh was well up with the fort, and drawing
slowly by the Tennessee, having her on the port beam, when she suddenly
reeled to port and went down, with almost every soul on board,
destroyed by a torpedo. Commander Craven, in his eagerness to engage
the ram, had passed to the west of the fatal buoy. If he had gone but
the breadth of his beam to the eastward of it, he would have been safe,
so far as the torpedoes were concerned.

This very appalling disaster was not immediately realized by the fleet.
Some supposed the Tennessee had been sunk, or some signal advantage
gained over the enemy, and cheers from the Hartford were taken up
and echoed along the line. But the Admiral, from his lofty perch,
saw the true state of things, and his anxiety was not decreased when
the leading ship, the Brooklyn, just ahead of him, suddenly stopped.
Hailing the top, above him, he asked Freeman, the pilot, “What is
the matter with the Brooklyn? She must have plenty of water there.”
“Plenty, and to spare, Admiral,” the pilot replied. Alden had seen the
Tecumseh suddenly engulfed, and the heavy line of torpedoes across the
channel made him pause.

The Brooklyn then began to back; the vessels in the rear pressing on
those in the van soon created confusion, and disaster seemed imminent.
“The batteries of our ships were almost silent,” says an eye-witness,
“while the whole of Mobile Point was a living flame.

[Illustration: FARRAGUT ENTERING MOBILE BAY.]

“What’s the trouble?” was shouted, through a trumpet, from the
flag-ship to the Brooklyn. “Torpedoes!” was shouted back, in reply.
“Damn the torpedoes!” said Farragut “Four bells! Captain Drayton, go
ahead! Jouett, full speed!” And the Hartford passed the Brooklyn,
assumed the head of the line, and led the fleet to victory. It was
the one only way out of the difficulty, and any hesitation would have
closed even this escape from a frightful disaster. Nor did the Admiral
forget the few poor fellows who were struggling in the water when
the Tecumseh went down, but ordered Jouett, of the Metacomet, to lower
a boat and pick them up. This was done, the boat being commanded
by a mere boy, an Acting Master’s mate, by the name of Henry Clay
Nields, a native of Chester County, Pennsylvania, who lately died, a
Lieutenant-Commander. This gallant fellow and his small boat’s crew
pulled coolly into a perfect flurry of shot and shell, and while doing
so (remembering the standing orders about boats showing flags), he
coolly got his out and hoisted it, and then took his seat again, and
steered for the struggling survivors of the Tecumseh. This was as
conspicuous an act of gallantry as was performed on that eventful day.

A Confederate officer, who was stationed in the water battery at Fort
Morgan, says the manœuvring of the vessels at this critical juncture
was a magnificent sight. At first they appeared to be in inextricable
confusion, and at the mercy of their guns, and when the Hartford
dashed forward, they realized that a grand tactical movement had been
accomplished.

The Hartford had passed nearly a mile ahead before the line could be
straightened, but the vessels were soon able to pour in a storm of
shell, shrapnel and grape, that completely silenced the batteries;
not, however, before they had all suffered more or less. The Oneida,
having the most exposed position, at the rear of the column, was
severely handled. The wisdom of lashing the vessels two-and-two was
now manifest; for this ship, though in a helpless condition, was
easily towed along by her consort, the Galena, with the flood-tide.
The Admiral’s theory, “that the safest way to prevent injury from an
enemy is to strike hard yourself,” was exemplified in his warning to
his captains, to run close to Fort Morgan, and use shell, shrapnel and
grape freely. It is said that the Richmond and Brooklyn were saved
from destruction at the time the line was being straightened, by the
rapid broadsides of shrapnel which those ships poured into the water
battery. The aim of the artillerists on shore was disconcerted by the
dense smoke which enveloped the ships, and they were driven from their
guns by the rapid firing. An officer who was in the engagement remarks,
that it was “painfully apparent, judging from the number of shot that
passed over the rail of my ship, that a few yards to the west would
have increased the damage and casualties.”

As soon as the Hartford had crossed the torpedo-ground and was steaming
rapidly up the channel, Buchanan, on the Tennessee, saw the blue
flag of Farragut. He made a dash to ram the latter’s flag-ship, but
failed to do so, the ships merely exchanging shots. By this time the
Brooklyn and Richmond had passed safely over the obstructions, and
were following in the wake of the Hartford. The Tennessee now turned
her attention to the Brooklyn, making for her starboard bow; but when
within about one hundred yards of that ship, she starboarded her helm
and passed within two hundred feet of her, pouring in a broadside
which went through and through her, doing great damage. Passing on,
she attempted the same manœuvre with the Richmond, the next in line,
apparently first attempting to ram, and then sheering off. Captain
Jenkins saw her approaching, and placed marines on the forecastle, with
orders to fire into the great ram’s ports whenever the iron shutters
opened, at the same time giving orders to use solid shot in his heavy
guns, and to aim at the Tennessee’s water-line. The two vessels passed
each other at their best speed.

Whether from the rapidity of the movement or the precaution taken by
Captain Jenkins to disconcert the aim of the gunners, the Tennessee’s
shot passed over the Richmond.

She also missed the Lackawanna, but the fire from her heavy guns
created sad havoc when they struck, while the shot from the Union fleet
failed to make any impression on her mailed sides.

Captain Strong, in the Monongahela, now attempted to ram her, but she
avoided the blow, and the two vessels collided at an acute angle, the
ram swinging alongside of the Monongahela’s consort, the Kennebec,
whose sharp cutwater sheared her barge in two. A shell from the
Tennessee exploded on the Kennebec’s berth-deck, and came near setting
her dangerously on fire; but, by the cool conduct of the officers,
confidence was quickly restored.

The ram then attacked the crippled Oneida, running under her stern and
delivering two broadsides in rapid succession, destroying her boats
and dismounting a twelve-pound howitzer upon her poop. Captain Mullany
was severely wounded at this time, after having escaped injury off the
forts, where he had borne so heavy a fire.

The Tennessee then returned to her anchorage under the guns of Fort
Morgan.

As soon as he was clear of the fire of the forts, Farragut had turned
his attention to the enemy’s gun-boats. Their heavy raking fire had
been a source of great annoyance. One shot from the Selma, alone,
had killed ten men and wounded five. After the fleet had passed the
obstructions these vessels had continued the contest, keeping up with
the leading ships and exchanging shots, thus separating themselves
widely from the Tennessee.

Soon the Gaines was in a sinking condition, and her commander ran her
aground, under the guns of Fort Morgan, where she was afterwards set on
fire.

A few minutes after she had quitted the fight, the Selma and Morgan,
seeing the hopelessness of the encounter, also retreated, the former up
the bay, and the latter down towards Navy Cove, some distance to the
eastward.

It was then that the Admiral made the signal, “Gunboats chase enemy’s
gunboats.” In a moment the Metacomet had cut the lashings which
confined her to the flagship, and was off.

The Metacomet was the fastest of all the smaller vessels, and so it
came that she engaged the Morgan. Just then firing was interrupted
by a thick rain-squall. During the squall the Morgan, as was learned
afterwards, grounded upon a long spit which runs out for about a mile
from Navy Cove.

In the meantime the Metacomet, Port Royal, Kennebec, and Itasca had
started after the Selma, and the Metacomet captured her, three or four
miles up the bay. The Morgan backed off the shoal, and proceeded to
Fort Morgan; and that same night, under a starlit sky, her captain,
Harrison, made a hazardous but successful retreat up to Mobile, being
pursued and fired at by several of the Union gun-boats.

Farragut’s fleet now came to anchor about three miles up the bay, with
anchors hove short. They had scarcely done so when they saw the ram
Tennessee steering directly for the flag-ship. Buchanan had anticipated
Admiral Farragut, for the latter had intended to attack the ram the
moment it was dark enough for the smoke to prevent Page, the commander
of the fort, from distinguishing friend from foe. He had already made
a plan to go in with the three monitors, himself in the Manhattan, and
board her, if it was found feasible. He now accepted the situation, and
signalled the fleet to “attack the ram, not only with their guns, but
bows on, at full speed.”

The Monongahela was under way at the time, and Strong immediately
dashed off for the ram at full speed; but the Tennessee paid no
attention to her, merely putting her helm aport, which caused the
Monongahela to strike her obliquely. The ram also fired two shots at
the Monongahela, which pierced her through and through, while Strong’s
shot glanced harmlessly from her sloping sides.

The Chickasaw at this time hit the ram with a solid bolt, which merely
penetrated her armor, without doing serious damage.

The next vessel to bear down on the Tennessee was the Lackawanna, and
she suffered more than the ram. She had a fair stroke at her, and stove
her bow in for some feet above and below the water-line, while the
shock to the Tennessee was slight, and she quickly righted, and moved
steadily for the Hartford. The latter now took the aggressive, and,
following in the wake of the Lackawanna, struck the ram a fearful blow,
and then poured in a broadside, but all without effect.

The ram had one great advantage. She was surrounded by enemies, and
could fire continually, while the Union vessels had to use the utmost
care not to fire into or collide with one another. This did happen to
the flag-ship, just as she was preparing to attack a second time, for
the Lackawanna ran into her, and cut her down nearly to the water’s
edge.

In the meantime the monitors, Manhattan, Winnebago and Chickasaw, had
been pounding the ram with their heavy shot, and her steering apparatus
and smoke-stack were shot away, and her port-shutters jammed, while
one 15-inch shot had found a weak spot, and penetrated her armor.
Admiral Buchanan was wounded, and the Tennessee showed a white flag and
surrendered.

The success was complete, but had cost the Union fleet three hundred
and thirty-five men.

Of one hundred and thirty souls in the Tecumseh, seventeen were
saved, and one hundred and thirteen drowned. The other casualties,
fifty-two killed and one hundred and seventy wounded, were distributed
as follows: Hartford, twenty-five killed, twenty-eight wounded;
Brooklyn, eleven killed, forty-three wounded; Lackawanna, four killed,
thirty-five wounded; Oneida, eight killed, thirty wounded; Monongahela,
six wounded; Metacomet, one killed, two wounded; Ossipee, one killed,
seven wounded; Richmond, two slightly wounded; Galena, one wounded;
Octorara, one killed, ten wounded; Kennebec, one killed, six wounded.

Knowles, the Signal Quartermaster already mentioned, says that the
Admiral came on deck just as the poor fellows who had been killed were
being laid out on the port side of the quarter-deck. He says, “It was
the only time I ever saw the old gentleman cry, but the tears came in
his eyes, like a little child.”

The losses among the enemy’s vessels were confined to the Tennessee and
Selma--ten killed and sixteen wounded. The loss in the forts is not
known.

Next morning Farragut published the following:--

(GENERAL ORDER No. 12.)

UNITED STATES FLAG-SHIP HARTFORD,

MOBILE BAY, August 6, 1864.

“The Admiral returns thanks to the officers and crews of the vessels
of the fleet for their gallant conduct during the fight of yesterday.

“It has never been his good fortune to see men do their duty with
more courage and cheerfulness; for, although they knew that the enemy
was prepared with all devilish means for our destruction, and though
they witnessed the almost instantaneous annihilation of our gallant
companions in the Tecumseh by a torpedo, and the slaughter of their
friends, messmates and gun-mates on our decks, still there were no
evidences of hesitation in following their Commander-in-chief through
the line of torpedoes and obstructions, of which we knew nothing,
except from the exaggerations of the enemy, who had given out, ‘that
we should all be blown up as certainly as we attempted to enter.’

“For this noble and implicit confidence in their leader, he heartily
thanks them.

“D. G. FARRAGUT,

“_Rear-Admiral Commanding W. G. B. Squadron_.”

The gallantry of Acting Ensign Nields, in going to the rescue of the
survivors of the Tecumseh has been alluded to. In connection with that
lamentable event it is related that when the monitor was going down,
Commander Craven and the pilot, whose name was Collins, met at the foot
of the ladder leading to the top of the turret; Craven, knowing that
it was through no fault of the pilot, but by his own order, that the
course had been changed to the other side of the buoy, stepped back,
saying, “After you, Pilot.” “There was nothing after me,” said Mr.
Collins, in relating the event, “for when I reached the top round of
the ladder the vessel seemed to drop from under me.” Among those who
went down with Craven was Chief Engineer Faron, who rose from a sick
bed, in the hospital at Pensacola, to go on board the Tecumseh.

Admiral Farragut highly complimented Fleet-Surgeon Palmer, for certain
extra service. It happened that the Admiral’s steam barge came into
the bay, under the port side of the Seminole. Fleet-Surgeon Palmer,
having attended to the wounded on board the flag-ship, and leaving them
in the hands of his assistants, wished to visit the wounded of the
other vessels, and the Admiral gave him the steam barge. He had just
shoved off when the Tennessee was seen steaming for the Hartford. The
Admiral beckoned to Palmer, just before he made the general signal,
and desired him to “go to all the monitors, and tell them to attack
that Tennessee.” Afterwards he wrote to Dr. Palmer, and expressing some
opinions in regard to war duty, says, * * * “I am happy to say that,
from my own experience, _war_ is the time when I have always found the
medical officers ready and willing to do their duty without regard to
personal risk.” * * *

When a shot perforated the starboard boiler of the Oneida, scalding
thirteen men, one gun’s crew wavered for a moment as the steam rushed
out, but, at the order of Commander Mullany, “Back to your quarters,
men!” they instantly returned to their gun. Mullany soon after lost his
arm, and was wounded in several other places.

The incident of Farragut’s being lashed aloft has created much
controversy. The fact of his being lashed in the futtock shrouds was
shown in a picture by Page, which was afterwards presented to the
Emperor of Russia. The fact was, that the Admiral did not remain long
anywhere. While the fleet was entering the bay, he was in the port main
rigging, where he was secured by Knowles, the Quartermaster, as has
been mentioned. But when the ram made her attack he had come down on
deck, and, as the Hartford was about to ram the Tennessee, he got into
the port mizzen rigging, where, as his Flag-Lieutenant, J. Crittenden
Watson, says, “I secured him by a lashing passed with my own hands,
having first begged him not to stand in such an exposed place.”

Surgeon General Palmer writes: “The Richmond waved to me as I passed
in the Loyall (the steam-barge), and told me that Admiral Farragut had
partly signalled for me to return, which I did immediately. When I got
near enough to the Hartford, the Admiral himself hailed, and directed
me to go on board the captured ram and look after Admiral Buchanan, who
was wounded. It was difficult, even from a boat, to get on board the
Tennessee, and I had to make a long leap, assisted by a strong man’s
hand. I literally scrambled through the iron port, and threaded my way
among the piles of confusion, to a ladder, by which I mounted to where
Admiral Buchanan was lying, in a place like the top of a truncated
pyramid. Somebody announced me, and he answered (tone polite, but
savage) ‘I know Dr. Palmer;’ but he gave me his hand. I told him I was
sorry to see him so badly hurt, but that I should be glad to know his
wishes. He answered, ‘I only wish to be treated kindly, as a prisoner
of war.’ My reply was, ‘Admiral Buchanan, you know perfectly well you
will be treated kindly.’ Then he said, ‘I am a Southern man, and an
enemy, and a rebel.’ I felt a little offended at his tone, but rejoined
carefully that he was at that moment a wounded person and disabled, and
that I would engage to have his wishes fulfilled. As to the present
disposal of his person, that Admiral Farragut would take him on board
the Hartford, or send him to any other ship he might prefer. He said
he didn’t pretend to be Admiral Farragut’s friend, and had no right to
ask favors of him, but that he would be satisfied with any decision
that might be come to. Dr. Conrad, lately an assistant Surgeon in our
Navy, told me he was Fleet-Surgeon, and desired to accompany Buchanan
wherever he might go. (It had been proposed by Dr. Conrad to amputate
the injured leg of the Confederate Admiral, but Palmer dissented from
his opinion, and declined to have the operation performed, and for his
skillful management of the case received grateful acknowledgments, in
after life, from Buchanan.) “I promised that he should, and returned
to the Hartford, and reported to Admiral Farragut, circumstantially.
This generous man seemed hurt at Buchanan’s irritated feeling, and
said he (Buchanan) _had_ formerly professed friendship for him. I
saw there must be some embarrassment in bringing them together, and
therefore proposed that I should have a steamer to take all the wounded
to Pensacola, and another one to send all ordinary invalids to New
Orleans.”

To carry out this suggestion Farragut addressed a note to
Brigadier-General R. L. Page, commanding Fort Morgan (formerly of the
United States Navy), informing him that Admiral Buchanan and others of
the Tennessee had been wounded, and desiring to know whether he would
permit one of our vessels, under a flag of truce, to convey them, with
or without our wounded, to Pensacola, on the understanding that the
vessel should take out none but the wounded, and bring nothing back
that she did not take out. This was acceded to, and all the wounded
sent.

In his official report to the Navy Department, Admiral Farragut, after
awarding praise to many of the officers, mentioning them by name,
says, “The last of my staff to whom I would call the attention of
the Department is not the least in importance. I mean Pilot Martin
Freeman. He has been my great reliance in all difficulties, in his
line of duty. During the action he was in the main-top, piloting the
ships into the bay. He was cool and brave throughout, never losing
his self-possession. This man was captured, early in the war, in a
fine fishing-smack, which he owned, and though he protested he had no
interest in the war, and only asked for the privilege of fishing for
the fleet, yet his services were too valuable to the captors, as a
pilot, not to be secured. He was appointed a first-class pilot, and has
served us with zeal and fidelity, and has lost his vessel, which went
to pieces on Ship Island. I commend him to the Department.”

The importance of Farragut’s success was fully appreciated, both North
and South, while an English Service paper named him as “the first naval
officer of the day, as far as actual reputation, won by skill, courage
and hard fighting, goes.”

General Granger’s troops, after Forts Gaines and Powell had
surrendered, had been transferred to the rear of Fort Morgan, and that
work was invested on August 9th.

Page was summoned to surrender, but firmly refused, and seemed disposed
to hold out stubbornly. It then became a question of time. Troops were
poured in, heavy siege guns placed in position, and the investing lines
drawn closer and closer. Even the captured Tennessee’s formidable
battery was turned against the fort. A battery of four nine-inch
Dahlgren guns, manned by seamen from the fleet, and under the command
of Lieutenant Tyson, of the Navy, also took part in the siege. General
Granger, in his report of the operations, compliments them highly, not
only for their faithful work “in getting their guns into the difficult
position selected for their batteries,” but for “their distinguished
skill and accuracy during the bombardment.”

After a furious cannonade, on August 22d, which was gallantly responded
to by Morgan, that fort surrendered unconditionally on the 23d.

The total number of prisoners captured in the defences of Mobile was
one thousand four hundred and sixty-four, with one hundred and four
guns.

Mobile forts being once secured, Farragut next turned his attention to
the dangerous work of taking up torpedoes, twenty-one of which were
picked up in the main ship channel, from which many beside had been
swept away, and many had sunk.

On September 1st despatches arrived from the North, marked ‘Important.’
These proved to be from the Navy Department, warning him not to attempt
an attack upon the Mobile defences unless he was sure that he had a
sufficient force, as powerful reinforcements would be sent to him as
soon as possible. We can imagine his satisfaction in looking round him,
and feeling that the work was done.

In his congratulatory letter to Admiral Farragut, Secretary Welles
said: “In the success which has attended your operations, you have
illustrated the efficiency and irresistible power of a naval force led
by a bold and vigorous mind, and the insufficiency of any batteries to
prevent the passage of a fleet thus led and commanded.

“You have, first on the Mississippi, and recently in the bay of
Mobile, demonstrated what had been previously doubted, the ability
of naval vessels, properly manned and commanded, to set at defiance
the best constructed and most heavily armed fortifications. In these
successive victories you have encountered great risks, but the results
have vindicated the wisdom of your policy and the daring valor of your
officers and seamen.”

The further operations about the City of Mobile need not be gone into.

Farragut’s health had somewhat failed, with the strain of the previous
two years’ work and a long stay in the Gulf climate, and he was
ordered home in November, 1864. Upon his arrival in New York great
preparations were made for his reception, and formal congratulations
were presented to him from the City of New York; the Chamber of
Commerce, and other bodies.

On December 22d a bill creating the rank of Vice-Admiral was introduced
into Congress, and passed both houses. On the 23d the President signed
it, and named Farragut for the office, which nomination was immediately
confirmed by the Senate.

On July 25th, 1866, Congress passed a law creating the grade of
Admiral, which had never before existed in our Navy, and, as a matter
of course, the office was immediately conferred upon Farragut.

[Illustration: LE SOLFERINO (_à Eperon_), 1865.

(First-class French Ironclad, with Ram.)]

Thus was gratified his most legitimate ambition. When there was a talk
of making him a candidate for the Presidency he said, “I am greatly
obliged to my friends, but am thankful that I have no ambition for
anything but what I am, an Admiral.”

CUSHING AND THE ALBEMARLE. OCTOBER, 1864.

The Sounds and waters of North Carolina were early the scenes of
important enterprises by the combined Army and Navy of the United
States. The Hatteras forts, Roanoke Island, Newbern, Plymouth and other
places were early captured, some of them after regular actions. A
position was gained from which the important inland communication was
threatened, which was vital to the Confederacy, while the commerce of
the Sounds was entirely put a stop to.

It was important for them to regain what they had lost, and to this end
they put forth every effort.

Among other means they commenced and hastened to completion a
formidable iron-clad vessel. In June, 1863, Lieutenant-Commander C. W.
Flusser, an excellent and thoroughly reliable officer, had reported
that a battery was building at Edward’s Ferry, near Weldon, on the
Roanoke River, to be cased with pine sills, fourteen inches square, and
plated with railroad iron. The slanting roof was to be made of five
inches of pine, five inches of oak, and railroad iron over that.

Unfortunately, the light-draught monitors, which should have been on
hand to meet this vessel, turned out failures, and the light wooden
gun-boats and “double enders” employed in the Sounds had to encounter
her. She was accompanied by a ram, which the Union fleet had no vessel
fit to meet.

In April, 1864, the Albemarle being completed, the Confederates were
ready to carry out their plan of attack, which was first to recapture
Plymouth, by the assistance of the ram, and then send her into
Albemarle Sound, to capture or disperse our fleet. A force of ten
thousand men, which they had collected, made an advance, and gained
possession of the town.

Lieutenant-Commander Flusser was then at Plymouth, with four
vessels, the Miami, a “double-ender,” and three ferry-boats, armed
with nine-inch guns, and exceedingly frail in structure, called the
Southfield, Ceres and Whitehead. At half-past nine, on the evening of
April 18th, he wrote to Admiral Lee that there had been fighting there
all day, and he feared the enemy had had the best of it. “The ram will
be down to-night or to-morrow. * * * I shall have to abandon my plan of
fighting the ram lashed to the Southfield. * * * I think I have force
enough to whip the ram, but not sufficient to assist in holding the
town, as I should like.”

Six hours after writing this, Flusser lay dead upon the deck of his
ship.

Very early on the morning of the 19th of April the Whitehead, which had
been stationed up the river, reported that the ram was coming down.

The Whitehead was in a critical position when she discovered the ram,
for she was between her and a rebel battery. Some obstructions had been
placed to stop the Albemarle, but she passed them easily. A narrow
passage or “thoroughfare” led down to Plymouth beside the main channel,
and the Whitehead managed to run into this, unperceived by the ram,
and so got down ahead of the Confederate vessel, which did not attack
until half-past three in the morning. When the ironclad was seen coming
down, the Miami and Southfield were lashed together, and Flusser, from
the Miami, ordered them to meet her, at full speed.

The Albemarle came on silently, with closed ports, and struck the
Miami a glancing blow on her port bow, doing some damage, but causing
no leak. She then crushed the side of the Southfield, so that she at
once began to sink. As she passed between the two vessels, the forward
lashings parted, and the Miami swung round. The after lashings were
cut, and, after a number of the Southfield’s men had succeeded in
reaching the Miami that vessel steamed off down the river, leaving her
consort to sink. The officer left in command by Flusser’s death thus
speaks of this unfortunate affair:--

“As soon as the battery could be brought to bear upon the ram, both
steamers, the Southfield and Miami, commenced firing solid shot from
the 100-pound Parrott rifles and 11-inch Dahlgren guns, they making
no perceptible indentations in her armor. Commander Flusser fired
the first three shots from the Miami personally, the third being a
ten-second Dahlgren shell, 11-inch. It was directly after that fire
that he was killed by pieces of shell; several of the gun’s crew were
wounded at the same time. Our bow hawser being stranded, the Miami
then swung round to starboard, giving the ram a chance to pierce
us. Necessity then required the engine to be reversed in motion, to
straighten the vessel in the river, to prevent going on the bank of
the river, and to bring the rifle-gun to bear upon the ram. During
the time of straightening the steamer the ram had also straightened,
and was making for us. From the fatal effects of her prow upon the
Southfield, and of our sustaining injury, I deemed it useless to
sacrifice the Miami in the same way.”

[Illustration: LIEUT. CUSHING’S TORPEDO BOAT SINKING THE ALBEMARLE ON
ROANOKE RIVER, N. C.]

The gun-boats being driven off, the Confederates captured Plymouth on
April 20th. As it was expected that the Albemarle would at once enter
the Sound, and attack the squadron there, all possible preparations
were made to meet her.

Four of the squadron were “double enders,” the Miami, Mattabesett,
Sassacus and Wyalusing. The smaller vessels were the Ceres, Commodore
Hull, Seymour and Whitehead. They were all armed with 9-inch guns and
100-pound rifles.

The Senior Officer in the Sounds, Captain M. Smith, ordered the large
vessels to pass as close as possible to the ram, delivering their fire,
and rounding to immediately for a second discharge. He also suggested
the vulnerable points of the ram, and recommended that an endeavor be
made to foul her propeller, if possible.

He also directed, among other things, that a blow of the ram should be
received as near the stern as possible, and the vessel rammed was to
go ahead fast, to prevent her from withdrawing it, while the others
attacked the propeller. If armed launches accompanied the ram they were
to be met by the smaller vessels, with shrapnel, when approaching,
and hand grenades when near. He leaves the question of ramming to
each commander, on account of the peculiar construction of the
“double-enders.”

Small steamers were placed on picket, at the mouth of the Roanoke, and
on the 5th of May the ram made its appearance, and chased the picket
boats in. Signals were made, and the vessels got under way, and stood
up to engage the ironclad. The Albemarle was accompanied by a small
steamer which she had captured not long before. At about half-past
four in the afternoon the Albemarle opened the battle by a shot which
destroyed a boat and wounded several men on board the Mattabesett.
The second shot damaged the same vessel’s rigging. By this time the
Mattabesett was very near the little steamer, which immediately
surrendered. The Mattabesett then gave the ram a broadside, at about
one hundred and fifty yards, then rounded to under her stern, and came
up on the other side. Her shot either broke, or glanced off the ram’s
armor, without any effect. She had the muzzle knocked off of one of her
two guns, by a shot from the ram, but continued to use it during the
remainder of the action.

The Sassacus came gallantly on, in like manner, delivering her fire at
the Albemarle. The latter then attempted to ram the Sassacus, but the
latter crossed her bows, by superior speed.

At this time the ram had partially turned, and exposed her side to the
Sassacus, when the wooden double-ender rushed at her, under full steam,
in hope of either crushing in her side, or of bearing her down until
she should sink. The Sassacus struck the ironclad fairly, and received,
at the same moment, a 100-pounder rifle shot, which went through and
through her. She struck the Albemarle a heavy blow, careening her, and
bearing her down till the water washed across her deck.

The Sassacus kept her engines going, in the attempt to push the ram
down, while many efforts were made to throw hand grenades down her deck
hatch, and powder down her smoke stack, but without success, as there
was a cap upon the stack.

Soon the ram swung round, and as soon as her guns would bear, another
100-pound rifle shot went through the side of the Sassacus, through
her coal bunker, and crashed into her starboard boiler. Instantly the
whole ship was filled with steam, which scalded and suffocated her
crew. All her firemen were scalded, and one was killed; and twenty-one
men were instantly placed _hors de combat_. She was forced to withdraw
from action.

The other gun-boats continued the fight, and the Miami endeavored to
explode against the ram a torpedo which she carried. But the Albemarle
was skillfully handled, and succeeded, each time, in avoiding the blow.
Two of the other gun-boats endeavored to foul the propeller of the ram
by laying out seines in her track. Although the nets seemed all about
her, she escaped them. An observer from the shore has likened this
curious scene to a number of wasps attacking a large horny beetle.

In fine, the Albemarle proved invulnerable to the guns of the
gun-boats, even when discharged almost in contact with her sides.

The action lasted for three hours, or until night came on. Everything
that brave men could do to destroy the enemy it was their duty to
encounter was done by the gun-boats, but the ironclad went back to
Plymouth without serious damage, and without the loss of a man, after
being the target, at short range, for more than two hundred shot
from 11-inch and 9-inch guns, and more than one hundred shot from
100-pounder rifles.

The gun-boats, other than the Sassacus, were very much damaged, and
it was plain that they were unfit to meet the Albemarle, however ably
handled or gallantly fought.

The ram came out again on the 24th of May, but did not enter the Sound,
apparently fearing torpedoes. The next day a party left the Wyalusing
in a boat, with two torpedoes, to endeavor to destroy the Albemarle, as
she lay at Plymouth.

They carried the torpedoes across the swamps on a stretcher, and then
two of the party swam across the river with a line, and hauled the
torpedoes over to the Plymouth shore. These were then connected by a
bridle, so that they should float down and strike on each side of the
ram’s bows. Unfortunately, they were discovered, and the plan failed.

Lines of torpedoes were then placed at the mouth of the Roanoke, to
destroy the ram if she should come down again, and as this proceeding
could not be kept secret, the ironclad did not again venture down. She
lay quietly at Plymouth until the latter part of October, a constant
threat to our fleet in the Sounds, and preventing any attempt to
recapture the town. She was very securely moored to a wharf, and a
guard of soldiers was placed on board, in addition to her crew.

Every night fires were made on shore, to prevent the approach of an
enemy unseen. More than this, she was surrounded by large logs, moored
some thirty feet from her hull, all round, to keep off any boat which
might approach with a torpedo. From the mouth of the Roanoke to where
the Albemarle lay is about eight miles, and the stream there about two
hundred yards wide.

The banks were well picketed by the enemy.

About a mile below Plymouth was the sunken wreck of the Southfield, and
about her were some schooners, which also formed a picket-station in
mid-stream.

It seemed impossible for a boat to get up the river and not be
discovered, and yet Lieutenant William B. Cushing, of the United States
Navy, not only undertook to do so, but succeeded in destroying this
formidable craft, “the terror of the Sounds.”

Admiral Ammen, of the Navy, has given a capital sketch of Cushing, in
the _United Service Magazine_, from which we shall borrow freely.

“William B. Cushing was born in Wisconsin, in November, 1842, and
entered the Naval Academy in 1857, but resigned in March, 1861,
entering the naval service afloat, as an Acting Master’s Mate. His
disposition and temperament would not permit him to remain at a naval
school in time of war, as he would not have been able to give a single
thought to theoretical study.

“In October, 1861, he was restored to his rank as Midshipman, and on
the 16th of July following he was, with many other young officers, made
a Lieutenant, owing to the exigencies of the service growing out of the
civil war.

“Henceforth, for nearly three years, his career was singularly
conspicuous in deeds of daring, in a service where a lack of gallantry
would have brought disgrace. It is plain, therefore, that it was the
sagacity of his plans and his boldness in carrying them out that
distinguished him.

“At the close of the war he was barely twenty-two and a half years
of age, rather slightly built, about five feet in height, and boyish
looking. He had large, gray eyes, a prominent, aquiline nose, yellowish
hair, worn quite long, and withal, a rather grave expression of
countenance. When speaking his face would light up with a bright and
playful smile. A comrade likened his springy, elastic step, high
cheek bones and general physiognomy to that of an Indian. The first
impression of a stranger who heard him speak, either of what he had
done or hoped to do, would be that he was a boaster--but with those who
knew him best there was no such idea; his form of speech was a mere
expression, frankly uttered, of what he had done, or what he intended
to do.”

The foregoing is Admiral Ammen’s estimate of the man. To some of it the
writer must dissent. He accompanied Cushing on a short journey soon
after the Albemarle affair, while the country was still ringing with
his brilliant exploit, and when steamboats, railroads and hotels were
refusing to accept any money from either him or his chance companions;
and all sorts and conditions of men were being introduced to him, to
have the honor of shaking his hand; and yet a more simple, boy-like,
unassuming manner no one placed in such a position ever had.

He early received command of a small steamer, engaged in blockading,
and would make expeditions in the inland waters, in his boat, sometimes
lying concealed all day, but always having some definite object
commensurate with the risks involved. He more than once obtained
important information in this way.

Not only did he have frequent engagements, in his little vessel,
with field batteries of the enemy, but was successful in destroying
schooners with supplies, salt-works, and other things which tended to
cripple his enemy.

In the winter of 1864, when blockading the Cape Fear River, Cushing
determined to pay a visit to Smithville, in a boat, with only six men.
In entering the river he had to pass Fort Caswell, and at Smithville,
two miles above, he knew there was a battery of five guns, and a
considerable garrison.

About eleven o’clock at night he landed, one hundred yards above the
battery, came into the village, and into a large house with a piazza,
which was the headquarters of General Hebert.

A Major and Captain, of the General’s staff, were about going to bed,
in a room on the piazza, when, hearing footsteps, and supposing his
servant was there, the Major threw up a window, and a navy revolver was
at once thrust in his face, with a demand for surrender. He pushed
the pistol aside, and escaped through the back door, calling to his
companion to follow, as the enemy were upon them. The latter failed
to understand, and was taken prisoner by Cushing, and carried off. He
pushed off down the river, knowing that an immediate alarm would be
given. It was a beautiful moonlight night, but Cushing escaped unharmed.

This audacious effort to capture General Hebert was characteristic of
Cushing, and was only frustrated by the fact that the General happened
to spend the night in Wilmington, instead of his own quarters.

At the capture of Newbern, Cushing distinguished himself, in command of
a battery of navy howitzers.

In landing in the marsh Cushing had lost his shoes, and, while pressing
on, he encountered the servant of a Captain Johnson, of the army, who
had a pair of spare boots slung over his shoulder. Cushing asked who
was the owner of the boots, and said, “Tell the Captain that Lieutenant
Cushing, of the Navy, was barefooted, and has borrowed them for the
day,” and then, in spite of the remonstrances of the servant, put on
the boots in haste, and pursued his way to the fight.

In the destruction of the Albemarle we see Cushing in another, and a
truly heroic light. The newspaper correspondents had managed to make
his task as difficult as possible, for they had, for several weeks,
apprised the public, and of course the enemy, that Cushing was on his
way from the North, with a torpedo-boat, to blow up the Albemarle. No
method could have been taken to render the enemy more watchful, and the
destruction of the ironclad impossible.

We have already spoken of the “cordon” of logs, enclosing her as in a
pen; the extra guards and fires, the howitzers ready loaded, and the
pickets down the river. The enemy was very vigilant, and Cushing’s
approach was discovered. Yet we find him perfectly cool amidst a heavy
fire from small arms and howitzers, standing forward in his launch,
pushing his way at full speed over the logs, and only intent upon
lowering his torpedo and striking the enemy’s vessel at the proper
time. He did this most effectually, but, at the very moment of doing
so, a shell from one of the heavy guns of the Albemarle struck the
torpedo-boat, and she went down, swamped by the column of water and
spray which rose high in the air when the torpedo exploded.

Nothing could be more graphic or characteristic than Cushing’s report
of the affair, as follows:--

“ALBEMARLE SOUND, N. C.,
October 30th, 1864.

“SIR:--I have the honor to report that the Rebel ironclad “Albemarle”
is at the bottom of the Roanoke river. On the night of the 27th,
having prepared my steam-launch, I proceeded up towards Plymouth
with thirteen officers and men, partly volunteers from the squadron.
The distance from the mouth of the river to the ram was about eight
miles, the stream averaging in width some two hundred yards, and
lined with the enemy’s pickets.

“A mile below the town was the wreck of the Southfield, surrounded by
some schooners, and it was understood that a gun was mounted there
to command the bend. I therefore took one of the Shamrock’s cutters
in tow, with orders to cast off and board at that point, if we were
hailed.

“Our boat succeeded in passing the pickets, and even the Southfield,
within twenty yards, without discovery, and we were not hailed
until by the lookouts on the ram. The cutter was then cast off,
and ordered below, while we made for our enemy under a full head of
steam. The Rebels sprung their rattle, rang the bell, and commenced
firing, at the same time repeating their hail, and seeming much
confused.

“The light of a fire ashore showed me the ironclad made fast to the
wharf, with a pen of logs around her, about thirty feet from her side.

“Passing her closely, we made a complete circle, so as to strike her
fairly, and went into her, bows on. By this time the enemy’s fire
was very severe, but a dose of canister, at short range, served to
moderate their zeal and disturb their aim.

“Paymaster Swan, of the Otsego, was wounded near me, but how many
more I know not. Three bullets struck my clothing, and the air seemed
full of them. In a moment we had struck the logs just abreast of the
quarter port, breasting them in some feet, and our bows resting on
them. The torpedo-boom was then lowered, and by a vigorous pull I
succeeded in diving the torpedo under the overhang, and exploding it,
at the same time that the Albemarle’s gun was fired. A shot seemed to
go crashing through my boat, and a dense mass of water rushed in from
the torpedo, filling the launch, and completely disabling her.

“The enemy then continued his fire, at fifteen feet range, and
demanded our surrender, which I twice refused, ordering the men to
save themselves, and, removing my own coat and shoes, springing into
the river, I swam with others into the middle of the stream, the
Rebels failing to hit us. The most of our party were captured, some
were drowned, and only one escaped besides myself, and he in another
direction. Acting Master’s Mate Woodman, of the ‘Commodore Hull,’ I
met in the water half a mile below the town, and assisted him as best
I could, but failed to get him ashore.

“Completely exhausted, I managed to reach the shore, but was too weak
to crawl out of the water until just at daylight, when I managed to
creep into the swamp, close to the fort. While hiding, a few feet
from the path, two of the Albemarle’s officers passed, and I judged,
from their conversation, that the ship was destroyed.

“Some hours’ travelling in the swamp served to bring me out well
below the town, when I sent a negro in to gain information, and found
that the ram was truly sunk. Proceeding to another swamp I came to a
creek, and captured a skiff belonging to a picket of the enemy, and
with this, by eleven o’clock the next night, had made my way out to
the ‘Valley City.’

“Acting Master’s Mate William L. Howarth, of the ‘Monticello,’
showed, as usual, conspicuous bravery. He is the same officer who
has been with me twice in Wilmington harbor. I trust he may be
promoted when exchanged, as well as Acting Third Assistant Engineer
Stotesbury, who, being for the first time under fire, handled his
engine promptly and with coolness.

“All the officers and men behaved in the most gallant manner. I will
furnish their names to the Department as soon as they can be procured.

“The cutter of the Shamrock boarded the Southfield, but found no gun.
Four prisoners were taken there. The ram is now completely submerged,
and the enemy have sunk three schooners in the river, to obstruct the
passage of our ships. I desire to call the attention of the Admiral
and Department to the spirit manifested by the sailors on the ships
in these Sounds. But few men were wanted, but all hands were eager
to go into action, many offering their chosen shipmates a month’s
pay to resign in their favor. I am, sir, very respectfully, your
obedient servant,

W. B. CUSHING,
_Lieutenant, U. S. N._”

“Rear-Admiral D. D. PORTER,

“_Commanding N. A. Squadron_.

“The name of the man who escaped is William Hoftman, seaman on the
‘Chicopee.’ He did his duty well and deserves a medal of honor.

“Respectfully,

W. B. CUSHING, U. S. N.”

Cushing, for this daring piece of service, was himself advanced to the
rank of Lieutenant-Commander.

Such men are never mere imitators, and his unvarying success in
whatever he undertook was due to his clever planning and admirable
execution. Attempts by those of inferior qualities in such respects
would end in their capture or death.

Admiral Ammen goes on to say, in summing up the character of Cushing,
“that, notwithstanding his extraordinary qualities, he perhaps lacked
that attention to the practical and laborious details of his profession
without which no officer can attain eminence or usefulness, even, in
the higher grades. His ability to comprehend was undoubtedly of a high
order, but possibly a deficient training when a mere youth left him
apparently averse to acquiring the practical details of his profession.

“The fact is, that Cushing had such pre-eminent qualities, that those
who appreciated him felt a certain chagrin or disappointment that he
did not seem to possess those ordinary qualities through which he could
acquire the knowledge necessary to extraordinary success as the leader
of large forces.

“Cushing’s life in war was active and heroic in the extreme; in peace
he seemed to suffer, as it were, from inanity, or more properly
speaking, from the apparent lack or absence of a strong purpose.

“After the close of the war he was for some two years Executive Officer
of the ‘Lancaster,’ a position which required close attention and
study, to fulfill its duties in the best manner.

“Afterwards he served three years in command of the ‘Maumee,’ on the
Asiatic station. He was promoted, in the regular order of vacancies, to
Commander, January 31, 1872, and soon after was ordered to the command
of the ‘Wyoming,’ on the home station, and was relieved at the end of a
year, the vessel being put out of commission.

“In the spring of 1874 he was ordered to the Washington Navy Yard, and
the following August was detached, at his request. He then seemed in
impaired health, and expressed a desire to go South; after the lapse
of a few days he showed signs of insanity, and was removed to the
Government Hospital, where he died, December 17, 1874, at the age of
thirty-two years and thirteen days.

“His becoming insane was a great regret and surprise to his many
friends and admirers, in and out of the naval service; it was, however,
a consolation for them to know that it was not the result of bad habits
or of causes within his control. His misfortune, and that of the naval
service to which he belonged, was seemingly a lack of rigid, early
training, necessary to healthful thought in ordinary times, and to a
continued development of those points in naval education which are so
useful in peace, and so essential to success in the higher grades,
whatever nature may have done to fit the man for action.

“There are few Cushings in the histories of navies; they can have no
successful imitators; they pass away, as it were, before they reach
their destined goal, regretted and admired.”

FORT FISHER. DECEMBER, 1864, JANUARY, 1865.

After the fall of the forts at Mobile, Wilmington alone remained a port
where blockade-runners could enter and escape again, with their return
cargoes. Having two entrances, one north of Cape Fear, at New Inlet,
shoal and tortuous, and commanded by the extensive fortifications on
Federal Point, called Fort Fisher, and the other the main channel of
the Cape Fear River, and these two entrances requiring about sixty
miles of blockade, it was almost impossible to prevent swift vessels
from running in with important supplies for the Confederate Army, and
from getting to sea again, with cotton.

Sherman was now preparing for his march to the sea, which, if
successful, would insure the fall of Charleston and Savannah, without
further effort from the Navy.

Grant was beleaguering Lee, at Petersburg and Richmond, and the latter
was dependent upon Wilmington for many indispensable articles brought
into that port, for his army, by the English blockade-runners. Many of
these had been captured or destroyed, but the temptation was great to
try again, and greedy and desperate men, with fast steamers, took their
lives in their hands, and by audacity and good seamanship, favored by a
dark night, often succeeded.

It was certain that the principal Confederate Army remaining could not
long be kept in the field if important articles not produced in the
Confederacy could not be continuously imported from England. Indeed,
after the capture of Fort Fisher, a telegram from Lee was found there,
which declared that he could not hold Richmond if Fort Fisher should be
captured.

While Grant, therefore, was ready to follow Lee, either north or south,
and Sherman was about making his bold manœuvre, and the captured
harbors were closely held, and the lesser ports and coasts closely
watched, it seemed more than ever necessary to capture Wilmington; and
to do this, Fort Fisher must be taken.

The writer participated in both attacks upon Fort Fisher, and has
contributed a paper to the _United Service Magazine_ upon the
operations there; but for the sake of conciseness, will follow the
official report, and the account of Boynton, adding some reminiscences.

In September, 1864, the Navy Department received assurances from the
Secretary of War, that the necessary land force for the reduction of
Fort Fisher and the other Wilmington forts would be supplied in due
season, and preparations for the naval part of the expedition were
begun at once. A very powerful naval force was assembled in Hampton
Roads, and the command offered to Admiral Farragut. But the Admiral’s
health had been much impaired by the anxieties, and exposures, and
constant strain upon his nervous system, in consequence of his service
of two years in a climate not very favorable to health. He, therefore,
declined the command, to the great regret of the public, as well as the
Navy Department.

The Secretary of the Navy then naturally turned to Admiral Porter, who
had shown, in the very trying service on the Western rivers, great
energy and skill. He accepted, with alacrity, and was at once put in
command of the largest fleet which ever sailed under the American flag.

Causes into which it is now not worth while to enter delayed the
expedition, as the co-operating land force was not at once forthcoming,
and a bombarding force of thirty-seven vessels, and a reserve squadron
of nineteen, lay in Hampton Roads, awaiting orders to proceed.

The season was almost over when fine weather might be expected, and the
time was near when those storms which had given the name to Cape Fear
might be expected in that locality. Before the war it was considered
foolhardy to dally in that vicinity at all, and yet our blockaders
staid there, night and day, winter and summer, shine or storm, for
nearly four years, and even our monitors laid out gales there, at
anchor, with the whole Atlantic ocean to the eastward of them.

The Secretary of the Navy became anxious at the delay in the movements
of the military part of the expedition, and addressed a letter to
President Lincoln, which was as follows:--

“NAVY DEPARTMENT,
October 28th, 1864.

“SIR:--You are aware that, owing to shoal water at the mouth of the
Cape Fear River, a purely naval attack cannot be undertaken against
Wilmington. Had there been water enough for our broadside ships, of
the Hartford class, the naval attacks of New Orleans, Mobile, and
Port Royal would have been repeated there. I have, as you are aware,
often pressed upon the War Department the importance of capturing
Wilmington, and urged upon the Military authorities the necessity
of undertaking a joint operation against the defences of Cape Fear
River; but until recently there never seems to have been a period
when the Department was in a condition to entertain the subject.

“Two months ago it was arranged that an attack should be made on
the 1st of October, but subsequently postponed to the 15th, and the
naval force has been ready since the 15th instant, in accordance with
that agreement. One hundred and fifty vessels of war now form the
North Atlantic Squadron. The command, first offered to Rear-Admiral
Farragut, but declined by him, has been given to Rear-Admiral Porter.

“Every other squadron has been depleted, and vessels detached
from other duty to strengthen this expedition. The vessels are
concentrated at Hampton Roads and Beaufort, where they remain, an
immense force lying idle, awaiting the movements of the army. The
detention of so many vessels from blockade and cruising duty is a
most serious injury to the public service; and if the expedition
cannot go forward for want of troops, I desire to be notified, so
that the ships may be relieved and dispersed for other service.

“The importance of closing Wilmington is so well understood by you
that I refrain from presenting any new arguments. I am aware of the
anxiety of yourself, and of the disposition of the War Department to
render all the aid in its power. The cause of the delay is not from
the want of a proper conception of the importance of the subject; but
the season for naval coast operations will soon be gone.

“General Bragg has been sent from Richmond to Wilmington, to prepare
for the attack; and the autumn weather, so favorable for such an
expedition, is fast passing away. The public expect this attack, and
the country will be distressed if it be not made. To procrastinate
much longer will be to peril its success.

[Illustration: MONITOR FLEET IN A GALE, OFF FORT FISHER, N. C.]

“Of the obstacles which delay or prevent military co-operation
at once I cannot judge; but the delay is becoming exceedingly
embarrassing to this Department, and the importance of having the
military authorities impressed with the necessity of speedy action
has prompted this communication to you.

“I have the honor to be, etc., etc.,
THE PRESIDENT.
“_Gideon Welles_.”

At length the War Department supplied the much needed land force.
General Butler was placed in command of it, and General Weitzel, an
engineer officer, was sent with him.

The long delay had enabled the enemy to gain information of the object
of all this preparation, and they placed additional troops within
supporting distance of the forts.

Fort Fisher is situated on a neck of land between the ocean and the
Cape Fear River, called Federal Point. The plan was to land the troops
some distance above the fort, and intrench across the Point to Cape
Fear River, so as to prevent reinforcements being sent from Wilmington,
and then to attack both by land and water.

The fort and its connected batteries mounted about seventy-five guns,
while the armament of all the works erected for the purpose of guarding
the approaches to Wilmington was about one hundred and sixty guns, many
of them of the largest calibre then used in forts. Among them were some
150-pounder Armstrongs. Admiral Porter, who had been at Sebastopol,
says, in an official report, “that Fort Fisher was much stronger than
the famous Malakoff.”

A novel idea was to be carried out in this attack, which was popularly
attributed to General Butler.

A vessel with a very large quantity of powder on board was arranged as
a huge torpedo, to be carried in as close as possible to the fort, and
then exploded. It was supposed that it would level the walls, explode
the magazine, and kill or stun the garrison.

The explosion produced no result of importance, as we shall see
hereafter.

The attack was decided upon for the 24th of December, although General
Butler had not arrived with his troops. The larger vessels of the
fleet and the ironclads had anchored twenty miles east of New Inlet,
literally at sea, and in a position where it would have been thought
foolhardy, in peace times, to have remained at that season. Here they
rode out some heavy weather, the monitors, at times, being completely
submerged by the huge seas, with only the tops of the smoke-stacks and
turrets visible.

The powder boat was a purchased gun-boat, called the Louisiana. She
had about two hundred tons of powder on board, and was commanded by
Commander A. C. Rhind. The vessel was painted lead color, and she had a
false smoke-stack erected abaft the real one, and in general appearance
and color resembled the ordinary blockade-runners. She was sent in
on the night of the 23d, or rather, at two o’clock on the morning of
the 24th. So little was the explosion considered an act of war by the
garrison that they supposed it a blockade-runner which had been chased
ashore and blown up, to prevent her from falling into the blockaders’
hands.

The attacking fleet carried nearly five hundred guns. Among these
were some of the largest guns then in use. The three monitors mounted
15-inch guns; the battery of the New Ironsides was of 11-inch guns;
there were many 11-inch guns, and 100- and 150-pounder Parrott rifles
on board the smaller vessels while the heavy frigates, Minnesota,
Wabash and Colorado, mounted each forty 9-inch guns. No such armament
had ever been brought to bear upon a fort; and probably no fort was
better able to resist it, for it was an immense bank of earth, with the
guns far apart, and huge traverses of earth built up between them. This
arrangement had a double advantage; for it was more difficult to reduce
the work than if the guns had been contained in a smaller space, while
their fire, thus distributed, was more effective against ships.

But, extensive and formidable as these great earthworks were, they were
overmatched by the guns afloat. No men could stand to guns, and no guns
could long continue serviceable, under such a storm of shot and shell
as was poured upon them.

On the 24th of December, early in the morning, the ships stood in,
the grim and ponderous Ironsides leading the way, followed by the
monitors. They took position about three-quarters of a mile from the
fort, opening fire as soon as in station. Then came the great frigates,
sloops and gun-boats, and all opened a most rapid and terrible fire.

In about an hour the fort was silenced, the garrison being driven
to cover. There were one or two explosions of magazines, and some
buildings were set on fire. Unfortunately, during this day no less than
six of the 100-pounder rifles burst, killing and wounding more men than
the guns of the enemy, and destroying confidence in these pieces, which
had hitherto done good work, and had been rather favorites. The ships
sustained very little damage.

On the next day, Christmas, the transports arrived with the troops,
and the latter were landed about five miles above the fort, under
cover of the gun-boats, while the ironclads and other vessels renewed
their fire upon the fort, but more deliberately than the day before.
General Weitzel reconnoitred the fort, and some soldiers actually
entered a part of it, but the General reported a successful assault
impracticable, and the troops were re-embarked. The Navy was naturally
indignant at this, but there was no help for it. The commentary upon
the opinion of the Engineer is that the fort _was_ taken by assault, a
fortnight afterwards.

On December 29th, the Secretary of the Navy, after consultation with
the President, sent a telegram to General Grant, at Petersburg, stating
his belief that the works could be taken by a suitable land force, to
co-operate with the Navy, and asking for the necessary troops. General
Grant sent about eight thousand men, under General Terry, and they
reached the neighborhood of Fort Fisher on January 13th.

In the meantime the fleet had ridden out some very bad weather and one
severe southeast gale, most of the large vessels lying in the bight
under Cape Lookout.

On January 12th the fleet, with the transports with troops in close
company, sailed again for New Inlet, all being in fair fighting
condition, and not damaged or dispersed by the gale, as the enemy had
hoped.

On the 13th the fleet was pounding away at the earthworks again, the
Ironsides being within one thousand yards of the northeast angle, and
the monitors much closer, as they drew less water. The wind was off
shore, and light, and the water smooth, or they could not have gone in
so close, there being but a few inches of water under the keels of the
ironclads. The fire was continued all that day, and at intervals during
the night.

The fire of the ironclads was directed, during the whole of the second
bombardment, at the land face of the main fort, where the assault by
the troops was to be made; and although they were nearly concealed by
the high traverses, which made an angle with the line of fire, it was
seen that many guns were struck and disabled, but the full extent of
the damage was not known till after the surrender. Then it was found
that every gun on that face of the fort had been disabled, principally
by the heavy shot and shell of the ironclads, which lay so near the
fort, and fired deliberately, and in perfect security.

It was the northeastern face which was to be assaulted by the troops
of General Terry. The sea front had been under the fire of the wooden
ships, which had to lie further off, and their fire was less effective,
and the face less injured. It was decided to assault this face with the
sailors and marines of the fleet. There were seventeen guns on the land
face, with immense hills for traverses, extending a third of a mile.
The other face, that to be assaulted by the sailors and marines, was
about one mile in length, terminating on the right flank in a mound
fifty-three feet high, mounted with two very heavy guns.

The arrangement of guns and traverses was such that, in an assault,
each would have to be taken separately.

On the morning of the 15th the ships went once more into position,
and fired rapidly. The soldiers and sailors made arrangements for the
assault; throwing up breastworks and rifle-pits towards the fort. From
11 A. M. to about half-past two, a tremendous fire was kept up, and the
heavy embankments crumbled under the shot and shell, while more guns
were disabled.

Still, the garrison, of about 2300 men, lay sheltered in their
bomb-proofs, ready to come out and repel the assault as soon as the
fire of the fleet should cease.

At half-past two the naval column was ready to advance, and the fire
from the fleet, at a given signal, suddenly ceased, the quiet seeming
quite unnatural after the continuous roar of artillery.

The naval column then moved along the beach, to assault the sea-face
of the main work. This was defended by palisades, as was the land face,
and was about forty feet high, and very steep--difficult for an armed
man to climb.

As the fire from the fleet ceased, the garrison came out of the
bomb-proofs, and, manning the parapet of the sea-face, began to shoot
down the assaulting sailors and marines. Loaded pieces were handed up
to those on the parapet, so the fire was very rapid. The beach was
soon strewn with dead and wounded, many staggering into the water and
falling there.

A few of the men, with many of the officers, reached the foot of the
mound, but they could get no further, and the bulk of the naval force
retreated down the beach again, entirely exposed, and losing heavily
from the deliberate musketry fire of the garrison. Those who had
reached a place of partial shelter, about the foot of the mound, were
obliged to remain there until approaching darkness and hard fighting
on the other face gave them an opportunity to get away. The loss in
this attempted assault was very heavy, twenty-one officers of the navy
having been killed or wounded, with a proportionate number of sailors
and marines.

The lives lost were not utterly thrown away, however, for the naval
attack made a diversion, distracting attention from the movements of
the troops.

Soon after the naval advance, and about the time that it was evident
that it had failed, the veteran troops from the James River assaulted,
with the determination, steadiness and dash which they had learned at
Petersburg, Cold Harbor, Spottsylvania, and a dozen other scenes of
hard fighting. The guns on the land face were all disabled, but there
was a howitzer fire from a sally-port, which did much damage, although
it did not stay the advance of those well-dressed lines an instant.
Reaching the foot of the lofty earthworks, the pioneers’ axes soon
cleared away the palisade, and the troops entered the two western
traverses. An entirely novel and fierce combat now took place, as each
mound was captured in turn.

For more than five hours this hand-to-hand struggle, a fight to the
death, went on in those traverses. There was nothing exactly like it
during the whole war. The Ironsides fired into the traverses ahead of
our troops until this was rendered, by the darkness, as dangerous to
friend as foe. Night came, and still the struggle went on. Shouts and
yells, shrieks and groans, musket-shot and clash of bayonet, with the
flash of small arms, marked the centre of the fight. Thus traverse
after traverse was won, until about ten o’clock at night the last one,
at the mound, was taken; then was heard a tremendous peal of cheers,
and the garrison poured, pell-mell, down to Federal Point. Here they
laid down their arms and surrendered. The fact was at once telegraphed
to the fleet, by signal lanterns, and round after round of hearty
cheers went up from every ship.

The “impregnable” Fort Fisher was taken. The Cape Fear River, the great
port of the blockade runners, was closed, and the Confederacy at last
completely isolated.

The next morning the light-draught vessels at once began to work in
over the New Inlet Bar, and for some days they were busy in capturing
forts, and in sweeping the Channel for torpedoes, and removing
obstructions.

About seven o’clock in the morning there was a tremendous explosion
within the Fort, which threw masses of earth and timber, and bodies of
men, high into the air; while a dense balloon-shaped cloud of powder
smoke and dust hung in the air for a long time.

It was the main magazine which had blown up. It was never known how it
happened. Many officers and seamen of the fleet, as well as soldiers,
lost their lives by this explosion.

Upon landing from the men-of-war, to see what this celebrated place
might be like, we met, in the first place, boats conveying the wounded
of the Navy to the Hospital ship, while upon the beach parties were
collecting for burial those who had been killed, and ranging them in
rows. This beach, as well as the whole of the land front of the fort,
was strewn with an immense number of fragments of shell, muskets,
musket-balls, bayonets, cartridge boxes and belts, articles of clothing
and dead bodies.

As we approached the land face, we began to find the bodies of
soldiers, instead of those of sailors, lying in the strangest
attitudes, just as they happened to be when the death bullet struck
them. The faces of some still showed the deadly purpose of battle,
while others were as peaceful as if they had died in their beds. Many
of these bodies had rolled down the steep earthwork after being shot,
and were lying against the palisades, covered with dust and powder
grime. Upon gaining a point of view from one of the traverses, one was
struck by the great extent of the fort. Before us lay the huge smoking
crater caused by the morning’s explosion, while fatigue parties of
soldiers were engaged in collecting the wounded and the dead, and in
piling up, in great stacks, the small arms of the captured garrison,
as well as those of our own dead and wounded. Peeping into the
bomb-proofs, which were full of dead, and filthy beyond description,
from long occupation during the bombardment, the next sight was the
guns. These were, many of them, not only dismounted, but partially
buried in the earth and sand, by the terrible explosions of the eleven-
and fifteen-inch shells. In many cases the gun’s crew were buried with
them, as an occasional hand or foot, peeping out, testified.

At the northeastern angle of the fort, in two huge embrasures, were two
very heavy guns, a 68-pounder, and an 8-inch Blakeley rifle, both of
English make. These two guns had fired principally at the ironclads,
and the latter had returned the compliment. Our fire often caused
the gunners to leave them, but they generally returned at the first
slacking of the fire. Just before the assault, one of them had the
carriage disabled, and it was now slewed round with its muzzle to the
westward.

At Battery No. 4 was found an Armstrong 150-pounder, marked with the
“broad arrow,” and mounted on an elegantly made and polished carriage,
with Sir Wm. Armstrong’s name on the trunnion of the gun, in full.
This piece was said to have been presented to the Confederacy by some
English admirers. But Armstrong guns, of less calibre, were found in
all the fortifications about Cape Fear.

These latter works were evacuated by the Confederates in great
consternation and hurry; in some instances they only spiked very fine
guns.

Fort Anderson, on the right bank, held our flotilla for some time. Just
abreast of it were two lines of torpedoes, both floating and sunken,
and this fort was not evacuated until after a heavy bombardment of
thirteen hours, and an expenditure of about five thousand shell.

It was very natural for the Confederates to suppose that Fort Fisher
would come off victoriously from the second attack, as she was much
better garrisoned and armed, and prepared in every way, than at the
time of the first attack, in December.

The success in the second attack was considered to be due to the change
in the commanding officers; the troops who carried the muskets were the
same.

All the forts in the river were of the most approved and careful
construction, and they contained, in all, about 170 heavy guns; while
lines of piles, and torpedoes to be fired by electricity, filled the
approaches to them.

It was remarked by an officer high in authority, that the engineers who
built such works, at the expense of so much time and labor, must have
had an abiding faith in the Confederacy. Fort Fisher was nearly four
years in course of construction.

After the capture of the forts the armed cruiser Chickamauga, which had
already created such havoc among our coasters, and which was ready for
sea again, and watching an opportunity to slip out, was run high up the
river, and, in a small creek, destroyed by her own crew.

Even in the most eventful and tragical occurrences there are some
humorous sides.

After the capture some fine blockade-running steamers came into
Smithville, quite ignorant of the change in affairs, as they always
arrived “in the dark of the moon.” Lights were shown from the regular
stations, to guide them in, and when they anchored they were quietly
taken possession of.

They were generally from Bermuda, and loaded with arms, blankets, shoes
and medicines for the Confederate army. On board one of them were
found some English army officers, who had come over from Bermuda on a
“lark,” and to try what blockade-running was like. When the vessel was
boarded these gentry were found at supper, with champagne opened, to
toast their successful run and their escape from serious damage from
some shot which had struck the vessel as she was passing the outside
blockaders. Their disgust may be imagined at being shipped to New York,
in confinement, and thence back to Bermuda, by the first opportunity.

DEEDS OF VALOR ON THE SEAS.

BY CAPTAIN H. D. SMITH, U. S. R. S., AND OTHERS.

_Captain Silas Talbot, the Soldier-Sailor._

At one period of our naval history none connected with it enjoyed a
higher reputation for patriotic and headlong valor than Captain Silas
Talbot, one of the earliest commanders of that renowned frigate Old
Ironsides.

He came naturally by his adventurous disposition and high standard
of courage. He was a lineal descendant of that Richard de Talbot who
witnessed the grant that Walter Gifford, Earl of Buckingham, made
to the monks of Cerasir, in the reign of William the Conqueror. The
earldom of Shrewsbury was bestowed, in the fifteenth century, upon John
Talbot for his skill and prowess in war. It is remarkable that one of
his ancestors was the antagonist of the Maid of Orleans, and another
had the custody of Mary Queen of Scots.

Silas Talbot was left an orphan at 12 years of age, at the town of
Dighton, and went to sea as a cabin boy. He also learned the trade of
a stonemason, acquired property, and married at the age of 21. The
first notes of the Revolution found Talbot with his companions drilling
under the guidance of an old Scotch drum-major. Finding an opportunity
to join the American camp near Boston, he accompanied the army to
New York, when his knowledge of nautical matters obtained for him the
command of a fireship. Three of the enemy’s ships were anchored near
the mouth of the Hudson, the largest being the Asia, of sixty-four guns.

Singling this vessel out as the object of his attack, Talbot, at 2
o’clock in the morning, dropped down with the tide, and threw his
grappling irons on board as the Asia opened fire. In an instant the
flames of the fire-ship were leaping above the lower yards of the huge
vessel, and Talbot, who had lingered on board until the last moment,
suffered terribly from the injuries received. His skin was blistered
from head to foot, his dress almost entirely destroyed, and his
eyesight for the time destroyed. His companions succeeded in carrying
him clear in a fast-pulling boat, finding shelter in a poor cabin,
where medical aid was at last procured for the sufferer. Meanwhile the
Asia, by strenuous efforts, had cleared herself from the blazing craft,
and, badly injured, had dropped down the river.

For this service, Congress, on October 10, 1777, passed a resolution
of thanks, promoting him to the rank of Major, and recommending him to
Gen. Washington for “employment agreeable to his rank,” and he shortly
after found an opportunity to gain further distinction and a severe
wound in the hip, in an attack on the enemy. Under Gen. Sullivan he
gathered eighty-six flatboats for transportation of the army on Long
Island, which was instrumental in preventing disaster when a retreat
was ordered.

The English, while in possession of Newport, moored a stout vessel off
the mouth of the Seconset River, providing her with twelve 8-pounders
and ten swivels. Strong boarding nettings were attached, while a crew
of forty-five men under Lieut. Dunlap, of the Royal Navy, commanded
the craft, which had been named the Pigot.

Upon this vessel Maj. Talbot had his eye for some time, but could
obtain no suitable means of getting a party afloat. He finally gained
possession of a sloop, equipped her with two 3-pounders, manned by
sixty men. On a dark and foggy night Talbot embarked with his men,
allowing the old sloop to drift under bare poles, until the loom of the
great boat was seen through the fog. Down swept the coasting sloop; the
sentinels hailed, but before one of the Pigot’s guns could be used the
jibboom of the opposing craft had torn its way through the boarding
nettings, affording an opportunity for the attacking party to board,
sword in hand. The vessel was quickly carried, the commander fighting
desperately, en dishabille, and when compelled to surrender wept over
his miserable disgrace. Not a man had been lost in this affair, and the
prize was carried safely into Stonington.

For this exploit Talbot received a handsome letter from Henry Laurens,
President of Congress, and was promoted to a Lieutenant-Colonelcy in
the army. The Assembly of his native State presented him with a sword,
while the British termed him, “One of the greatest arch-rebels in
nature.”

In 1779 he was commissioned a Captain in the navy, but with no national
vessel for him to command. He was instructed to arm a naval force
sufficient to protect the coast from Long Island to Nantucket. Congress
was too poor to assist him, and only by great efforts was he able to
fit out the prize Pigot and a sloop called the Argo. Humble as this
craft was, Talbot assumed command without a moment’s hesitation and
proved what a man of valor and determination could achieve with meagre
means. The sloop was an old-fashioned craft from Albany, square, wide
stern, bluff bow, and steered with a tiller. Her battery consisted of
ten and afterward twelve guns, two of which were mounted in the cabin.
With a crew of sixty, few of whom were seamen or had seen service, the
gallant Captain sailed from Providence on a cruise in May, 1779.

Exercising and drilling his men, he soon had them in fair shape,
enabling him to capture one vessel of twelve guns and two
letter-of-marque brigs from the West Indies. The prizes, with their
cargoes, were greatly needed by the authorities, while the successes
attending the efforts of the men greatly increased their confidence.

There was a Tory privateer of fourteen guns called the King George,
commanded by a Capt. Hazard, manned by eighty men, whose depredations
along the coast had made the craft a terror to the inhabitants. For
a meeting with this craft Capt. Talbot ardently longed, but was
baffled for quite a while. But fortune one clear day smiled upon the
Continental craft, the lookout espying the King George about 100 miles
off shore from Long Island. The Argo ran the enemy aboard, clearing her
deck with one raking broadside, driving her crew below hatches, and
capturing the privateer without the loss of a man.

Shortly after the sloop met a large armed West Indiaman, who fought
desperately for over four hours. Talbot had the skirts of his coat shot
away, losing a number of men by the well-directed fire of the enemy,
and only succeeded in making his antagonist strike when his main-mast
went by the board.

The career of the sloop was brought to an abrupt termination by the
owners’ demanding her return, but not before Capt. Talbot had secured
six good prizes and 300 prisoners.

Capt. Talbot was now informed by Congress that “the government had
every desire to give him a respectable command, but absolutely lacked
the means to do it.” Succeeding to the command of a private armed
ship, Talbot made but one prize, when he found himself one morning
in the midst of a large fleet of English men-of-war. Resistance was
impossible, and as a prisoner the Captain was transferred to the
notorious Jersey prison ship, from which he was in time removed to the
jail in New York, ruled by the cruel and infamous Cunningham.

In November, 1780, in company with seventy other prisoners, they were
marched to the ship Yarmouth, driven into the hold, destitute of
clothing and bedding, making the passage to England amid such suffering
and misery that beggars description. Talbot seemed to bear a charmed
life, passing unscathed through the horrors and death about him, and
was finally placed in the Dartmoor prison, out of which he made a
daring attempt to escape, and was confined in a dungeon forty days as
punishment. On three occasions he incurred the same penalty for similar
attempts, meeting his disappointments and hardships with characteristic
fortitude and courage.

Talbot gained his liberty through exchange for a British officer in
France, finding himself destitute and half-naked in a foreign land. He
landed at Cherbourg in December, 1781, after having been a prisoner
for fifteen months. At Paris Capt. Talbot was assisted by Franklin and
sailed for home in a brig, but fifteen days only after leaving port
she was captured by the Jupiter, an English privateer. But Talbot was
treated with kindness and courtesy by the captain, who transferred him
to a brig they encountered on her way from Lisbon to New York.

He now retired to a farm, where he remained with his family until
1794. He had served his country faithfully, both on land and water,
bearing on his person more or less of British lead, which he carried
to his grave. He had been specially mentioned by Congress on several
occasions, and occupied a high place in the estimation of Washington
and the principal officers of the Continental army. But with the dawn
of peace he was allowed to remain in his place of retirement without
further acknowledgment from the government he had served so well.

In 1794, when Congress enacted a law to enlarge the naval force in
order to check the depredations of the Algerians, among the six
experienced officers selected to command the frigates was Capt. Talbot.

After hostilities with France had commenced, one of the squadrons in
the West Indies was placed under his command, and he flew a broad
pennant on board Old Ironsides in 1799, on the St. Domingo station.
Isaac Hull, as First Lieutenant, was Captain of the frigate, and other
officers served under Talbot’s command who afterward became famous on
the rolls of fame.

It was while Old Ironsides had Talbot for a commander that she captured
her first prize. This vessel had been the British packet Sandwich, and
only waited to complete a cargo of coffee to make a run for France.
Capt. Talbot resolved to cut her out, and a force of seamen and marines
were placed on board an American sloop and the command given to the
gallant Hull. The Sandwich was lying with her broadside bearing on the
channel, with a battery to protect her. But so well was the movements
of the sloop conducted that the Sandwich was carried without the loss
of a man. At the same time Capt. Cormick landed with the marines and
spiked the guns of the battery.

[Illustration: THE “MIANTONOMOH” (DOUBLE-TURRETED MONITOR).]

[Illustration: GUN-BOATS ON WESTERN RIVER.

(Destruction of the Confederate Ram Arkansas.)]

The Sandwich was stripped to a girtline, with all the gear stowed
below; but before sunset she had royal yards across, her guns sealed,
and the prize crew mustered at the guns. Soon after she was under
way, beat out of the harbor and joined the frigate. Hull gained great
credit for the skill with which he had carried out the object of the
expedition, and at the time the affair made quite a sensation among the
various cruisers on the West India station.

Talbot was jealous of his rank and the dignity attached to his station
in the service. His courage, ability, and devotion to his country were
all beyond question. A question arose relative to the seniority of rank
between himself and Commodore Truxton, in which the Secretary of the
Navy gave the preference to Truxton.

This led the old veteran to tender his resignation and enjoy the fairly
earned repose of honorable age. President John Adams wrote to Talbot
requesting him to remain in the service, but the old sailor replied,
“Neither my honor nor reputation would permit me to be commanded by
Capt. Truxton, because he was, in fact, a junior officer.”

Commodore Talbot, in withdrawing from the service, took with him
his two sons, who were following in their father’s footsteps, and,
purchasing land for them in Kentucky, alternated between New York and
the home established by his sons.

He was thirteen times wounded and carried five bullets in his body.
In his intercourse with others, his hospitality and social duties, he
carried himself with rare dignity and grace, and was one of the finest
specimens of a self-made American officer the country produced. He died
in the city of New York on June 30, 1813, and was buried under Trinity
Church.

His name and deeds of valor are enrolled among the proudest of patriot
heroes of the country.

THE WHALEBOATMEN OF THE REVOLUTION AND THEIR HEROIC ACHIEVEMENTS.

The Revolutionary War gave birth to a valorous and dashing class of men
who operated along Long Island Sound, the shores of Long Island, and
the Jersey coast, from New York Bay to Tom’s River, and other inlets
and harbors. There were many of them, and they were an astonishing
set of men. Some had small sloops mounting two small cannon, but the
most effective work was accomplished in whaleboats. It is singular
that naval history and works treating on naval subjects have failed to
record or give the proper place in history to the brave and dashing
deeds achieved by the whaleboat navy of the Revolution. They made
themselves feared and hated by their foes, and the British vessels that
these men captured seem beyond belief, were not the records of their
work very clear and extensive. They took vessels with valuable cargoes,
burning or blowing up whatever prizes they could not easily bring to
port.

George Raymond, the acting sailing-master of the Bon-Homme Richard,
commanded by the celebrated Paul Jones, resided at Brooklyn, Long
Island, and was instrumental in fitting out a number of whaleboat
expeditions. He had made two voyages to India previous to entering the
service under Jones, a very rare occurrence for an American in those
early days.

The whaleboat fleet belonging to Connecticut was specially well
organized, manned, and effective. From their numerous haunts and
hiding-places they would sally forth, closing with their antagonists
so suddenly and furiously as to overcome all opposition, frequently
carrying armed ships, making up in noise and audacity what they lacked
in arms and numbers. Long Island Sound became very unsafe to British
parties and Tories and they seldom ventured any great distance upon its
waters, except they had protection from armed vessels. At one time, so
bold and daring had the whaleboatmen become, that a frigate, a sloop
of war, a corvette, and a ten-gun brig were ordered to patrol the
sound and exterminate the privateersmen, placing them beyond the pale
of quarter for the time being. But these measures, beyond involving
additional expense to the crown, availed nothing. The whaleboatmen
carried their lives in their hands, but each and all were picked men,
and with a knowledge that they fought with a halter around their necks,
none but men of tried valor and courage joined the ranks, while the
leaders excelled in fertile resources, daring conceptions in the mode
of attack, combining with all a perfect knowledge of the scene of
operations.

Two of the most prominent, dashing, and successful leaders in this
mosquito fleet were Capts. Mariner and Hyler. Their adventures and
exploits, both in and out of their trim, lithe whaleboats, read more
like romance than sober facts, and their gallant deeds are still
treasured up and handed down by many a family dwelling along the shores
of Long Island Sound.

It was midsummer when the following exploit was achieved, and in the
full light of the moon sailing through a cloudless sky:

Capt. Mariner had for a long time contemplated a raid upon Flatbush,
the resort or headquarters of a number of violent Tories, particularly
obnoxious to the American officers. Gen. Washington was particularly
anxious to obtain possession of the person of Cols. Axtell and
Mathews, who were both active and influential loyalists, partisans of
the most pronounced stripe. By some means Mariner became acquainted
with the wish of Washington, and, although no communication passed
between the distinguished commander-in-chief and the humble seaman, the
whaleboat leader resolved to reconnoitre the locality.

Disguised in the uniform of an independent loyalist rifle company,
Mariner proceeded to the tavern of Dr. Van Buren, a resort for all
the prominent surrounding gentry. Entering the tap-room, which was
crowded, discussions relative to the war and prominent individuals were
running high and waxing exceedingly hot, as well as decidedly personal,
as the disguised seamen mixed with the company. With ready wit and
sarcastic tongue, the “rifleman” joined in the argument, while a Maj.
Sherbook, of the British army, berated Capt. Mariner as no better than
a murderer, an outlaw, and a thief. Mariner’s eyes sparkled, his hands
twitching nervously as he listened to the tirade of abuse poured forth
in relation to himself.

“Confound this prowling, sneaking midnight vagabond, with his
ragamuffin crew,” angrily continued the Major, as he snapped a speck of
froth that had dropped from his tankard upon his laced and scarlet coat
sleeve; “he has developed into an intolerable nuisance in these parts,
and should be checked at once. I would thrash him and his followers,
single handed, with my riding whip, if ever opportunity offered. But
these water-rats come and go in such a cowardly fashion that soldiers
can scarcely hope to more than catch a glimpse of their flaunting rags.”

“Don’t be too sure, my dear Major, in your estimate of the
water-sneaks, as you are pleased to term them. You may have a nearer
glimpse of their rags and steel also than you could wish, with an
opportunity to make good your threat to chastise the leader and
his crew, sooner than you now dream of,” and before the surprised
assemblage had recovered from their consternation and the “influence,”
he had disappeared through the doorway into the darkness of the night.

Repairing at once to New Brunswick, Mariner prepared his fast
light-pulling whaleboat for the trip. The crew were summoned, armed
to the teeth, and when all was in readiness the long, shapely boat
glided swiftly and silently to New Utrecht, where the party formed in
single file on the beach at Bath, a few minutes after ten o’clock at
night. Two men were detailed to watch the boat, while the remainder
of the party proceeded rapidly to Flatbush Church. In the shadows of
overhanging trees the men were divided into four squads, the houses
they were to attack pointed out to them, each party being provided with
a battering ram capable of breaking in the heaviest door at a blow.
Silently and steadily the parties proceeded to their several scenes of
action, Mariner having reserved the residence of the British Major as
his special mission.

The signal for united and concerted action was the ringing report of
a pistol. The battering ram was then to be used, prisoners secured
and conveyed to the whaleboat. The attack was simultaneous in various
portions of the town. Mariner, sword in hand, searched in vain for the
doughty Major, but finally, when he was discovered, the shadows of a
large chimney had been used as a refuge from the dreaded onslaught of
the whaleboatmen. He was allowed to make up a bundle of necessaries and
hurried to the boat. The parties were there--having met with more or
less success--but the principal game, the officials Washington so much
desired to secure, were not among the number. Business had unexpectedly
summoned them to New York the day before or their capture would have
been effected. After the war Capt. Mariner resided many years at
Harlem and on Ward’s Island. He was classed as a strange and eccentric
man, full of wit and an inexhaustible fund of anecdotes, but was not
especially popular among his associates and neighbors.

One of the favorite cruising haunts of Capt. Hyler was between Egg
Harbor and Staten Island. He was a man of wonderful nerve, with
great power of endurance, fertile in resources, and prompt to act in
situations requiring instant action.

Mention has been made of the British fleet sent to patrol the waters
of the sound. The corvette, mounting twenty guns, anchored one foggy
evening almost abreast of Hyler’s headquarters, a short distance from
Egg Harbor. The tap of the drum and words of command from the officer
of the deck could be distinctly heard on shore. Incredible as it may
appear, Capt. Hyler determined to attempt the capture of the formidable
cruiser. He had ascertained that the vessel was short-handed, having
dropped from her station above with the intention of making an early
departure for Halifax. The available force of the intrepid whaleboat
commander consisted of forty-six well-armed and resolute men, expert
at the oar, trained to silence and dexterity, so as not to be heard at
close quarters, even with three or four boats pulling in company. Well
had they been named “marine devils” by their red-coated foes.

The whaleboat’s men were divided into two parties, Hyler taking one,
his Lieutenant the other. Two swift boats were soon pulling up stream,
with oars muffled, keeping well in the shadows of the rugged shore.
The night was intensely dark, rendering so small an object as a boat
close to the surface of the water impossible to be detected by the
sharpest-eyed sentry and lookout. Once in the full influence of the
tide, a grapnel was thrown overboard, to which was attached a long,
stout line. All hands disappeared beneath the thwarts, and but two
heads were visible, the leader in the stern sheets and the bow oarsman,
who veered away the line. Like a shadow, the whaleboat in charge of
the Lieutenant hovered alongside the corvette, while the officer, his
head on a level with the muzzle of the guns, swung himself into the
forechannels to reconnoitre. The anchor watch had gathered forward,
the officer of the deck was leaning idly over the cabin companionway,
intent upon what was passing below, while the marine in the after
gangway nodded at his post. Dropping cautiously on deck the daring
whaleboatman glanced hastily about him. A book covered with canvas,
hanging from a nail beside a spy-glass in a rack over the steps leading
to the officers’ quarters, caught his vigilant eye. Gliding swiftly
aft he grasped the coveted prize, regaining his boat without being
perceived. He had secured the signal-book of the Royal Navy.

Dropping under the stern, the open windows revealed the officers
drinking wine and engaging in a game of cards. Capt. Hyler listened to
the report of his assistant, put the signal-book in a place of safety,
and at once pulled for the corvette. The boats boarded on opposite
sides, the whaleboatmen gaining the deck before an alarm was sounded,
the officers, as well as the watch on deck, being secured without
creating a general alarm. The surprise was complete. Prisoners were
handcuffed and conveyed on shore, while the commander wept and wrung
his hands when the flames of his vessel lit up the surrounding gloom,
recognizing that his career as an officer had been forever disgraced.
It was not until the vessel had blown up that the commander informed
Capt. Hyler that the cabin transom had held £50,000 in gold.

One of the most daring exploits of Capt. Hyler was his visit to New
York with his men disguised and equipped as a British press gang. The
object was to secure the notorious renegade and Tory, Lippincott--Pete
Lippincott--who had savagely butchered Capt. Huddy, a brave Continental
officer. The patriots had offered a handsome reward for him, dead or
alive, and Capt. Hyler resolved to seek him in his lair.

With a select crew in one whaleboat he sallied forth from the kilns
after dark, reaching the foot of Whitehall Street as the church bells
chimed 10 o’clock. Secreting the boat and leaving a guard to watch it,
the party pursued their way through Canvasstown, as it was then called.
It was the worst locality in the city, the lowest sink hole of iniquity
possible for a human being to frequent. The house of Lippincott was
reached, surrounded and the inmates secured, but the head of the
family, fortunately for himself, had that night attended a cock-fight,
and saved his neck from the fate he richly deserved. On the return trip
down the bay a large East Indiaman was encountered, which fell an easy
prize to the whaleboatmen. The crew were set adrift, the ship taken to
a secure hiding-place, where the rich cargo was removed and the ship
burned.

Capt. Hyler and his men once paid a visit to the house of a noted
loyalist Colonel, residing at a place known as Flatlands. The Colonel
was taken, the house searched, and two bags, supposed to contain
guineas, passed into the whaleboat. When daylight dawned, while pulling
up the Raritan, the bags were examined, and found to contain pennies,
belonging to the church of Flatlands. The Colonel had the satisfaction
of indulging in a hearty laugh at the expense of his captors.

Hyler operated on the land as well as upon the water, and with equal
success. In addition to capturing a number of richly laden prizes, he
took a Hessian Major at night from the house of Michael Bergen, at
Gowanus, when his soldiers were encamped upon the lawn in front of the
house. He surprised and took a Sergeant’s guard at Canarsie from the
headquarters of their Captain. The guard were at supper, their muskets
stacked together in the hall, with no one by to guard them, and fell an
easy prize to the whaleboatmen. The arms were seized, as well as the
silver belonging to the followers of the King, and while the officers
were compelled to accompany their captors, the privates were directed
to report to Col. Axtell, in New Jersey, with the compliments of Capt.
Hyler.

On another occasion he captured four trading sloops, one of which was
armed, at Sandy Hook. One was carried off, the balance burned, the
share of prize money per man amounting to £400.

The captain of a vessel taken by Hyler published the following account
of the affair in the Pocket in 1779:

“I was on deck with three or four men on a very pleasant evening, with
our sentinel fixed. Our vessel was at anchor near Sandy Hook, and the
Lion, man-of-war, about a quarter of a mile distant. It was calm and
clear, with a full moon, about three hours above the horizon. Suddenly
we heard several pistols discharged into the cabin and perceived at our
elbows a number of armed persons, fallen, as it were, from the clouds,
who ordered us to surrender in a moment or we were dead men. Upon this
we were turned into the hold and the hatches barred over us. The
firing, however, had alarmed the man-of-war, who hailed us and desired
to know what was the matter, and Capt. Hyler was kind enough to answer
for us, saying that all was well, which satisfied the cruiser.”

But a brief outline covering the deeds of the whaleboatmen of the
Revolution has been given. But it will serve to convince the reader
that their valorous deeds in the cause of liberty have received but
scant notice and courtesy from the hands of most historians. It is
impossible to restrain one’s admiration of their skill and courage, and
although their usefulness ended with the Revolutionary War, their names
and gallantry have a high place in naval annals.

ADVENTUROUS CAREER AND PATHETIC END OF CAPTAIN JAMES DREW.

In the Episcopal churchyard connected with the quaint village of
Lewes, Del., stands a monument, stained and weather-beaten, bearing
an inscription all but worn away by the action of time and force of
the elements. It was erected in memory of James Drew, a valorous
though reckless young American seaman who fought bravely during the
Revolution. His career and services deserve a more extended and
prominent place in history than the few obscure lines traced on the
crumbling marble which marks the neglected resting-place of the brave
but unfortunate patriot.

James Drew was an early applicant for a naval position, but, owing to
a scarcity of ships, failed to obtain from Congress the commission and
active service he longed for. He bore the English no love, and when
serving as second mate, sailing out of Philadelphia, had been taken
out of the vessel while in a West India port to serve on an English
man-of-war. Drew was a tall, powerful stripling, whose breadth of chest
and shoulders and bright, intelligent face formed a physique not to be
passed lightly by. He was seized under the pretense of being an English
deserter and quickly transferred to the deck of an English frigate. For
two years he found no opportunity of escaping from his persecutors,
and in that time had acquired a perfect mastery of naval drill and
discipline which afterwards proved of inestimable value to the young
commander. The battle of Bunker Hill had been fought when young Drew
severed his connection with the Royal Navy in the following manner:

He had won the favor and good opinion of all the officers of the Medusa
frigate, then lying at Halifax, save one, the Lieutenant who had been
the means of impressing the young American. He had not forgotten or
forgiven the bitter invectives indulged in by Drew when struggling for
liberty on the deck of the molasses drogher, and to the end remained
his uncompromising enemy. The officer in question had advanced in rank
until he filled the position of second in command, while Drew held a
warrant as gunner. On some trumped-up wrong the First Lieutenant, in
the absence of his superior, summoned the object of his hatred to the
quarterdeck, where, in presence of the ship’s company, he disgraced and
struck the American. Drew incurred the penalty of death by knocking his
persecutor down, and before a hand could be outstretched to prevent him
he had leaped overboard and was swimming for the shore. The marines
fired promptly upon the escaping fugitive, while four boats were piped
away with orders to bring the deserter back, dead or alive. The shadows
of a dark and stormy night soon enveloped the retreating form of Drew,
who, diving beneath the surface, doubled on his pursuers, swam toward
the frigate, coming up under the heavy counter, gaining a footing on
the rudder. A passing wood schooner afforded him the opportunity of
making an attempt for liberty and evading the fate which stared him
in the face. He concealed himself on board until clear of the harbor,
boarded another vessel that was bound down the coast, succeeding after
many perils and hardships in once more regaining his native land. At
Philadelphia his reputation as a seaman and navigator was well known,
while Robert Morris, the great financier of the Revolution and friend
of Washington, took the young man in charge. Through the influence of
his powerful protector he could have had a Lieutenant’s commission in
the Continental navy, but this was changed for a plan which suited
young Drew’s temperament much better.

Provided with letters from Morris to a number of celebrated personages
in France, Drew crossed the ocean authorized to negotiate for a large
loan of gold and war material, and succeeded by dint of persuasion
and the influence of Morris’ name in obtaining command of a French
armed ship called the De Brock. No time was lost in preparing for
sea, the only drawback to Drew’s satisfaction being the fact that
his crew consisted entirely of Frenchmen. With the gold intended for
the cause of liberty stowed in the run, with ammunition and small
arms placed below hatches, Drew sailed for America, carrying in the
cabin a number of French officers seeking service under Washington,
and who had authority over the treasure, relative to its handling and
disposition. The nature of the vessel, destination, and character of
cargo had been kept secret as possible, enabling him to gain the sea
without detention, and the course was shaped for Synopuxette Bay, near
where now stands Ocean City, Md. The point was reached in safety and
the contents of the De Brock’s hold were soon landed. Wagons, under
the escort of soldiers, accompanied by the French passengers, conveyed
both treasure and war material to Wilmington. The arms and ammunition
were at once forwarded to army headquarters, while the gold, for some
mysterious reason, was deposited in the cellar of a large mansion
occupied by French officers serving with the Americans. There it
remained all winter, so states the records, though why Robert Morris
did not assume possession of the specie, which was so much needed, is
not so plain.

In the spring the officers were compelled to shift their quarters, when
it was discovered that the gold which had been so jealously guarded had
been by some mysterious process abstracted from the original packages.
The flaming torches held on high by the Frenchmen revealed naught but
walls and arches of solid masonry, with windows barred and massive
doors bolted and locked. No indications of violence could be found. No
developments concerning the strange affair were ever unearthed, and the
mystery involved with the disappearance of the gold remains a dark and
forgotten episode of the Revolution.

The De Brock, meanwhile, had not been idle. Once rid of her cargo,
Capt. Drew found a way of creating vacancies among the crew, until,
with a freshening breeze, he passed the capes, his ship manned wholly
by hardy and experienced fishermen, well drilled and anxious to meet
the enemy. Early on the morning of the third day a sail was sighted in
the southern offing, close hauled and standing for the De Brock. In a
short time the character of the stranger was revealed, as she displayed
the ensign and pennant of Old England, and on the part of the De
Brock, a banner bearing the device of a rattlesnake, with thirteen
rattles, coiled at the foot of a tree, in the act of striking. Both
vessels had cleared for action, and no time was lost in coming to close
quarters. Running before the wind, yardarm and yardarm within half
pistol-shot distance, broadsides were exchanged in rapid succession.
The gunnery on both sides was none of the best, which fact rendered
Drew impatient, who, watching a favorable opportunity, when both
vessels were enshrouded in smoke, motioned to his sailing-master, and
with a crash the two vessels swung together.

“Follow me, men!” shouted the impetuous Drew, leaping on the
quarterdeck of his adversary, cutlass in hand, to find himself
immediately confronted by the English commander. A mutual shout of
astonishment and fierce exultation from each revealed the fact that
the leaders were no strangers to each other. The Lieutenant of a press
gang of a few years back had won the epaulets of a commander, while
his would-be victim confronted him, the leader of a powerful and
well-disciplined force. As their swords crossed no heed was bestowed
upon the conflict raging about them. All of their energies were
concentrated upon one object, to have each other’s life-blood.

The British commander, forced backward a step as Drew pressed him
fiercely, stumbled over a ringbolt and fell at his opponent’s feet.

“Resume your sword,” said Drew, contemptuously; “I prefer to kill you
with your weapon in your hand.”

“Look to yourself, rebel and deserter. Your life is forfeited, and no
mercy shall you receive from my hand.”

“Wait until I ask it,” was the reply, and the duel was resumed. The
Englishman’s sword snapped at the hilt; but, leaping nimbly aside, he
drew a pistol, firing point-blank at his foe. Drew felt his cocked hat
lifted from his head, his scalp feeling as if seared by a red-hot iron.
At the same instant his sword passed through the commander’s body, and
the feud between them was settled forever. The ship was carried, and
was manned by a prize crew, but was lost in a terrific storm which
shortly after swept the Southern coast.

The cruise of the De Brock extended as far as the West Indies, many a
sick Jamaica trader falling into the hand of the patriots. After a long
series of successes Drew returned to Lewes, recruited and sailed again.

To recount all the incidents attending the career of the De Brock and
her commander would no doubt prove of absorbing interest, but the
records have been lost, and little remains to be related concerning him
save the manner in which the valorous seaman lost his life.

He had become enamored with one of Lewes’ fair maidens, and she,
looking into the depths of her lover’s eyes, had secured from him a
solemn promise to give up the life he was leading upon the completion
of his next voyage. Shortly after the De Brock sailed upon what was
indeed her final cruise.

In the course of time two large English ships were captured, loaded
with valuable cargoes, and carrying an immense amount of gold specie.
A gale of wind had separated them from the convoy, and, when overtaken
by the De Brock, were tacking off shore to discover, if possible, some
signs of their scattered fleet. The treasure had been transferred to
the afterhold of the American cruiser, while rich bundles and packages
of merchandise were also stowed in a place of safety. The value of the
prize was estimated at not far from £1,000,000, sufficient to make all
connected with the De Brock more than comfortable for life.

Satisfied with the unprecedented success that had befallen him, Drew
shaped his course for Lewes, driving the De Brock over the turbulent
surges of the Atlantic as she had never been forced before. As the
capes of Delaware were sighted, the elated commander allowed the
sailing-master to assume charge, while he, naturally exultant over the
wonderful success of his efforts, and in consideration that he was
about to take final leave of his officers and crew, deemed the occasion
one demanding from him an expression of his appreciation of their
valor and faithfulness. He forthwith ordered his steward and servants
to prepare the table in the cabin, and a luxurious entertainment was
prepared. The shores of his native land were close aboard, the rugged
outlines of his birthplace were before him. The cheering tides of
prosperity swept him onward to a safe haven, and almost in imagination
he felt the soft lips, warm caresses, and waving locks of his beloved
awaiting his arrival on the pebbly beach.

The decanters had been circulating rapidly, when, amid the revels,
the piercing strains of the boatswain’s whistle and his mates were
heard summoning all hands to shorten sail. The flapping of canvas and
thrashing of blocks, with loud words of command, were heard above
the boisterous mirth and incessant clinking of glasses, which, in a
measure, had kept from the ears of revelers the whistling of the rising
gale through the taut rigging. The sea had suddenly sprang up, causing
the De Brock to pitch and roll in a very erratic and uncomfortable
manner.

Capt. Drew, flushed with wine, his brain clouded by the fumes of the
choicest vintage of France, appeared on deck, and, in an unsteady
voice, chided the cool, experienced, steady-going old sailing-master
for reducing sail and placing single reefs in the topsails. He was in
no mood to have the speed of the good ship checked, with the spires
and cottages of Lewes in sight from the quarterdeck. Besides, were not
the eyes of his sweetheart upon him, as well as those of his neighbors
and friends? He would show them what their townsman, the favorite of
fortune, could do, and what the De Brock was capable of performing.
Trumpet in hand, he thundered forth order after order, resulting in
all sail being made again, until the topgallant sails were bulging
and straining at sheets and braces as the wind swept fiercely o’er
the darkening sea. Hauling by the wind, in order to head up for the
harbor, the full force of the sharp, whistling tempest was felt upon
the straining, tugging canvas of the wildly careening ship, and from
many a bronzed and furrowed cheek came glances of astonishment and
apprehension, as seamen, who had gathered experience in every clime,
looked anxiously aloft, to windward, and on the quarterdeck, where
stood Drew in full Continental uniform. But such was the discipline on
the De Brock that not a murmur reached the ears of the master spirit.
He had charge of the ship now, which no one on board would have the
hardihood to interfere with, knowing full well the impetuous and
intolerant spirit of the commander when his mettle was up. No one who
valued his life would have hazarded the shadow of a suggestion.

Unyielding and stubborn, Drew stood to windward, while a heavier
squall than usual whitened the crests of the swelling surges. A crash,
a shriek, a flashing of snowy canvas against the sullen, gloomy
background, and as the gallant vessel plunged into a seething sea,
rolling heavily to leeward, the hungry waves leaped above the submerged
rail, a black torrent of roaring water choked the open hatchways,
and the De Brock, like a flash of light, a cloud of feathery vapor,
disappeared from the horrified gaze of the interested spectators, who
with glasses had been watching the movements and wondering at the
extraordinary press of canvas being carried upon the vessel.

The De Brock turned bottom up but a short distance from Cape Henlopen,
carrying with her gold and jewels, rich bales of rare merchandise and
folds of delicate, fragile lace, representing immense values. A few of
the ship’s company succeeded in reaching floating remnants of wreckage
and were rescued by their townspeople, who hastened to the rescue
with beating hearts and sorrowful minds. Among the survivors was the
gray-haired sailing-master, who lived to tell to his descendants and
friends the many exciting incidents connected with the French-built
craft that Drew had gained and commanded with consummate skill and
gallantry.

The lifeless body of Capt. Drew, his jaunty uniform and gold epaulets
entwined with seaweed, but scarcely marred by rock or sand shore, was
found cast up on the beach, cold and rigid in death, his handsome
features proud and exultant even in death, his curly brown hair
streaming over the high collar of uniform coat, and his dark eyes wide
open, staring fixedly at the lowering heavens.

On the extreme point of Henlopen, after a heavy gale has been raging
and a fierce sea rolling in and thundering along the beach, fragments
and debris of wreckage have often been cast up by the action of the
waves, and it is current rumor in that vicinity that more than one
individual who now ranks as a leading and influential man owes success
and prominence to James Drew’s misfortune and the treasure washed out
by the sea from amid the sodden timbers of the ill-fated De Brock. The
wreck of that vessel is but one instance in a long list of similar
disasters.

At the close of the Revolution, a brig laden with specie was wrecked
in close proximity to the cape, and was followed soon after by a huge
Spanish treasure ship, her hold well ballasted with pieces of eight and
stamped bars of the precious metal. Another Spanish bark laden with
the choicest treasures from the land of the Incas came to grief on the
treacherous shoals one dark and stormy night, but three escaping to
tell the tale of horror.

BURNING OF THE FRIGATE PHILADELPHIA IN THE HARBOR OF TRIPOLI BY STEPHEN
DECATUR.

Among the exploits of our sailors there is one which for daring is
almost unparalleled in the history of naval warfare. It was a desperate
undertaking, and had the enterprise failed those who undertook it would
probably have been laughed at as foolhardy, but its success justified
the daring of the little band of heroes and brought not only fame, but
reward to all concerned.

The story of the Barbary pirates and their former control of the
Mediterranean is too well known to need repeating. Such was once the
power of the petty states which bordered the southern shore of the
Mediterranean that they levied blackmail on every maritime nation of
the world. No ship entered or left the Mediterranean without paying
tribute to the Moors. The Deys of Algiers, of Tunis, of Tripoli, became
immensely wealthy through the contributions they levied on Christian
vessels and the tributes paid by Christian States for immunity from
piracy. The United States was one of the nations which officially
helped to fill the coffers of these barbarian chieftains, but even the
tribute which was paid did not secure immunity, and in the early years
of this century it was perceived that something must be done by the
government to protect United States commerce in that quarter of the
world. Then came the war with the Algerian States, a conflict entirely
on the sea, for the distance, of course, was too great for an army
to be sent from this country, and the war practically amounted to a
blockade of the ports and the capture of such corsairs as attempted to
enter or leave.

In the autumn of 1803, the Philadelphia, a frigate of thirty-six guns,
in those days a man-of-war of the first class, was blockading the
harbor of Tripoli. A storm came on, the ship was driven to sea, and on
returning after the wind had lulled noticed a brigantine endeavoring
to steal into the port. The Philadelphia gave chase and pursued the
corsair close into the shore and within three miles of the guns of the
forts. Capt. Bainbridge, of the Philadelphia, expressed his uneasiness
at running so close to the shore, but the sailing-master professed
an intimate acquaintance with the neighborhood, having been there
before, and the pursuit was continued. Bainbridge did not know that
he was among reefs, but without a moment’s notice the ship grounded
with such violence that many of the men were thrown down on the deck.
As soon as the corsairs perceived that the ship was fast they sallied
out from Tripoli to attack the vessel, and during the day of October
31 the fight was kept up while ineffectual efforts were being made to
get off the ship by cutting away the foremast and throwing overboard
all the forward guns, but toward evening Bainbridge, recognizing the
inevitable, and fearing lest when night came on the ship might be
boarded and all on board massacred by the pirates, he scuttled the
ship and surrendered the vessel.

The pirates swarmed on board, ordered the prisoners, 315 in number,
including twenty-one officers, into their boats and took them to shore.
Day, the American poet, who was one of the crew, thus describes an
experience as the captive of the Moors: “When we approached the shore,
we were thrown headlong into the waves, foaming from a high breeze,
where the water was up to our arm-pits, and left to strangle, or get
ashore as we could. At the beach stood a row of armed janizaries,
through which we passed, amidst cursings and spittings, to the castle
gate. It opened and we ascended a narrow, winding, dismal passage,
which led into a paved avenue lined with grizzly guards, armed with
sabres, muskets, pistols, and hatchets. Here we halted again a few
moments, and were again hurried on through various turnings and flights
of stairs, until we found ourselves in the presence of his majesty, the
puissant Bashaw of Tripoli.

“The throne on which he was seated was raised about 4 feet from the
surface, inlaid with mosaic, covered with a cushion of the richest
velvet, fringed with gold, bespangled with brilliants. The floor of
the hall was of variegated marble, spread with carpets of the most
beautiful kind. The person of the Grand Bashaw made a very tawdry
appearance. His clothing was a long robe of blue silk, embroidered with
gold. His broad belt, ornamented with diamonds, held two gold-mounted
pistols and a sabre with a golden scabbard, hilt and chains. On his
head he wore a large white turban, decorated in the richest manner. His
whole vestments were superb in the extreme. His dark beard swept his
breast. I should suppose him to be about 40, is rather corpulent, 5
feet 10 inches in height, and of a manly, majestic deportment.

“When he had satisfied his pride and curiosity, the guard conducted
us into a dreary and filthy apartment of the castle, where there was
scarcely room for us to turn round and where we were kept for nearly
two hours, shivering in our wet clothes and with the chills of a very
damp night. The Neapolitan slaves, of whom the Bashaw had more than
150, brought us dry clothing to exchange for our wet, and we sincerely
thanked them for their apparent kindness, expecting to receive ours
again when dry; but the trickish scoundrels never returned our clothes
nor made us any restitution. Our clothing was new, and what they
brought us in exchange was old and ragged.”

Two days after the ship had grounded the Moors got her off, recovered
most of her guns and brought her into the harbor of Tripoli, where she
formed a substantial addition to the Bashaw’s fleet. While in captivity
Bainbridge found means to communicate through the Danish Consul in
Tripoli with the Americans, and wrote a letter to Capt. Edward Preble,
of the Constitution, then in the Mediterranean, describing the position
of the Philadelphia in the harbor and suggesting that an expedition
be sent to destroy her. Stephen Decatur was then a young Lieutenant,
in command of the sloop Enterprise. A few days after the letter from
Bainbridge was received he had captured, south of Sicily, a ketch named
the Mastico, filled with female negro slaves, and brought his prize
into Syracuse, where the slaves were liberated and the property on
board was sold for the benefit of the crew. As soon as Decatur heard
of Bainbridge’s suggestion he was eager to undertake the task in his
own ship, the Enterprise. But his proposal was rejected by Preble, who
believed the Mastico better suited for the task, and ordered that she
be employed. “Volunteers for an unusually dangerous service” were
called for, and sixty-two responded, the number being subsequently
increased to sixty-nine, and among them, besides Decatur himself, then
a mere boy of 24, were two other boys destined to play an important
part in naval affairs. One was James Lawrence, a midshipman of 16
years, the other Thomas McDonough, of 20.

[Illustration: THE CLERMONT--FULTON’S FIRST STEAMBOAT--1807.]

[Illustration: FIGHT WITH ALGERINE PIRATES.]

A large quantity of combustibles was prepared and placed in the ketch,
and with his daring crew Decatur left Syracuse for Tripoli in company
with the brig Siren, which was to wait off the harbor and pick up the
Americans in case they should be compelled to take to the small boats.
On February 9, 1804, the expedition sailed from Syracuse and arrived
off Tripoli by night, but a furious gale from the shore precluded the
possibility of making the attack, and for six days the voyagers were
tossed to and fro on the waves of the Mediterranean, their little
vessel being almost swamped by the heavy seas.

On the morning of February 16 the sun rose fair and clear, the
combustibles were examined and found to be dry and in good order, and
sail was made for the harbor, the ketch and brig proceeding slowly in
order not to arrive before night. As the darkness came on the brig
paused in the offing, while under a brisk breeze the ketch sailed into
the harbor. An hour later the wind lulled and the ketch slowly drifted
toward the Philadelphia, which was plainly visible from its great bulk,
the lighted portholes indicating that the crew was still awake. As the
ketch approached it was guided so as to foul the Philadelphia at the
bowsprit, and the Maltese pilot who had been taken on board at Syracuse
principally because he could speak Arabic called to the officer on
the Philadelphia and requested permission to make fast to the ship’s
ropes, for the ketch had lost all her anchors in the storm. Permission
was given, and a line was cast, which was caught by the three or four
men who appeared on the little boat. The remainder, stripped to the
waist for battle, and with cutlasses and pistols ready to hand, lay
stowed away behind the bulwarks and invisible to the corsairs.

The Tripolitan officer in command asked the pilot what ship was in
the offing, for the Siren had been seen, and the Maltese replied
that it was an English brig waiting for daylight to cross the bar
and enter the harbor. Not the least suspicion was roused in the
minds of the corsairs, although the rope which made fast the ketch
to the Philadelphia was even then being handled by the men concealed
beneath the bulwarks of the little slaver. As, however, a line must be
fastened from the stern to the larger vessel before boarding could be
effected, it was quite possible that the men would be discovered as
soon as the ketch was brought alongside. The pilot, however, kept the
Moors entertained with narratives of the cargo the ketch contained,
manufacturing very clever stories of the beautiful slaves and immense
wealth on board. A moment later the stern line was made fast and the
ketch brought alongside, when the Moors discovered the figures beneath
the bulwarks and raised the cry of alarm, “Americanos! Americanos!”

Decatur had divided his men into five crews--one to remain on board
and guard the ketch, the other four were first to storm the upper deck
of the Philadelphia, then three parties were to go below and fire
the ship, while the fourth held the deck against possible Moorish
re-enforcements. The moment the ketch was brought alongside Decatur
gave the word, “Boarders, away!” and the American boys swarmed through
the portholes and up over the bulwarks of the Philadelphia. So sudden
and furious was the onslaught that the Moors were taken by surprise,
and as the Americans rushed forward, cutlass in hand, fled before them,
jumping into the water to escape the terrible enemy. Of the Moorish
crew of nearly 300 on board, twenty were killed outright, how many were
drowned could not be ascertained, but a number, afraid to leap from the
ship, hid below to perish a few minutes later like rats in their holes.

In five minutes from the time of boarding the deck was cleared of the
pirate crew, the work being done solely with the cutlass; not a shot
was fired from beginning to end. The parties appointed to do the firing
at once began the work of hauling the combustibles aboard and passing
them to the lower decks, cabin and hold. Fire was set to the ship in
a dozen different places and the flames spread with such rapidity
that some of the Americans had a narrow escape, and one was severely
scorched by being compelled to pass up through a burning hatchway. The
work was well done, and, as the flames appeared through the portholes,
a rocket was sent up from the ketch to notify the brig outside that the
enterprise had been successful.

Their work finished, the Americans hastily let themselves down into
the ketch, and not a moment too soon, for so rapidly did the flames
spread that there was danger of their little boat taking fire. The
Philadelphia was a mass of glowing flames before the ketch could be
disengaged, and such was the draught of air toward the burning ship
that for some moments it seemed uncertain whether the ketch could be
gotten away. The stern and sails did actually take fire, but a few
buckets of water extinguished the blaze, and the men set to work with a
will at the oars, of which there were four on each side.

The capture of the ship had been effected without apparently the least
suspicion on shore of what was going on. The Philadelphia lay directly
under the guns of the largest fort and not quite 400 yards away. Long
before the swimmers from the ship could reach the shore the blaze
warned the garrisons of the forts that something was wrong. Small
boats were immediately dispatched, some of the swimmers picked up, and
thus the truth became known. As the ketch was in plain view, a heavy
fire was at once commenced and from a hundred guns on each side of the
harbor belched forth flame and iron in vengeance for the daring act.
But whether from haste or inefficiency, the aim of the gunners was bad,
and although shell and shot plowed up the water all around the ketch
she was struck but once, and then only by a ball going through the sail.

More to be dreaded than the artillery fire was the swarm of boats
crammed with corsairs that put forth from the shore in pursuit. Decatur
said afterwards that the little crew of the ketch must have been chased
by a hundred craft of all sizes, containing probably a couple of
thousand men, but the pirates reasoned very correctly that Americans
who could attempt so desperate an act as the burning of a ship almost
within stone’s throw of the forts were not to be trifled with in a
hand-to-hand engagement, so kept at a respectful distance and contented
themselves with a running fire of musketry. The Americans replied,
those not at the oars maintaining a lively fusillade, while another
rocket was sent up as a signal to the brig for aid. It was responded to
by a rocket in the offing, the Siren’s boats, full of well-armed men,
put off to the rescue, and as soon as they came within firing distance
the Tripolitans withdrew.

Thus was achieved what Lord Nelson called the most daring act of
the age. Not an American was killed, only one was wounded, he very
slightly, and a third was, as already stated, severely scorched.
Every participant in this hazardous adventure received his reward.
Decatur, although only a boy, was made Captain; Lawrence and McDonough
received substantial promotion; and every seaman was voted two months’
extra pay. The exploit had serious consequences for the crew of the
Philadelphia, for the Dey of Tripoli fell into a furious passion at the
loss of the ship and at once consigned the Americans to the filthiest
dungeons in his castle, where they remained until liberated at the
close of the war. The act of Decatur’s expedition had an important
influence in bringing the war to an early conclusion, for, as the
Danish Consul expressed it in an interview with the Dey, “If the
Americans can burn your ships lying under the guns of the fort, they
may undertake to burn your palace over your head,” and the Dey seems to
have taken the same view of it. He did not have long to reflect upon
the matter, however, for in less than six months Preble’s squadron
arrived off Tripoli with better pilots than those of the Philadelphia,
sailed through the intricate channels, entered the harbor, bombarded
the forts and town, and the Dey was glad to conclude a treaty of
peace, releasing all the American prisoners and promising not to
demand nor exact tribute from American vessels. Decatur’s later career
fully justified the reputation he won in his earliest exploit, but
none of his subsequent deeds of bravery exceeded the burning of the
Philadelphia.

McDUGALL’S PLUCKY FIGHT IN SIMONOSEKI STRAITS.

Another of the almost unrecorded chapters in the annals of the American
Navy was the heroic action between the U. S. ship Wyoming, Commander
McDugall, and three Japanese cruisers supported by six shore batteries,
during the Civil War.

The Wyoming had her part in all the hardest of blockading and cruising
service and fought well whenever she had a chance. She was sent at the
same time as her sister ship, the Kearsarge, to cruise for that scourge
of the seas, the Alabama, and just missed her by the merest chance on
two occasions in the China Seas. From there the Alabama squared away
for the Atlantic again and went to meet her fate under the heights
of Cherbourg, while the Wyoming sailed to her hardest fight with the
forces of the Tycoon.

It was in 1863, toward the end of the dual reign of the Tycoon and the
Mikado. Japan was in the throes of civil war, and the foes of the rebel
princes were resisting to the last the passing of the old feudal system.

The Prince of Nagato was one of these, and from his tiny kingdom
that fronted on the Straits of Simonoseki he declared himself lord
of all he surveyed, including the neighboring seas, from which he
took as generous toll as did ever the pirate chiefs of Tariffa. He
had laid violent hands upon the vessels of various powers, including
Great Britain, France, the Netherlands, and the United States.
Representatives of these powers had protested, but the protests had
been of little moment. The Japanese central government had disavowed
the acts of the pirate prince, but confessed its inability to deal with
him while more formidable matters engaged its attention.

Meanwhile Prince Nagato throve and flourished, and one day fired on
the American merchantman Pembroke, having failed to wring tribute or
blackmail by any other means, and killed two of her crew. Another
diplomatic protest from the combined foreign representatives followed,
but Commander McDugall, who was in port with the Wyoming, suggested
that if the Mikado could not subdue his rebellious subject the Wyoming
could and would without much urging. Accordingly, McDugall was given
carte blanche to settle accounts with the Prince of Nagato in behalf of
all the powers concerned.

It was the middle of July when the Wyoming found herself in the Straits
of Simonoseki and in sight of the shore batteries, which were a part of
the prince’s defenses to seaward. Before she had time to open on the
batteries two Japanese gunboats loomed up, one ahead and one astern, in
the narrow straits, and presently a third came cruising out from among
the neighboring islands. It was a nasty place for a fight, McDugall
being without charts or pilots, and the odds were more than enough for
Nelson himself, being forty-eight guns of the three Japanese vessels to
the twenty-six of the old Wyoming, to say nothing of the batteries on
shore.

Working to windward of the nearest Japanese ship, the Wyoming opened
at long range, and worked down on her till when close aboard there was
nothing of the enemy left standing above decks. The other two vessels
had come up in the meantime and engaged the American on either side,
but she lay to and gave them shot for shot, port and starboard, till
her gunners were smoke-blind and the flame of the guns no longer served
to light the battle-cloud that rolled in white billows over the smooth
waters of the straits. It was desperate work in the shallow water, but
the Wyoming was the best vessel and she outmanœuvered her two opponents
from the start, though twice aground and once afire, with as many men
disabled from splinters and heat as from the enemy’s shot.

Fighting themselves out of one smoke-patch into another, the three
combatants circled around till they had drifted down in range of the
shore batteries, which opened upon the Wyoming. But McDugall ran across
the bows of one of his enemies, raked her as he went and left her a
floating wreck, and then turned his attention to the batteries. The
Wyoming’s men rigged the smith’s forge on deck and tossed hot shot into
the works ashore till they set them afire, and the soldiers fled, and
the crew of the remaining cruiser followed their example.

McDugall mended his rigging and patched his bulwarks, sent word to the
recalcitrant prince to arrange for indemnity, which he did. The share
of the United States was $300,000.

In this action McDugall’s loss was five men killed and six wounded.

CAPTAIN McGIFFEN AT THE BATTLE OF THE YALU.

On September 17, 1894, the Chinese ironclad Chen-Yuen with her sister
ship, the flagship Ting-Yuen, and nine smaller war vessels, met the
Japanese off the mouth of the Yalu River.

The Chen-Yuen was protected by 12 and 14-inch armor, and carried four
12.2-inch, two 6-inch, and twelve machine guns. Her commander was
Captain McGiffen of the United States Navy.

Here the famous battle of the Yalu, the first great trial of modern
ironclads, was fought. Owing to the cowardice of several Chinese
commanders, who ran away at the first exchange of shots, eight Chinese
ships did all the fighting against the twelve ships of the enemy. The
battle was altogether a contest of Orientals, except that one man
of European blood, trained in the naval school of a great Western
power, commanded the Chen-Yuen--Philo Norton McGiffin, of the
United States Navy. His fighting that day was the dramatic climax of
a brave and spotless life that had been a nineteenth-century revival
of knight-errantry. The lives of none of the free-lances and fearless
adventurers from Hawkesworth to Gordon were more romantic than that of
McGiffin.

[Illustration: CRUISER FOLLOWING TORPEDO INTO ACTION.]

The reduction by Congress of the U. S. naval force sent adrift
Lieutenant McGiffin, a graduate of Annapolis in the class of ’82. As
China was engaged in war in Asia, McGiffin straightway tendered his
services to the Chinese Government. The result was eventually that
China took one French gunboat in a war otherwise entirely disastrous to
her. In 1887 McGiffin became the head of the Chinese Naval Academy at
Wei-Hai-Wei. This was the reason for his command of one of China’s two
most formidable warships in the battle which decided the outcome of the
Chino-Japanese war.

The crews of the Chinese fleet had gone through their morning drill and
dinner was nearly ready when smoke from the Japanese ships was sighted
by the lookout. The appearance of Japan’s fleet had been expected for
a week, but nevertheless the blood in every man’s veins throbbed quick
as the call to action sounded throughout the fleet. The Chen-Yuen
had already been stripped for action. The decks were cleared for the
passage of ammunition and for the free movement of the crew and in
order to secure unobstructed arcs of fire for the guns. The small boats
had been abandoned, the ladders overboard or wrapped in wet canvas.
These measures were taken to avoid the danger from fire and flying
splinters, both of which are as much to be feared in a sea-fight as the
enemy’s shot. The gun-shields, by order of Captain McGiffin, had been
removed from the big guns as affording no protection from heavy shot
and as serving to intercept and cause to explode shells that would
otherwise pass over the heads of the gunners. The ship’s firehose had
been connected and let out and bags of sand and coal placed on deck to
form breastwork against small shot. Ammunition for immediate use was
piled beside the guns. The suggestive hospital appliances, bandages,
and cots and chairs rigged for lowering the wounded to the sick bay,
were in position. Buckets of sand were placed about the decks and
inside the superstructure; for when men are torn to pieces the flow of
blood makes the deck slippery.

In less than an hour after the Japanese ships dotted the horizon the
battle had begun. The Chinese sailors were brave and eager for the
fight. They were prepared neither to give nor take quarter and expected
either to win or go down with their ship.

McGiffin stood motionless on the bridge listening to the reports of
the range announced by the sub-lieutenant in the foretop as the fleets
rapidly neared each other. The ordeal before him and his men was more
terrible than soldiers had been called upon to face in regular battle
since the beginning of human wars. That McGiffin fully realized the
situation was shown by a letter written to his brother upon starting to
meet the Japanese ships. “You know,” he said, “it is four killed to one
wounded since the new ammunition came in. It is better so. I don’t want
to be wounded. I prefer to step down or up and out of this world.” Not
extraordinary words, but splendidly expressive of a soldier-like way of
facing fate.

The closing lines of this letter were sadly prophetic. McGiffin wrote:
“I hate to think of being dreadfully mangled and then patched up, with
half my limbs and senses gone.”

He came home in exactly the condition he had described. and, true to
his determination, chose to step up and out of it all.

There was no sound but the panting of the ship under forced draught.
The men, grouped quietly at their stations, did not venture to speak
even in whispers. “Fifty-two hundred metres,” the range was called.
Then the great yellow flag of China was raised to the main truck, the
quick-firing guns opened fire, and the fight began.

The battle lasted for nearly five hours, with the two Chinese
battleships as its centre.

It was estimated that McGiffin’s ship was hit 400 times and 120 times
by large shot or shell. The rain of projectiles visited every exposed
point of the vessel. Early in the fight a shell exploded in the
fighting top, instantly killing every one of its inmates. Indeed, all
such contrivances proved to be deathtraps. Five shells burst inside the
shields of the bow six-inch gun, completely gutting the place. Though
the carnage was frightful, the Chinese sailors, with their commander
to encourage them, stuck to their posts. A chief gunner was aiming his
gun when a shell took off his head. The man behind him caught the body,
passed it back to his companions, calmly finished the sighting of the
piece and fired it.

The Chen-Yuen gave as hard knocks as she received, and until her
ammunition ran low her fire was rapid and more effective than that
of her adversaries. One of the last shells, fired under McGiffin’s
personal direction from a twelve-inch gun, disabled the thirteen-inch
gun on the enemy’s flagship, the Matsushima, and exploded the powder on
deck, killing or wounding more than 100 Japanese officers and men. Then
McGiffin’s Chinamen cheered joyfully.

Throughout the whole fight McGiffin was the dominating spirit of his
ship. He was at once her brains and her inspiration.

Even cowardice itself was moved by his fearless example. At the opening
of the fight he discovered a lieutenant and a dozen terrified men
hidden below one of the engine turrets. McGiffin thrashed the officer
and sent them all on deck, where they afterward fought like heroes.

The five hours’ strain on the commander was terrific, for there was
no subordinate who could relieve him, and his presence was required
everywhere. Whilst the fight was hottest a fire broke out in the
superstructure above the forecastle. It became necessary to run out
a hose in the range of the starboard guns, which had been ordered to
fire to port across the forecastle. The men refused to do this until
McGiffin called for volunteers and offered to lead them. Word was
sent to the head-gunner at the starboard battery to train his pieces
ahead, and McGiffin and his volunteers started with the hose for the
forecastle. Half of the men were shot down by the enemy. As the captain
stooped over to grasp the hose a shot passed between his legs, burning
his wrists and severing the tail of his coat. A fragment of a shell
that had burst against the tower wounded him a second time.

Meanwhile men at the forcastle gun were falling rapidly and the
head-gunner was killed. The man who took his place, not knowing that
his comrades were in front of his guns, discharged one of them. The
explosion knocked the captain and his men down and killed several
outright. At the same instant another shot struck McGiffin.

He would probably have remained there unconscious if water from a gash
in the hose had not revived him. His first glance on coming to his
senses was into the muzzle of the starboard gun. It was slowly moving
into position for firing. “What an ass I am to sit here and be blown to
pieces,” thought McGiffin. So he flung himself from the superstructure
and fell eight feet to the deck below. With blood pouring from his
mouth he crawled into the superstructure and told the men to carry him
aft. In a few minutes he was fighting his ship again.

McGiffin stood very near a large gun when it exploded. He was almost
blinded. His hair and eyebrows were burned off and his clothes torn and
set on fire. There was a series of gashes in his trousers extending
their entire length. Throughout the fight his ears were stuffed with
cotton, as were those of all the gunners, but after the day’s fighting
his ear-drums were found to be permanently injured by concussion.
Several times he was wounded by splinters, which he extracted himself.

With forty wounds in his body, holding an eyelid up with one hand,
this man of iron nerve led the fighting on his ship until the Japanese
vessels gave up the contest and he alone of all the Chinese commanders
kept his ship in its proper position throughout the fight, thus
protecting the flagship and saving the fleet from total destruction.

When the Japanese admiral withdrew, McGiffin navigated his ship to
its dock. His mind never lost its effectiveness, though his body was
shattered beyond repair. In fact, his body was described as being so
covered with bruises that it resembled a checker-board.

In this action a new style of sea-fighting was inaugurated and an
American sailor, a young man 34 years of age, set its standard for
daring and fortitude under fire of the modern guns.

After his great battle Captain McGiffin, a mental and physical wreck,
came to America to die. He met death as a brave man should, with but
one regret: He wished that he might have had one chance to fight for
his own country, with a Yankee crew at his back and a Yankee ship under
him.

OUR NEW NAVY.

Since the last of the naval battles recorded in preceding chapters was
fought, the advance in ships, engines, and guns has been such that
warships of the past are considered obsolete; while the introduction of
smokeless powder and projectiles containing heavy charges of dynamite
or gun-cotton has increased the efficacy of modern ordnance.

The use of armor for ships is so recent, only dating from the time of
our civil war, that modern war-ships have been little in action. In
fact the war between England and the United States, in 1812-15, was the
last important naval war previous to the introduction of steam. The
revolution in naval tactics caused by steam was very great, but our
civil war afforded little experience in fleet actions, the important
naval affairs being for the most part attacks of fleets upon land
fortifications. The only fairly well-matched, stand-up fight of that
war between vessels was that of the Kearsarge and Alabama.

Steel has come into use for the hulls of vessels--and the invention,
by our own citizens, of nickel-steel, and of the Harvey process for
plates, has caused a revolution in the application of defensive armor.

We may instance the armor for the battle-ship _Maine_, which vessel
carried on her sides alone four hundred and seventy-five tons of
metal--Harveyized nickel steel. The plate which was tried at the Naval
Proving Ground, at Indian Head, on the Potomac, and upon the proof of
which depended the receiving of the whole quantity from the contracting
company, was thirteen feet seven inches long, seven feet wide, and
twelve inches in thickness at the top, tapering to six inches. These
measurements may give some idea of the tremendous power of the
implements employed in forging and tempering such a mass of metal.

It successfully resisted four shots from an eight-inch rifled gun,
firing, at only a few yards’ distance, the best armor-piercing shot,
breaking the latter to fragments. Then a ten-inch gun was tried upon
the same plate. Again the shot was broken up, and the plate, already
hit four times before, was cracked, but remained still capable of
affording perfect protection. It is not at all probable that any one
plate would be hit five times in the course of an action--and so
this armor is considered as near perfection as it is possible for
metallurgists to come, in the present state of knowledge. The _Maine_
and _Texas_, and the battle-ships of the _Iowa_ class, as well as the
great monitors, _Puritan_ and _Monadnock_, all of which vessels are of
the latest construction, have these plates, thereby saving much weight,
and allowing of additional armor protection to the upper works. The
heavy armor extends from one barbette to the other, in the _Iowa_ being
about 180 feet, and from four and a half feet below the water line to
three feet above it. At the level of the belt is a curving steel deck,
three inches thick, to deflect plunging shot; while the mass of coal is
so arranged in the bunkers as to protect the boilers and machinery.

The _Iowa_ carries four 12-inch rifles, mounted in pairs in two
turrets, eight 8-inch rifles, also mounted in pairs in turrets, six
rapid-fire 4-inch rifles, and an ample secondary battery of twenty
6-pounder and six 1-pounder rapid-fire guns, and two gatlings--all high
powered breech-loading guns of the best American manufacture.

In the last few years there have also been great changes and
improvements in different forms of explosives, the development of
torpedo boats and torpedo-catchers, and modes of defence against such
attacks. Almost all the large vessels have double bottoms, divided in
many separate cells like honeycombs--and packed with a preparation
of cocoa-nut fibre, which swells when in contact with water, thus
effectually stopping shot holes. There are also many transverse
bulkheads, making many compartments of the vessel’s hull; while the
engines are so cut off by them that one is independent of any injury
to the other. There are also many small engines, for various purposes,
and electric light makes the deepest part of the interior of the great
ship’s hull as plain as the upper deck, in full sunlight. Lastly, the
great increase in speed and power of engines tend to make the war-ship
a very different thing from what she was at the time spoken of in the
previous chapter.

There are, of course, limitations to the range and efficiency of the
new Navy, owing to the necessity of replenishing supplies of fuel,--a
most difficult and extremely costly process in many parts of the world.
Such modern cruisers as the _Columbia_ carry, to be sure, an immense
quantity of coal--and there are others, such as the _New York_ and the
_Olympia_, which not only possess great speed, but also carry more fuel
than most vessels of their class. They need to do so, for our coaling
stations abroad are very few.

Some nations, especially the Italians, who have a very formidable
navy, and one far above their means, have experimented extensively
with petroleum, in its crude form, as a fuel, and, it is stated,
with a certain degree of success. But this for the most part is a
consideration for those nations which have no mines of coal under
their own control, and we must remember that, in time of war, the
supply of petroleum might be cut off even more effectually than that
of coal. But to return:--The use of steel for the hulls of vessels,
the armor, protective decks, and other purposes of construction, has
greatly multiplied the strength of those parts, while it has made the
whole much lighter, so that the same expenditure of steam will carry
the structure much farther and much faster. We have already stated
that nickel-steel is able to resist very effectually the most modern
projectiles from the latest guns. When, a few years ago, such qualities
were claimed for it by us, the English experts in such matters rather
sneered at the idea, and said that more extensive trials should be
had before they could believe in its value. The experiments were so
triumphantly successful that not only was all opposition withdrawn, but
the object then was to get hold of the process as soon as possible.
Nickel-steel is what may be called a _great fact_, and subsequent
discoveries in metallurgy will never destroy its value for certain
purposes.

The Harvey process was another thing upon which the Europeans looked
with great doubt until the perfect success of armor made in that way,
in trials against very powerful guns at short range, opened their eyes.
This process consists in the hardening of the outside surface of a
thick plate to a certain depth, leaving the back part of the plate
with the toughness of the untempered metal, so that the shot which
strikes it has to encounter obstacles of two kinds--the hardness which
breaks it up, and the toughness which prevents serious entry.

As it is, the contest between gun and armor is continually going on.
When armor is found which resists very powerful guns and the newest
explosive, a more powerful gun is built, which makes another increase
in armor necessary. At the present time there is no predicting how long
this contest may go on, for the improvements in guns and armor keep
equal pace.

New explosives have the same story to tell. They vary in name and in
effect, but most of them are based upon the same chemical principles.
Some keep better than others, and are thus best suited for preservation
in the magazines of ships, where, especially in case of faulty
construction, or of prolonged stay in hot climates, the delicate
chemical combination of which the modern explosive consists is very
much more likely to undergo change than the old-fashioned “black
power”--especially when the latter was well made.

There is, therefore, constant experimenting, and constant change in
opinion in regard to explosives.

Torpedoes are another source of trouble to experts in naval warfare;
the fact being that they have never been sufficiently tried in actual
service to settle completely their respective values. Of the mobile
torpedoes one was used with destructive effect during the Chilean War,
and some spar-torpedoes were effective during our Civil War, and during
the Russo-Turkish War, where mobile torpedoes were also used, but it is
still a matter of doubt with many naval officers of experience as to
what part the mobile torpedo is to play in any future contest.

As regards torpedo-boats, which launch their torpedoes one at a time,
and directly in the line in which the boat is pointed, the opinion is
that they will prove very useful for coast and harbor defence, but
unfit for severe weather or heavy seas, very wearing upon their crews,
liable to accidents of a serious nature, and only able to carry fuel
for short runs. Many of the accidents to this class of boats have
involved loss of life, and, while the French and English have increased
their number, other nations, such as the Italians and the Germans, have
rather decided against their increase. At one time within recent years
the Italians encouraged torpedo-boats, and in Germany one of the most
successful of all builders is the Shichau Company, which has built
boats for all the world but France, America, and England.

The “torpedo catchers,” so called, are quite different affairs from the
ordinary torpedo-boat. They are quite large and swift vessels compared
with the ordinary torpedo-boat, and are intended as “counter-miners,”
and, by speed, and ability to keep the sea better, to prevent the
swarm of ordinary torpedo-boats from doing serious damage. Sufficient
experience has not been gained in the experimental trials to know just
how much these vessels will do in case of actual warfare, but much is
expected of them. Very lately a well-known English builder of torpedo
boats and other small craft has launched a boat which is said to have
made twenty-seven knots, or about the average speed of a passenger
train on a good railroad.

Submarine torpedo-boats have received much attention of late years,
when improvements and inventions, especially in electricity, have
rendered them comparatively easy to handle. In France and Spain,
especially, very successful boats have been experimented with. In our
own country, where the idea originated early in the century, there have
been several submarine boats built which have remained for a long time
under water, being directed by the crew in any wished-for course. Not
long ago Congress appropriated a large sum for building a sub-marine
torpedo boat; but experiments conducted to show whether an explosion
effected by such means would not be also fatal to the boat herself, led
to hesitation on the part of the authorities as to expending the money
in that way, and to a proposal to build surface torpedo boats instead.

_Speed_ is becoming more and more a factor in naval problems. Speed,
fuel capacity, a powerful battery, and protection, especially to the
vital parts and to the crew, are now recognized as the requisites which
go to make a fine, or capable ship, and one most likely to be generally
useful in war. Among such vessels may be mentioned the _New York_,
_Olympia_, and the _Columbia_, of our own navy. The _battle-ships_, so
called, come under a different category--being heavily armored, and
supposed to be able to resist heavy projectiles at close quarters. We
have a few of these under construction, but none of the great size
which we see in some foreign navies, principally for the reason that
many of our ports will not admit vessels of such great draught of
water--and that our authorities consider smaller vessels capable of
being more readily manœuvered. The largest battle-ships we are building
will only measure 10,200 tons, while in foreign navies they have them
of 15,000 tons. But the best naval opinion is that the latter are too
large; and experts are advocating a return to smaller size and greater
number--just as a reaction has taken place against 110-ton guns.

The latest completed battle-ships are the _Iowa_, _Indiana_,
_Massachusetts_ and _Oregon_, all of 10,200 tons, with twin screws, and
carrying sixteen guns in the main battery, beside smaller ones of the
most modern type.

The _Maine_ and _Texas_ are battle-ships of the second class--of about
9000 tons, with twin screws, and carrying about ten guns in the main
battery, and a proportion of rapid-fire smaller guns.

Such great battle-ships as these have never been tried in a close
general engagement, and, though viewed with some distrust--especially
since the accidental sinking by collision of the Victoria--nations go
on building them in rivalry, and the end is not yet. In case of a grand
battle between fleets of these giant ships, the force being anywhere
near equal, the chances would be in favor of the fleet which is best
handled. That is all that anyone can say at present. It may give the
reader some idea of these great armaments to say that, in 1894, England
had in her Mediterranean fleet twenty-four vessels of the first class,
none less than 7350, and most of them above 10,000 tons. Thirteen of
these were battle-ships, and eleven protected cruisers.

France and Russia, combined, had at the same period in those parts
thirty-three ships, none of which were below 4000 tons, and most of
which were of 10,000 tons or more.

In addition to this we must count numerous torpedo-boats, despatch
vessels and gunboats in such fleets.

The Italian navy is now a very powerful one, and contains in its list
some of the largest men-of-war afloat; and the German navy has made
great strides in advance. The Spaniards have some fine ships, but
mostly of the fast cruiser class, armed with powerful guns.

We have heard very much of late regarding the Chinese and Japanese
navies. The vessels which compose these forces have mostly been
constructed in France and England--and a few, of moderate size, have
been built at home. The Chinese have a very fine gun-factory, as well
as shops for repairs, but many of their vessels, especially in what
has been called their Southern fleet, are in very bad condition as
to hulls, engines--and especially as to the discipline of the crews.
This has become much worse since they dispensed with the services of
European officers. Their Northern fleet is in much better condition,
but time alone can prove what it is worth. Neither China nor Japan
have any vessels above 8000 tons displacement, and many are much
smaller. Their important fighting craft consist of what are called
cruisers--protected and unprotected--but armed with excellent modern
high-powered guns, and torpedoes of the latest model.

The vessels of the Japanese navy are kept in exceptionally good
condition in every respect, and their officers are considered the
more able, and their men, with a natural aptitude for the sea, are in
excellent training and discipline. Thus Japan should prove superior
to China, if only on account of the better _personnel_. Many of the
Japanese officers have passed through our own naval school with credit,
and others have been educated in the German service. Some of them,
thus educated, have already attained high command--and all show great
enthusiasm and military ardor.

The battle of the Yalu, between these two fleets and treated in a
subsequent chapter, was a most instructive lesson to the navies of the
world at large.

While we do not pretend to say that we need such a navy as England (the
national life of which country depends upon her ability to furnish
food and clothing from abroad for her population), it is evident to
anyone who thinks for a moment that a country like ours, with the most
extensive coast-line of any, should have a moderately large and very
effective navy, if only as a matter of sea-police for our own shores,
while the protection of our vessels and of citizens living and doing
business abroad comes under another head.

Persons, especially those living in the interior of our great country,
are apt to think, and to say, that there is little chance of our
becoming embroiled with any of the nations of whose great navies we
have just been speaking. But we have to go back a very few years to
show in what danger we have been of having our coasts invested by
hostile fleets for want of proper force to resist them. Spain was very
threatening in the troubles about Cuba in 1873. The attitude of Italy,
with her powerful vessels, at the time of the difficulty about the
New Orleans riots, was disquieting for a time, and, had her financial
condition been better, that country would have certainly made a naval
demonstration here. Then there was the still more threatening attitude
of Chili, which might have been very serious. However sure we might be
of eventually putting down that warlike little country, immense damage
might have been done by her in a naval raid on our west coast. There
is constant need for ships in China; not only for the protection of
Americans, but to assist in keeping down piracy, a very present danger
in that part of the world. Few months pass that it is not necessary to
send ships to Hayti, always on the verge of revolution, or actually
in the throes of civil war; and the same may be said of the countries
comprising Central America. Then Brazil may be added to the list of
unsettled countries, and we have a large and important trade there.
Of the troubles in Hawaii, and of the cruising against the seal
robbers in the North Pacific, the whole country has heard more than
enough, and everyone knows that without a navy we should be perfectly
helpless in such emergencies. The very establishment and maintenance of
great dock-yards and naval stations at Vancouver, Halifax and Bermuda
by England admonishes us to at least partially prepare to resist the
threats of naval coercion which was that nation’s favorite mode of
treating with us not so many years ago.

[Illustration: U. S. S. INDIANA.

_Copyright_, W. H. RAU.

Battleship. Twin screw. Main battery, four 13-inch, eight 8-inch and
four 6-inch breech loading rifles. Secondary battery, twenty 6-pounder
and six 1-pounder rapid fire guns and four Gatlings. Thickness of armor
18 inches. 36 officers, 434 men.]

The necessary police of the seas is recognized by all nations, and
all who can afford to do so should take a part in it. Frequent visits
to foreign ports by men-of-war increase the influence and materially
assist the business consideration of citizens who may reside abroad for
business purposes, and thus directly increase the national revenue;
while there is damage to our national pride when men-of-war of other
nations have to protect our citizens abroad, as has frequently happened
in times of trouble, from want of a sufficient number of ships in
our navy to permit of wide distribution. There are many persons in
our large country who would be mortified and shocked at such a thing
as the bombardment of New York or of San Francisco with long-range
guns--either of which events has been possible within the last ten
years. Such a proceeding would not only be humiliating to us as a
nation, but would probably cause more damage than a powerful fleet of
defensive ironclads would cost to build and maintain--not to speak of
such a thing as ransom-money demanded.

There is no fear of any nation making an effectual landing upon our
shores: the only danger is that some swift and sudden blow, when we
are unprepared, might cause immense damage to our great seaboard and
lake cities, which would not only cost untold millions in damage, and
in the subsequent expenditure necessary to repay the blow, but in the
injury to our national pride and _prestige_ among nations.

MERCHANT VESSELS.

The decay of merchant shipping in our country from the proud position
it held before the great Civil War is due to many causes, chief among
which is the substitution of iron for wood, and steam for sails. There
are very many people living, and still active, who remember the time
when the whole of the passenger traffic between Europe and the United
States was in the hands of Americans--for the reason that their ships
were more staunch, more comfortable, and very much faster, while
their seamen were more enterprising. The same was the case with the
China trade; the American clippers carried all before them: while, in
the race to the Pacific, in the early days of California, none could
compare with our vessels in rapidity and the comfort of passage.

For some years those interested in such matters almost despaired; but
there is a brighter outlook ahead now. The great lake fleet of steamers
and sailing vessels has vastly increased. The tonnage passing through
the Sault de Ste. Marie is really greater than our whole ocean tonnage
of forty years ago: and the improvement in the quantity and size of
merchant vessels built during the last few years for ocean service,
while not keeping pace with the lake traffic, on account of foreign
competition, is still very gratifying.

We have already spoken of the ability shown by Americans, during the
last few years, to produce the best armor in the world, guns equal to
any, and war-ships of the very first class, in hull and machinery.

This is all a preparation and education for taking our proper place as
builders of the very best merchant vessels. Builders could not afford
the extensive apparatus and machinery necessary for such construction
unless they had been encouraged by government orders in the beginning.
Such works as those at Bethlehem, in Pennsylvania, would never have
constructed the largest steam-hammer in the world, if it had not been
for the encouragement afforded by government orders. Now they are
prepared to forge shafts, and other great pieces, for the largest
merchant steamers, for the obtaining of which we formerly had to send
abroad.

As for plants for iron or steel ship-building, we now have many.
Cramps’ establishment, in Philadelphia, is said to be the third
largest in the world--and will soon rank higher; there are other great
works for merchant vessels on the Lakes and the Mississippi, and at
Newport’s News, near Hampton Roads. After these come the works at South
Boston and the different establishments at New York. The purely naval
building-yards and plants at the New York navy yard, and at Norfolk,
are well known; while the Union Iron Works at San Francisco have turned
out some of the finest vessels afloat, both men of war and merchantmen.
There are also such works in Bath, Maine.

But the least effect of these great plants is shown in their production
up to this time. They are not only educational to ship and engine
builders, but they foster a number of most valuable trades--such as
ship-carpenters, plumbers, copper-smiths, joiners, and many others.
Above all come the naval designers or architects. Men so trained are
well paid, and are required to turn out the very highest grade of work;
and thus we are forming a force, at many points of our great country,
fitted, when the time comes (and it must soon come), to build up our
sea-going mercantile marine to an equality with the sister service on
the Great Lakes, so as to enable it to carry our products abroad, and
bring back the returns, without depending upon foreign bottoms for
that service. A few years ago there was no place in this country where
a young man could go to learn the business of designing and building
iron vessels--now there are many such places--and they are constantly
increasing in number.

MACHINERY.

Not the least wonder of our day is the improvement in the machinery of
steam-vessels of all kinds.

The engineer’s department of a first-class cruiser or battle-ship is
a bewildering and wonderful sight to one not accustomed to it. The
complicated engines, with their numerous cylinders, which use the steam
over and over, seem almost too delicate, and too like a fancy creation,
to be capable of driving the propellers at such a rate as they do.
Instead of the rude levers of former days, these giant machines are
managed by the turning of wheels which look like playthings as compared
with the forces which they control so easily.

The boilers not only serve to drive the main engines, but there are
others devoted to different uses; among which the principal are the
distilling of salt into fresh water, and thus giving an abundant
supply of one of the very first necessaries of life, and rendering
the vessel and the crew independent of the shore in that respect. It
is also most conducive to health; for much of the disease found on
ship-board, within even recent times, was due to the character of the
water obtained from the shore. Then there are the electric dynamos, and
their boilers which must run when the ship is at anchor, as well as
when she is under weigh; while her steam steering-gear, when in motion,
renders her guidance very easy in the hands of one man, when four or
six would be required at the wheels of vessels in the old days.

[Illustration: U. S. S. BALTIMORE.

Protected cruiser. Twin screw. Main battery, four 8-inch and six 6-inch
breech loading rifles. Secondary battery, four 6-pounder, two 3-pounder
and two 1-pounder rapid fire guns, four Hotchkiss revolving cannons and
two Gatlings. Thickness of protective deck, 4 inches on slope, 2¹⁄₂ on
the flat. 36 officers, 350 men.]

As for war-ships, the vessel is under complete control of one man, the
Captain, who, with the helmsmen, occupies the fighting-tower. He is
informed by indicators of what is going on all over the great craft
below him, and his orders to the engineers, to the gun divisions, and
to all other parts, are transmitted in the same way. But ordinary
speaking-tubes and such matters are not forgotten, in case hostile
shot should destroy the other means of communication; while, far
below the water-line, is the old-fashioned steering-wheel, secure
from shot or shell, to be used in case the more delicate and more
exposed steering-gear should be shot away. The number of trained and
experienced men which such a complicated machine as a modern war-ship
or first-class passenger vessel requires, is very great. There is less
need for old-fashioned sailors--who could go aloft in any weather to
reef and furl--but there is seamanship still required to navigate,
to heave the lead, to man and manage boats, and many other things,
beside the mere drilling and working of artillery and small arms. It
requires some training even to be able to take care of one’s self in
bad weather, especially in a large ship, where places to hold on are
far apart. Of course, in a modern ship the engineer’s force, as well
as those immediately in charge of dynamos, of electric lights, and of
search-lights, comprise a much larger proportion of the whole ship’s
company than in former times; and the vigilance, experience, and
foresight which have to be displayed in the depths of the vessel is
equal to that required upon the spar-deck and bridge.

OFFICERS AND MEN.

Now that our administrations, of both political parties, have for
some years committed themselves to a gradual increase of our navy, to
consist of the very newest ships and guns, it may be safely supposed
that in a few years we shall have a _respectable_ navy, in point of
numbers, as it is now in point of quality.

After all, the best ships are of no use without the presence of men
trained to manage them, and to conduct successfully the well-being and
discipline of a large number of people. In a first-class man-of-war,
the elements may be compared to a civil organization in this way: the
Captain is the Mayor, except that he has much more power and authority
than most mayors; the Lieutenants are the executive and police
officers, as well as leaders in battle; the Junior officers are in
training for such positions. The Marine officer and his men represent
the militia, adding police duties; and the medical staff looks out for
the general health. Then there is the Paymaster and his clerk, who
attend to financial matters of all kinds; the engineer corps, which
keeps the whole thing going, and lights as well as propels the great
machine. Lastly, there is a Chaplain, who not only attends to divine
service (as required by the Articles of War), but in many ways makes
his influence known. The subdivision of duties on board a man-of-war
often makes landsmen wonder whether such a course is necessary; but the
experience of many generations teaches that it is.

NAVAL ACADEMY.

It may be of interest to our readers to know something about the way
in which the officers of the navy are trained for their important
duties. For many years after the foundation of the navy, boys of tender
years were appointed midshipmen through the influence of friends of
the President or the Secretary of the Navy. They then were sent to
sea at once, in a cruising man-of-war, and, after five or six years,
went to a naval school, as it was called, for a few months. At the end
of six years they became passed-midshipmen, if found able to pass a
simple examination; after which they had to wait for vacancies in the
list above them to become lieutenants, commanders, and captains. The
latter was, up to the time of the late civil war, the highest grade
in the navy, and corresponded in rank with colonel in the army. Those
officers who commanded squadrons or stations were, by courtesy, termed
commodores. The manner of education of the young officers who were
destined to high command in the navy had long been felt to be faulty,
although under it such officers had been reared as Farragut and Rowan,
Porter, and John Rodgers; and it was thought that a school something
on the lines of West Point, which had long existed for the army, would
be of benefit to the service and to the country. About this time a
change took place in the manner of appointment of naval cadets, and
the Congressmen of the various States had them put in their hands,
with a limited number left in the hands of the President, who was apt
to bestow them on the sons of worthy officers of the army or navy
who had died in the service. This is the usual practice at present.
Representatives are notified when an appointment falls due in their
district, and some Congressmen put such appointments up for public
competition among the lads of proper age and health, who, on going to
the Naval Academy to enter, have to pass a close physical examination,
as well as one in elementary branches of learning. Many are rejected,
from one cause or another, and the custom has arisen of appointing
an alternate, who may be examined for the position if the first one
fails, either physically or mentally. Those who are successful in the
examination receive $500 a year, during their academic course, which
is an ample sum for their support at the school. During the course
many drop out; some from ill conduct; some from inability to follow
the course; and some few from failure of health; although the healthy
regimen and good hours often improve boys who are a little delicate
or backward. But it must be remembered that it is useless for any lad
who is thoroughly lazy and unambitious to enter there, as he is sure
to be weeded out. Many classes do not graduate more than half of their
original members.

The Naval Academy, at Annapolis, Maryland, was founded in 1845, through
the enlightened policy of Mr. Bancroft, the celebrated historian, who
was then the Secretary of the Navy, under President Polk. Commander
Buchanan (who was afterwards Admiral Buchanan of the Confederate Navy)
was the first officer in charge.

The site of the Academy was secured by the transfer from the War to
the Navy Department of Fort Severn and its surroundings, one of the
defences of Annapolis, at the mouth of the Severn river, near its
entrance into Chesapeake bay, and with plenty of water for naval
work. In 1849 a Board was organized to make regulations which were to
conform, as much as possible, to those of the Military Academy at West
Point. In 1851 the course of study was fixed at four years, with annual
examinations, and summer cruises in practice ships to familiarize
the lads with sea duties. There was also a board of visitors, to be
appointed by the President, who reported, annually, upon the annual
examinations and the general condition and requirements of the school.
This board consisted of Senators and citizens distinguished for their
acquirements in science, as well as officers of different corps of the
Navy.

Owing to the Civil War the school was transferred, in 1861, to Newport,
Rhode Island, where it remained until 1865, when it was returned to
Annapolis. The grounds have been greatly enlarged and improvements of
every kind made, until now it is one of the most beautiful and perfect
establishments in the world. There is no place in Europe, devoted to
naval training, which has anything like the space, the buildings and
material, and the equable climate which the Annapolis school possesses.
Although the country is flat, the fine expanses of water, and the
wealth of foliage, give the situation great attractions, while the old
and historic town of Annapolis, so connected with the Colonial period
and the Revolution, retains its curious plan, and its old church,
court-house, and residences, much as they were when Washington resigned
his commission.

When the school was re-established at Annapolis the course of studies
was rearranged to suit the advance in such matters as steam, gunnery,
and mathematics--and has remained much the same ever since--only
adopting improved methods as the occasion arose.

The course of instruction is a long one--too long to be given here,
but we may mention some of the studies pursued. There are seamanship
and naval construction, naval tactics, practical exercises, signals,
swimming, gymnastics, etc., ordnance and gunnery, including infantry
tactics, field-artillery and boat-howitzer exercise, great guns,
mortar practice, and fencing; mathematics up to the calculus; steam
engineering, with practical exercise, and the theory, fabrication, and
designing of steam engines; astronomy, navigation, and surveying;
physics and chemistry; mechanics, and applied mathematics, and
theoretical naval architecture; English studies, and history and law;
French and Spanish; drawing and chart-making; and other kindred studies.

Any one who shows great aptitude is put into the engineering branch,
and enters the Engineer Corps; others enter the Marine Corps, as second
lieutenants; and sometimes, when there are no vacancies, those who
graduate honorably, although at the foot of their class, are enabled,
by Act of Congress, to take an “honorable discharge” from the service,
with a year’s pay.

When a lad succeeds in passing the examination and entering the Naval
Academy, he is required to sign articles which bind him to serve in
the Navy eight years, including his time at the Academy, unless sooner
discharged. The system of examination comprises monthly, semi-annual,
and annual examinations, which are conducted in writing, the members of
a class all receiving the same questions. If a cadet fails to pass the
semi-annual or annual examinations he is dropped.

With the theoretical studies there are the sail, spar, boat, gun, and
small-arm drills, all of which, with good conduct, go to make up the
total of “marks” of the cadet. Misconduct or insubordination leads to
the receipt of “demerits,” which may become so numerous as to prevent
a cadet from continuing at the Academy, even when distinguished in his
studies. Some of the same officers who have charge of the cadets during
the scholastic year are detailed for the practice ships during the
summer cruise, so that they have complete knowledge of the acquirements
of their pupils. The summer cruise of the cadets at Annapolis
corresponds to the encampment of the West Point cadets; being almost
entirely practical in its nature. The cadet engineer class, instead of
a long voyage, go on board a practice steamer, and visit navy-yards,
and ship-yards, rolling-mills, foundries, machine-shops, etc., where
practical illustration may be had of a part of their studies. The
academic grounds, inside the walls, consist of fifty acres, while
outside there are one hundred acres more. On this fine property there
are a great number of buildings, for quarters, mess-halls, class rooms,
armory, steam-building, etc., beside an observatory, all of which are
amply provided with models and apparatus. There is a fine library,
contained in a lovely old house formerly inhabited by the governor of
Maryland; a chapel; and numbers of houses for officers’ quarters. There
is also a hospital, and, on the outlaying land one of greater size,
which is used in epidemics, and for the seamen of the practice-ships,
and the marines of the guard. At large and convenient docks upon the
Severn are moored the practice ships, steamers, steam and sailing
launches, and cutters, for the use and instruction of the cadets. The
average number of these is about two hundred, and they are, as a rule,
exceedingly well-trained in battalion drill, so that a dress-parade
during the evenings of the spring and fall months, with the faultless
drill and evolutions, and the music afforded by the fine band, never
fails to attract crowds of strangers, as well as the town’s people and
officers’ families.

MARINE CORPS.

It is proper, at this point, to give some account of the United States
Marine Corps, of which many persons not familiar with naval affairs
have a very vague idea.

They are sea-soldiers, or soldiers enlisted for service either on shore
or on board ships-of-war, and who are known as _Marines_, although all
sea-going persons are really marines.

Most powers which possess navies have also marines, France being an
exception. They constitute a separate military body from the seamen and
other enlisted men of a war-ship, and are trained to fight either as
infantry or as artillerists, and especially for participation in naval
engagements. They are organized, clothed and equipped very much like
soldiers of the army, and their preliminary instruction is the same. In
fact, some of their very best service has been on shore; while their
being accustomed to the sea makes them doubly valuable for expeditions
by water. Their headquarters, barracks and depots are on shore, and
from them details are made when required for service on shipboard.
These detachments vary in size with the ship, from a dozen men under a
sergeant to a hundred under one or more commissioned officers.

The history of sea-soldiers is very ancient, dating back to at least
five centuries before the Christian Era, when there was a class of
soldiers which constituted the fighting men of a war-ship, while an
entirely different class navigated, managing the oars and sails. Some
of the most gallant acts which have distinguished our own navy have
been performed by the marines, who have served without blemish in
every quarter of the world, and in all the wars in which we have been
engaged. The marines have generally manned some of the broadside guns
whenever hard fighting was going on, and have always been relied upon
under the most desperate circumstances; nor have they failed to justify
that reliance.

[Illustration: U. S. S. TEXAS.

Battleship. Twin screw. Main battery, two 12-inch and six 6-inch breech
loading rifles. Secondary battery, twelve 6-pounder and six 1-pounder
rapid fire guns, one Hotchkiss revolving cannon and two Gatlings.
Thickness of armor 12 inches. 30 officers, 362 men.]

Our own Congress has nineteen times, by joint resolution, tendered
thanks to the marines for their gallant behavior, and some of
the greatest generals have added their tributes to those of naval
commanders. Napoleon Bonaparte, when viewing the marines of the English
ship Bellerophon, where he took refuge after his downfall, exclaimed:
“What might not be done with a hundred thousand such men?” General
Winfield Scott, when commanding in the Mexican War, said of our marines
that he “put them where the heaviest work was to be accomplished,
and had never found his confidence misplaced.” General Grant, on the
quarter-deck of the _Vandalia_, which man-of-war was taking him to
Egypt, on his voyage round the world, remarked of the marines at their
exercise, that they were “as fine soldiers as he had ever seen.”

In our own service the marine corps is as ancient as the navy. In
Revolutionary days they wore green coats with white facings, but their
uniform has from time to time become more and more assimilated with
that of the infantry of the army.

REVENUE MARINE.

Another branch of the public service connected with the sea is the
Revenue Marine, of which very little is known outside of maritime
States, although it is one of the most important and hard-working
branches.

This sea force was organized in 1790, more than a century ago, for the
protection of the revenues of the General Government from duties upon
imports. The Act of Congress provided for the building and equipping of
the revenue cutters, “to be officered and manned by one master and not
more than three mates, who should be appointed by the President, and be
deemed officers of the customs.”

This was done under the administration of Alexander Hamilton, then
Secretary of the Treasury, and one of the shining lights of our early
days as a nation. He suggested giving the officers military or naval
rank, “which,” he added, “will not only induce fit men to engage, but
attach them to their duties by a nicer sense of honor.”

The first vessels built for this service were brigs or schooners, and
they were commanded by excellent officers and sailors, who were proud
of their position. They had not only to look after the collection of
the revenue from imports, but to preserve order in ports, and had many
other onerous duties. They had to make returns of all vessels boarded,
as well as any special duties which the Secretary of the Treasury might
direct. They were to succor vessels in distress--and, to this day,
the Revenue vessels cruise on our coasts during the very worst winter
weather to succor vessels, and many a cargo, as well as many lives,
have been saved by their exertions.

Any one, even those who are not familiar with ships, can tell a revenue
vessel by the flag she carries--because, while the union is the same as
in other flags of the United States, the stripes run vertically instead
of horizontally.

Formerly the revenue cutters were almost always of schooner rig, and
generally very neat and trim, and very beautiful and picturesque
vessels, especially under sail, but at present and for many years past,
the “Cutters” are able sea-going steamers. In former days the revenue
cutters, in addition to the protection afforded to commerce, had to
attend to the placing of buoys, and the supply of lighthouses, under
the direction of Collectors of Customs of districts. But in 1852 the
present Light House Board was established--and special vessels devoted
to that service, than which there is none better in the world. The
Revenue Marine has often taken part with the Navy in operations of
various kind, such as the War of 1812; the Florida War; the Mexican
War; the Paraguay Expedition; the Civil War; the Seal Fishery patrol,
and numerous other occasions, giving the best of service cheerfully and
promptly.

As regards appointment of officers in the Revenue Marine, we may say
that the service is entirely separate from the Navy, and controlled
by the Treasury Department. This Department appoints cadets, not less
than eighteen and not more than twenty-five years of age, who may be
promoted to third lieutenants after two years’ service, and after
having passed a satisfactory examination. This takes appointments out
of the line of personal or political preference. The cadets are first
sent on a practice cruise at sea in a revenue cutter, and then trained
in practical seamanship and navigation, and during the winter study
mathematics and other things necessary to fit them for their duties.
If successful in passing as third lieutenants they have a reasonable
chance of rising to Captain. Revenue cutters, beside their ordinary
duty, are often called upon to make special cruises in search of
missing vessels, or to enforce neutrality laws when expeditions may
be fitting in our ports against neighboring and friendly governments.
Since Alaska has been acquired some of the most remarkable cruises have
been made in Arctic waters, not only for the succor of whalers, but for
the protection of the natives from smugglers who would try to introduce
poisonous spirits. Officers of the revenue service are also detailed as
inspectors and assistant inspectors of life-saving stations, in which
capacity they have done excellent service, and added much to the value
of that noble branch of our public work.

The whole of the Revenue Marine Service is in charge of a chief,
called the Chief of the Revenue Marine, in the Treasury Department,
at Washington, forming a separate bureau. This chief must be a man
of ability, for he has great responsibility, and must have legal and
scholarly attainments in order to be able to meet all the calls upon
him. In regard to nautical matters he is supposed to avail himself of
the advice of competent senior officers of the service, and also as far
as the _personnel_ of the Revenue Marine is concerned.

MARINE HOSPITAL SERVICE.

It may be of interest to many persons in the interior of our country,
who are not brought in contact with water transportation, or even with
river boats of any kind, to know what is meant by the “Marine Hospital
Service,” which has existed from our earliest days as a nation, and
yet has nothing in common with the Revenue Marine, or with the Naval
Service. The Naval Service has its own hospitals, and the Revenue
Marine make arrangements for their sick and wounded at proper places.
The Marine Hospital Service provides for all sick men who follow the
water in the merchant service, whether they are salt water or fresh
water men, whether they are on a Mississippi steamboat, or on a vessel
just arrived from a China voyage. Its authority, under the law, dates
from the year 1798, but it also provided that a tax of twenty cents a
month should be exacted from every officer and seaman for the support
of hospitals. In the following year the same provision of tax was
made for the navy, and all officers and men have paid it for nearly a
hundred years; so that the Marine Hospitals and the Naval Hospitals
have never cost the nation anything, the money for their support having
come purely from this personal tax. Every merchant sailor pays that;
and every naval person, from an admiral to a messenger boy, has twenty
cents a month deducted from his pay for hospital service.

[Illustration: U. S. S. CHICAGO.

Protected cruiser. Twin screw. Main battery, four 8-inch, eight 6-inch
and two 5-inch breech loading rifles. Secondary battery, nine 6-pounder
and four 1-pounder rapid fire guns, two Hotchkiss revolving cannons and
two Gatlings. Protected steel deck, 1¹⁄₂ inches. 33 officers, 376 men.]

The Marine Hospital Service has of late years been more serviceable
than ever, especially in the prevention of the introduction of cholera
and of yellow fever into our country.

The organization is complete and excellent. There is a supervising
Surgeon-General, who has great powers and great responsibilities, a
medical purveyor, surgeons, passed-assistant surgeons, and assistant
surgeons. These treat an immense number of cases, and not a few have
lost their lives in combating epidemics. These officers are selected by
examination and entirely removed from any politics, and are bound to go
wherever they are ordered, and obey regulations.

LIGHT HOUSES.

Another interesting and most exceedingly important institution
connected with naval affairs is the United States Light House
Establishment. From small beginnings this has grown to be one of the
most important administrative branches of our government, and one
which, we may say with pride, reflects the greatest honor upon us in
the eyes of the world at large; for a reliable and thorough system of
the kind is a blessing and a safeguard to mariners and travelers of all
nationalities.

The first light house built in the country which is now the United
States of America is said to have been that at Little Brewster Island,
in Boston Harbor, Massachusetts, about 1715. Then followed others,
all supported by the Provinces in which they were placed, of course.
There were by the year 1789 twenty-five light houses on the Atlantic
coast, ranging from Maine to Georgia. They were supported by a tax
upon vessels which used them, and the tax was paid as part of the port
dues, according to the lights the vessel must have passed in reaching
her destination. In 1789, the National Government took charge of such
matters, and the collectors of customs appointed by the President
had charge of lights, and collected the dues. The service was often
unsatisfactory, and so, in May, 1838, Congress created a Board of naval
officers to determine where lights were actually needed, and to settle
other points in the same connection. This led to increased usefulness,
and at last, in 1852, the Light House Board was created by Act of
Congress, which has usefully existed ever since, the result of their
work being a light house system equal to any.

The new Board consisted of three officers of the navy, three officers
of the engineer corps of the army, and three civilians, one of whom was
the Secretary of the Treasury, and the remaining two persons of high
scientific attainments. Such a constitution took its members out of the
pale of political appointment, and enabled them to lay out plans which
they could themselves hope to see carried into effect.

This Board divided the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, the Gulf of
Mexico, the Great Lakes, and the great western rivers into districts,
to each of which an inspector, who is an officer of the navy, and an
engineer, who is an officer of the army, is assigned. These, under
direction of the Board, keep up the light houses and lights, and are
charged with the discipline of the light keepers. They make constant
visits and report upon the condition of lights, and of the behavior
of the keepers, so that the system is as nearly perfect as it can
be made when we consider the exposed position and solitude of many
of the lights. The great subject of light ships, of whistling buoys,
of gas-lighted buoys, and other warnings to mariners, belongs to the
same subject, but would require a large book to treat them properly.
Our people at large do not appreciate the service of our light house
establishment, not only on the sea coast, but on the great rivers and
lakes, because they do not see it. If they did see it, they would see
what it has accomplished, and how commerce would be hampered without it.

It is a magnificent work, and now, in our country, the immense number
of lights, beacons, lightships, buoys, and fog-signals are kept up
entirely by the general government, without making any charge in the
way of light duties against ships of any country.

TRAINING SHIPS.

Naval Training Ships, for the education of apprentices, are to be
noticed in connection with other matters treated of in this chapter.
This was begun at least fifty years ago, when it was thought to be
proper to correct the large proportion of foreign seamen in our Navy
by training native-born boys to man our squadrons. Many boys were,
under the law then enacted, enlisted to serve between the ages of
thirteen and twenty-one, and to be brought up as naval sailors. For a
time things went very well. A large number of boys became excellent
seamen and petty officers before they arrived at twenty-one. But many
boys enlisted under the idea that the apprentices were to be made
midshipmen, and, as that did not take place, great dissatisfaction
occurred, and the system was gradually broken up.

In 1863 a renewed attempt was made at establishing a Naval Apprentice
System, and a great deal of labor of brain was spent by officers upon
it. There was success, but it was hampered very much by the fact that
all the boys put in the apprentice ships took away from the number of
men allowed by law to man cruising vessels of the Navy. Still, the
officers persevered, and there is now, at New York, and Newport, a
well established naval apprentice system, which graduates many lads of
intelligence and sufficient education to make them valuable persons on
board our modern men-of-war, when they become petty officers.

The Naval Training Ships for Apprentices must not be confounded with
the Training Ships belonging to Philadelphia and to New York and
Boston, which have been in successful operation for some years. These
vessels are loaned by the government to the cities which pay the
expense of their maintenances, except the salaries of the officers, who
are detailed from the Navy. The “School Ships,” as these are commonly
called, are sailing vessels of the old type, without their guns, so
that they are more comfortable; and every effort is made to preserve
the health of the boys who are received. These ships make--as a general
rule--two voyages in the year. One is to Europe, in summer, and one
to the West Indies in the winter. In the Philadelphia ship there are
generally about eighty or ninety boys, with a sufficient number of old
sailors to teach them how to pull and haul. Some of the graduates of
this ship, after two years’ service and study, have obtained very good
berths in merchant vessels; and are in a fair way to being masters. But
it all depends upon themselves and how much they are really worth.

[Illustration: U. S. S. OREGON.

A wrong impression has gone out about these training ships, in many
quarters, which is that boys who were bad, or unmanageable, went to
them. In old times bad boys were sent to sea to be beaten into shape,
but they do not take that kind now.

To be admitted on board an apprentice ship a lad has to be physically
sound, and to have good certificates as regards his moral character.
The great mistake persons make is in regarding these ships as penal
institutions for the reform of boys. On the contrary, the moment a
lad is convicted of theft, or of any disgraceful proceeding, he is
discharged; and the standard on board is kept high in that way. What we
have said will be sufficient to indicate the purposes of the Training
Ships.

LIFE-SAVING SERVICE.

A most interesting department of the government service connected with
nautical matters is the “Life-Saving Service of the United States,” to
give it its legal title. This admirable institution was first organized
by Act of Congress, in 1878. It is remarkable that it is the _only
existing government institution_ of the kind in the world, and our
general government is abundantly justified for its creation by the
results.

In England, and the British Islands generally, where so many wrecks
occur, owing to the large traffic and the uncertain and stormy weathers
so frequently met with, the admirable life-boat system is provided and
supported by a society, to which society all honor is due. But their
life-boats would be of little service on our coasts or lakes, where an
entirely different kind of craft is, for the most part, in use. The
British life-boat system is of very great interest, but has no place
here.

Previous to 1878 the principal systematic efforts in the direction
of succoring ship-wrecked persons along our coasts were due to the
Massachusetts Humane Society, which, as early as 1789, had caused huts
to be erected at some of the most desolate points on that coast for
the shelter of ship-wrecked persons who were fortunate enough to reach
the shore. The first life-boat station was established by this society
at Cohasset, the scene of many dreadful wrecks, in 1807. This society
still exists and does much good, although, of course, superseded at
some points by the government establishment. In other parts of the
country such societies were established, and saved many lives and much
property, but are now, for the most part, discontinued. The first step
toward a distinctively national life-saving service was taken in 1848,
when Congress appropriated $10,000 for providing surf-boats and other
appliances for rescuing life and property from shipwreck on the New
Jersey coast, where such disasters are so common, owing to the numbers
of vessels bound to the great ports, and the nature of the coast.
Buildings and apparatus were provided at eight different points along
this coast, and the system worked so well that the next year a larger
appropriation was made for the coast of Long Island, and to increase
the number upon the Jersey coast. Then the system grew very rapidly,
extending to Rhode Island, North and South Carolina, Georgia and Texas,
as well as the Great Lakes, especially Lake Michigan. It now extends to
the Pacific Coast, and even points on our great western rivers. Up to
1878 it was a branch of the Revenue Marine Service, but in that year
Congress separated it, and made it a definite establishment under its
own head.

As now organized there are twelve districts and more than 200 stations,
which are known as life-saving stations, life-boat stations, and houses
of refuge. The life-saving stations have quite nice and pretty houses,
with wide doors on the ground floor, out of which the life-boat
is rolled when about to be put in service, and in another room are
stored the life-car, wreck-gun, lines, and other apparatus. Up-stairs
there are rooms for the men of the crew, and extra cots for use in
emergencies.

At life-boat stations the houses are smaller, being made to accommodate
only the life-boat, gear and crew. The houses of refuge are found only
on the long, lonely stretches of the Florida coast, and can accommodate
25 persons. Here are stored wood, food for that number for ten days,
means of lighting a fire, and other such things, which would allow of
ship-wrecked persons who reached there refreshing themselves so as to
be able to march. These houses have also a boat-house with a galvanized
iron boat and oars.

There are regular inspectors, who are officers of the Revenue Marine,
who visit these stations regularly, and see that the men are in good
drill, can handle boat and apparatus properly, and that everything is
kept in order for instant use.

Each station is in charge of a keeper, who selects his own crew under
proper regulations. He is by law an inspector of customs, must prevent
smuggling, and take in charge any wrecked property which may come on
shore, and is responsible for everything in the station and for the
conduct of his men.

The keeper and his men are always hardy and skilled men, familiar with
the surf, and the methods of handling a boat in it. At night they
patrol the beach with lanterns and night signals, and also keep strict
watch by day, especially in bad weather. This system of patroling is a
distinctive feature of the United States Life-saving Service, and its
proved value in discovering stranded vessels causes it to be maintained
with great vigilance and the manner of its performance to be strictly
watched. Any evasion of this duty is promptly punished. When stations
are only a few miles apart, on such frequented and dangerous coasts
as those of New Jersey and Long Island, the patrolmen pass, at night,
along the beach until they meet the patrol from the next station;
then they exchange tokens to prove that they have met, and set out to
return. It is boasted by the Life-saving Service that most lives are
saved on wrecked vessels, when it is humanly possible to reach them,
either by boat or line; and it is also boasted that no life-boat man
has ever shown the “white feather” in the discharge of his duties.

No more interesting or instructive sight can be witnessed on our ocean
or lake shores than a life-saving crew at its exercise. During the
Columbian Exhibition at Chicago crowds were always attracted when
these exercises took place. Especially interesting was the throwing of
the line by means of the bomb-gun, the establishment of communication
with a supposed wreck, and the bringing safely on shore by this means
several men.

THE FLAG.

Perhaps it may be of interest to give some slight sketch of the history
of the Flag, in this connection, the flag of which we are all so proud,
and which flies over such an extent of country and has penetrated the
most remote seas. The hoisting of the “colors,” or national flag, on
board a ship-of-war is a matter of considerable ceremony, and the same
is the case when it is hauled down at sunset.

When the time for “colors” comes--which is generally at eight o’clock
in the morning--the music is called (the band paraded, if there is
one), and, as the bell strikes, the flag is run up to the gaff, or the
staff, while everyone faces toward it and raises the cap and the band
plays one of the national airs. In the evening, as the sun dips below
the horizon, the same ceremony takes place. Different-sized flags are
used according to the weather; from the “storm-flag,” hardly bigger
than a boat-ensign, to the great flag which flies on the Fourth of July
and other grand occasions, but always, when in port, a ship-of-war in
commission has the flag flying during the day. During the day, also,
every boat which leaves a man-of-war for any purpose, must show her
flag, and this is especially necessary in foreign ports, where so much
of the time of our national vessels is passed. Most persons know that
the “stars and stripes,” or “old glory,” as the soldiers used to call
it during the civil war, was not at once adopted upon the breaking out
of hostilities between England and her American colonies. The national
flag of the United States assumed the form which it now has after many
experiments, and was the subject of much thought and discussion.

The flags used by the Colonies before their separation from the mother
country would naturally be those of England, and these were mostly
borne during such times as the French and Indian wars. But it was not
always the case, for several flags, differing more or less from those
of the kingdom, were adopted by some of the Colonies at different times
previous to the Revolution which was followed by independence. But the
Colonies, as a rule, used what was called the “Union Flag,” which was
the cross of St. George and that of St. Andrew combined, and typifying
the union of England and Scotland.

When the Colonies revolted a committee was appointed by the Continental
Congress to consider the subject of a proper flag. Dr. Franklin
was the chairman of the committee, which assembled in the camp at
Cambridge, on January 1, 1776. They selected and displayed the flag
of the “United Colonies.” It was composed of seven red and six white
stripes, with the red and white crosses of St. George and St. Andrew
conjoined on a blue field in the corner, denoting the union of the
Colonies. This was the basis of our present national colors, but it was
some time before these were adopted.

In the beginning of the hostilities the Connecticut troops had
standards displaying the arms of the Colony, with the motto. The
flag displayed by General Putnam had a red field with the motto of
Connecticut: “_Qui transtulit sustinet_” (“He who transplanted us will
sustain us”), on one side; on the other, “An appeal to Heaven.” The
floating batteries at the same time had a flag with a white ground, a
tree in the middle, and the motto “Appeal to Heaven.”

Trumbull, who was both soldier and artist, in his celebrated picture of
the battle of Bunker Hill, represents our troops as displaying a flag
combined of the two last mentioned--a red flag with a pine tree on a
white field in the corner--and it is probable that just such a flag was
used in that battle.

When, in 1775, South Carolina displayed a flag at the taking of Fort
Johnson by Colonel Moultrie, it is described as one having a crescent
in the quarter of a blue field. There were various others, but they
were soon supplanted by the “Great Union Flag” we have spoken of
already.

In 1776, a flag was presented to Congress by Colonel Gadsden for the
use of the infant navy. It had a yellow field, a rattlesnake with
thirteen rattles, coiled to strike, and the motto, “Don’t tread on me.”
The device of a rattlesnake was a favorite one with the colonists at
this period, and was frequently adopted as a heading by the newspapers
of the day; being represented as cut into thirteen parts, and the
initial of one of the colonies on each, with the motto “Join or die.”
The British used to make great fun in those times of many peculiarities
of the Rebels, as they were called, and one of the jokes was directed
against the fondness of the Americans for the number thirteen, which
was suggested, of course, by the number of the Colonies. Some of the
witticisms in this connection were personal and rather vulgar, but one
was that “every well-organized rebel household has thirteen children,
all of whom expect to be generals and members of the high and mighty
Congress of the thirteen United States when they attain thirteen years;
that Mrs. Washington has a mottled tom cat (which she calls in a
complimentary way Hamilton) with thirteen yellow rings round his tail,
and that his flaunting it suggested to the Congress the adoption of the
same number of stripes for the rebel flag.”

The Province of Massachusetts adopted a flag to be worn by the cruisers
of that Colony, which was white, with a green pine tree in the middle,
and the inscription “Appeal to Heaven;” being the same as that used on
the floating batteries. The great Union flag, without the crosses, and
with a rattlesnake and “Don’t tread on me,” was also used as a naval
flag. Different corps also carried different flags, with many devices,
in the land service, but the “Great Union Flag,” which was first
unfurled on the first of January, 1776, over the new Continental army
at Cambridge, was particularly the banner of the United States.

The stars and stripes, substantially as we see them to-day, were not
adopted for the standard of the United States until some time after
the Declaration of Independence. On the 14th of June, 1777, Congress
passed a resolution, which was not made public until the following
September, that the “flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen
stripes, alternate red and white, that the union be thirteen stars,
white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” The new
constellation, which it was intended should be represented, is supposed
to be Lyra, which in ancient times was the symbol of harmony and
unity among men. The difficulty of representing a constellation on a
standard probably led to a modification of the plan, and a circle of
thirteen stars was chosen, signifying union and eternal endurance. Red
is the emblem of courage and fortitude; white, of purity; and blue, of
constancy, love, and faith.

The flag, as thus authorized, was used at the surrender of Burgoyne at
Saratoga, October, 17th, 1777. Admiral George Preble, whose history of
the flag is the greatest and most exhaustive work upon the subject,
says: “It will probably never be known who designed our union of stars,
the records of Congress being silent upon the subject, and there being
no mention or suggestion of it in any of the voluminous correspondence
or diaries of the time, public or private, which have been published.
It has been asked why the stars on our banner are five-pointed, while
those on our coins are six-pointed, and always have been so. The answer
is, that the designer of our early coins followed the English, and the
designer of our flag, the European custom. In the heraldic language of
England, the star has six points; in the heraldry of Holland, France,
and Germany, the star is five-pointed.”

[Illustration: U. S. S. CINCINNATI.

Protected cruiser. Twin screw. Main battery, ten 5-inch and one 6-inch
rapid fire guns. Secondary battery, eight 6-pounder and two 1-pounder
rapid fire guns and two Gatlings. Thickness of protective deck, 2¹⁄₂
inches on slopes, 1 inch on the flat. 20 officers, 202 men.]

But, in the same work, an account is given, which is of the highest
interest, in regard to the actual manufacture of the flag which we
know so well, and revere so greatly.

In June, 1776, almost a year before the present flag was adopted by
solemn resolution of Congress, General Washington was in Philadelphia
for about a fortnight, being called on from New York to advise with
Congress on the state of affairs just previous to the Declaration of
Independence.

At that time there lived in Philadelphia a Mrs. Ross, whose house is
still standing at what was formerly No. 89, and now 239 Arch street.
It is little changed to-day from its general appearance of more than a
century ago.

Mrs. Ross was a well-known upholsterer, and a committee, which had
been considering the important question of a flag, visited her, in
company with General Washington, as the most likely person to be able
to carry out their views, and asked her to make a flag from a certain
design of which they produced a rough drawing. At her suggestion, it is
said, this was redrawn by General Washington in pencil in Mrs. Ross’
back parlor. From this she made a specimen flag, which was afterwards
adopted by Congress. Mr. Canby, who wrote a paper about this origin
of the actual flag, which he read before the Pennsylvania Historical
Society, in 1870, was a descendant of Mrs. Ross on the mother’s side,
and at the time he wrote the paper there were three daughters of Mrs.
Ross living, and a niece, then ninety-five, who all relied for their
accounts of the transaction upon what Mrs. Ross had told them. They
said that when “Colonel George Ross and General Washington visited Mrs.
Ross and asked her to make the flag, she said: “I don’t know whether I
can, but I’ll try;” and directly suggested to the gentlemen that the
design was wrong, the stars being six-cornered and not five-cornered
(pointed), as they should be. This was altered and other changes made.”

Whether this account is correct or not has been made a matter of much
discussion by persons interested in the early history of our country.
There is one thing certain; it came from _report_ of three people,
reduced to writing, and _not_ from tradition. Mr. Canby said that he
was eleven years old when Mrs. Ross died in his father’s house, and
he well remembered her telling the story. The mother and two of the
sisters of Mr. Canby were then living and in good memory. One of his
aunts succeeded to the business, and continued making flags for the
navy-yard and arsenals, and for the mercantile marine for many years,
until, being conscientious on the subject of war, she gave up the
government business, but continued the mercantile until 1857.

It is altogether probable that General Washington, with Colonel Ross,
who was no relation of Mrs. Ross, and Robert Morris, did call upon Mrs.
Ross to make flags, for General Washington knew Mrs. Ross very well.
In fact, she made his shirt ruffles and many other things, especially
while he resided in Philadelphia as President of the United States.

The first change in the flag provided by the Act of Congress which we
have quoted was in the year 1794. Then Congress passed a resolution:
“That from and after the first day of May, Anno Domini one thousand
seven hundred and ninety-five, the flag of the United States be fifteen
stripes, alternate red and white. That the union be fifteen stars,
white in a blue field.” This was approved on January 13th, 1794.
Already new States had been formed.

The next change was in 1818; when the resolution of Congress was that:
“From and after the fourth day of July next, the flag of the United
States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and white; that
the union be twenty stars, white on a blue field; and that, on the
addition of a new State into the Union, one star be added to the union
of the flag; and that such addition shall take effect on the fourth day
of July next succeeding such admission.” The present arrangement of
the stars on the flag is well known, and the arrangement is such as to
admit of addition when a new State is admitted.

In regard to the use of flags in the navy we may say that there are no
admirals or vice-admirals at present allowed by law. Our navy now has
only rear-admirals. When the three grades existed the distinguishing
flags were of blue bunting, bearing four, three, or two stars,
according to the rank of the officer: and, in the same way, carried at
the main, fore, or mizzen.

Sometimes it happens that two or more admirals are in company, and then
the senior flies the blue flag, the next in rank the red, and the last
the white, each with the stars as described. The Secretary of the Navy,
when on aboard a vessel of the navy always flies a flag peculiar to his
office--being a blue flag with the stars--in other words, the union of
the national flag.

When the President embarks in a naval vessel the fact is denoted by
hoisting the national colors at the main, he being Commander-in-chief
of the Army and Navy.

The courtesy of the flag on board a man-of-war embraces so many points
that they would be wearisome to the ordinary reader. We may only say
that, in the case of two vessels meeting at sea, the national flag is
always displayed. If one ship is a warship and the other a merchant
vessel of another country, or of her own, and she does not respond,
the man-of-war is apt to compel her to do so, especially under any
suspicious circumstances. When a man-of-war leaves a harbor at an
earlier hour than that usual for hoisting the colors she always hoists
hers first as she proceeds seawards, and each ship lying in the port
hoists her ensign until the outgoing vessel has passed, when it is
hauled down again, to await the regular hour for hoisting it with the
honors.

In seaports, when the flag of a newly-arrived man-of-war is saluted,
that flag is always shown at the fore, of the saluting vessels at the
first gun, and promptly hauled down when the last gun of the salute is
fired.

[Illustration: U. S. S. NEWARK.

Protected steel cruiser. Twin screw. Main battery, twelve 6-inch breech
loading rifles. Secondary battery, four 6-pounder, four 3-pounder and
two 1-pounder rapid fire guns, four Hotchkiss revolving cannons and
four Gatlings. 34 officers, 350 men.]

VESSELS OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY.

-----------------+-----+--------+-------+--------+----------+
| | Dis- | | | |
| | place- | | | |
NAME | Keel| ment, | Speed,| Horse- | |
AND CLASS. |Laid.| Tons. | Knots.| power. | Cost. |
-----------------+-----+--------+-------+--------+----------+
ARMORED VESSELS.| | | | | |
_Seagoing | | | | | |
Battleships._ | | | | | |
Indiana | 1891|10,288 | 15.54 | 9,738 |$3,020,000|
Iowa | 1893|11,410 | 16 | 11,000 | 3,010,000|
Maine | 1888| 6,682 | 17.4 | 9,293 | 2,500,000|
Massachusetts | 1891|10,288 | 15 | 9,000 | 3,020,000|
Oregon | 1891|10,288 | 15 | 9,000 | 3,180,000|
Texas | 1889| 6,315 | 17 | 8,000 | 2,500,000|
Kearsarge | 1896|11,525 | 16 | 10,000 | 3,150,000|
Kentucky | 1896|11,525 | 16 | 10,000 | 3,150,000|
Alabama | ...|11,000 | 16 | ... | 3,750,000|
Illinois | ...|11,000 | 16 | ... | 3,750,000|
Wisconsin | ...|11,000 | 16 | ... | 3,750,000|
| | | | | |
_Armored | | | | | |
Cruisers._ | | | | | |
Brooklyn | 1893| 9,271 | 20 | 16,000 | 2,986,000|
New York | 1890| 8,200 | 21 | 17,401 | 2,985,000|
| | | | | |
_Ram._ | | | | | |
Katahdin | 1891| 2,155 | 17 | 4,800 | 930,000|
| | | | | |
_Dbl. Turret | | | | | |
Mons._ | | | | | |
Amphitrite | 1874| 3,990 | 12 | 1,600 | 3,178,046|
Miantonomoh | 1874| 3,990 | 10.5 | 1,426 | 3,178,046|
Monadnock | 1874| 3,990 | 14.5 | 3,000 | 3,178,046|
Monterey | 1889| 4,084 | 13.6 | 5,244 | 1,628,950|
Puritan | 1875| 6,060 | 12.4 | 3,700 | 3,178,046|
Terror | 1874|13,990 | 12 | 1,600 | 3,178,046|
| | | | | |
_Sing. Turret | | | | | |
Mons._ | | | | | |
Ajax | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 626,582|
Comanche | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 613,164|
Canonicus | 1862| ... | 6 | 340 | 622,963|
Catskill | 1862| ... | 6 | 340 | 427,766|
Jason | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 422,766|
Lehigh | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 422,766|
Mahopac | 1862| ... | 6 | 340 | 635,374|
Manhattan | 1862| ... | 6 | 340 | 628,879|
Montauk | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 423,027|
Nahant | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 413,515|
Nantucket | 1862| ... |5 to 7 | 340 | 408,091|
Passaic | 1862| ... |5 to 6 | 340 | 423.171|
Wyandotte | 1862| ... | 6 | 340 | 633,327|
| | | | | |
UNARMORED | | | | | |
STEEL VESSELS. | | | | | |
Atlanta. | 1883| 3,000 | 15.6 | 4,030 | 617,000|
Baltimore | 1887| 4,413 | 20.09 | 10,064 | 1,325,000|
Boston | 1883| 3,000 | 15.6 | 4,030 | 619,000|
Charleston | 1887| 3,730 | 18.2 | 6,666 | 1,017,500|
Chicago | 1883| 4,500 | 15.10 | 5,084 | 889,000|
Cincinnati | 1890| 3,213 | 19 | 10,000 | 1,100,000|
Columbia | 1891| 7,375 | 22.8 | 18,509 | 2,725,000|
Minneapolis | 1891| 7,375 | 23.7 | 20,362 | 2,690,000|
Newark | 1888| 4,098 | 19 | 8,869 | 1,248,000|
Olympia | 1891| 5,870 | 21.6 | 17,313 | 1,796,000|
Philadelphia | 1888| 4,324 | 19.6 | 8,815 | 1,350,000|
Raleigh | 1889| 3,213 | 19 | 10,000 | 1,100,000|
San Francisco | 1888| 4,098 | 19.5 | 9,913 | 1,428,000|
| | | | | |
_Cruisers._ | | | | | |
Detroit | 1890| 2,089 | 18.7 | 5,227 | 612,500|
Marblehead | 1890| 2,809 | 18.4 | 5,451 | 674,000|
Montgomery | 1890| 2,089 | 19.5 | 5,580 | 612,500|
| | | | | |
_Gunboats._ | | | | | |
Bennington | 1888| 1,710 | 17.5 | 3,436 | 490,000|
Castine | 1891| 1,177 | 16 | 2,199 | 318,500|
Concord | 1888| 1,710 | 16.8 | 3,405 | 490,000|
Helena | 1894| 1,392 | 13 | 1,600 | 280,000|
Machias | 1891| 1,177 | 15.4 | 2,046 | 318,000|
Nashville | 1894| 1,371 | 14 | 1,750 | 280,000|
Petrel | 1887| 892 | 11.7 | 1,095 | 247,000|
Wilmington | 1894| 1,392 | 13 | 1,600 | 280,000|
Yorktown | 1887| 1,710 | 16.14 | 3,392 | 455,000|
Annapolis | 1896| 1,000 | 12 | 800 | 230,000|
Vicksburg | 1896| 1,000 | 12 | 800 | 230,000|
Newport | 1896| 1,000 | 12 | 800 | 230,000|
Princeton | 1896| 1,000 | 12 | 800 | 230,000|
Marietta | 1896| 1,000 | 12 | 800 | 230,000|
Wheeling | 1896| 1,000 | 12 | 800 | 230,000|
| | | | | |
_Special Class._ | | | | | |
Bancroft | 1891| 839 | 14.3 | 1,213 | 250,000|
| | | | | |
_Dispatch Boat._ | | | | | |
Dolphin | 1883| 1,488 | 15.5 | 2,253 | 315,000|
| | | | | |
_Dynamite | | | | | |
Cruisers._ | | | | | |
Vesuvius | 1887| 929 | 21.4 | 3,794 | 350,000|
Torpedo Cruiser | ...| ... | ... | ... | ... |
| | | | | |
_Torpedo Boats._ | | | | | |
Cushing | 1888| 105 | 22.5 | 1,720 | 82,750|
Ericsson | 1892| 120 | 24 | 1,800 | 113,500|
Stiletto | | 31 | 18.2 | 359 | 25,000|
Foote | 1896| 142 | 24.5 | 2,000 | 97,500|
Rodger | 1896| 142 | 24.5 | 2,000 | 97,500|
Winslow | 1896| 142 | 24.5 | 2,000 | 97,500|
Porter | 1896| 130 | 27.5 | ... | 147,000|
Du Pont | 1896| 180 | 27.5 | | 147,000|
Rowan | 1896| 182 | 26 | 3,200 | 150,000|
Plunger | | | | | |
(Submarine) | 1896| 168 | 8 | 1,200 | 150,000|
Dahlgren | 1897| 146 | 30.5 | 4,200 | 194,000|
T. A. M. Craven | 1897| 146 | 30.5 | 4,200 | 194,000|
Farragut | 1897| 273 | 30 | 5,600 | 227,500|
Davies | 1897| 128 | 22.5 | 1,750 | 81,546|
Fox | 1897| 128 | 22.5 | 1,750 | 85,000|
Morris | 1897| 103 | 22.5 | 1,750 | 89,000|
Talbot | 1887| 46.5| 20 | 850 | 39,000|
Gwin | 1897| 46.5| 20 | 850 | 39,000|
MacKensie | 1897| 65 | 20 | 850 | 48,500|
McKee | 1897| 65 | 20 | 850 | 45,000|
Stringham | 1897| 340 | 30 | 7,200 | 236,000|
Goldsborough | 1897| 247.5| 30 | 7,200 | 214,500|
Bailey | 1897| 235 | 30 | 5,600 | 210,000|
| | | | | |
OLD NAVY VESSELS| | | | | |
_Old Iron | | | | | |
Vessels._ | | | | | |
Alarm | 1874| 800 | 10 | 600 | ... |
Alert | 1873| 1,020 | 10 | 365 | ... |
Monocacy | 1863| 1,370 | 11.2 | 850 | ... |
Michigan | 1844| 685 | 10.5 | 305 | ... |
Pinta | 1865| 550 | 8.5 | 190 | ... |
Ranger | 1873| 1,020 | 10 | 365 | ... |
| | | | | |
_Old Wooden | | | | | |
Vessels._ | | | | | |
Adams | 1874| 1,375 | 9.8 | 550 | ... |
Alliance | 1873| 1,375 | 9.9 | 668 | ... |
Enterprise | 1873| 1,375 | 11.4 | 790 | ... |
Essex | 1874| 1,375 | 10.4 | 505 | ... |
Hartford | 1858| 2,780 | 12 | 2,000 | ... |
Lancaster | 1858| 3,250 | 9.6 | 733 | ... |
Marion | 1871| 1,900 | 11.2 | 753 | ... |
Mohican | 1872| 1,900 | 10.6 | 613 | ... |
Thetis | ...| 1,250 | 7.5 | 490 | ... |
Yantic | 1864| 900 | 8.3 | 225 | ... |
-----------------+-----+--------+-------+--------+----------+

The above are steam vessels. In addition to the old Navy vessels
enumerated above, are the following sailing vessels: Receiving-ship
Constellation, 10 guns, built 1854; Training-ships Monongehela,
12 guns, built 1862, and Portsmouth, 15 guns, built 1843; and
School-ships Jamestown, St. Mary’s, and Saratoga.

The following-named steel, iron, and wooden steam tugs are a part of
the Naval Force: Fortune, Leyden, Nina, Rocket, Standish, Triton,
Iwana, Wahneta, Narketa, Traffic, Unadilla, and No. 5. Their
horse-power varies from 147 to 500 each.

The following old wooden ships are not fit for further sea service:
Receiving-ships Franklin, Wabash, Minnesota, Constitution,
Independance, Dale, Omaha, Pensacola, Richmond, Iroquois, and
Vermont. The St. Louis, Nipsic, and New Hampshire are wooden naval
reserve ships.

ABBREVIATIONS.--M., Monitor. 1-t, 2-t, one turret, 2 turrets; B. S.,
Battleship; C. Cruiser; R. S., Receiving-Ship; C. D., Coast Defense;
T., Training-Ship: A. C., Armored Cruiser; P. C., Protected Cruiser;
D. C., Dynamite Cruiser; N. R., Naval Reserve; D. B., Dispatch
Boat; G. B., Gunboat; B. L. H., Breech-loading Howitser; B. L. R.,
Breech-loading Rifle; T. B., Torpedo Boat; C. G. B., Composite
Gunboat; Gat., Gatling Gun; R. F. G., Rapid Fire Gun; R., Rifle when
in main battery, Ram when referring to class; H. R. C., Hotchkiss
Revolving Cannon; R. F., Rapid Fire; S. B., Smooth Bore; S. B. H.,
Smooth Bore Howitser; M. L. R., Muzzle-loading Rifle; pdr., pounder;
mm., millimetres; W. T., Whitehead Torpedo Tubes; S. T. B. Submarine
Torpedo Boat; R. F. C., Rapid Fire Cannon.

NAVY-YARDS.

1. Brooklyn Navy-Yard, Brooklyn, N. Y.

2. Charlestown Navy-Yard, Boston, Mass.

3. Gosport Navy-Yard, near Norfolk, Va.

4. Kittery Navy-Yard, opp. Portsmouth, N. H.

5. League Island Navy-Yard, 4 miles from City Hall, Philadelphia, Pa.

6. Mare Island Navy-Yard, near San Francisco, Cal.

7. Pensacola Navy-Yard, Pensacola, Fla

8. Washington City Navy-Yard, Washington, D. C.

There are naval stations at New London, Ct.; Port Royal, S. C.;
Sidney, Wash., and Key West, Fla., and a torpedo station and naval
war college at Newport, R. I.

VESSELS OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY.--_Continued._

------------+-------+---------+--------+------+-------+-------+------+
|Length | | | | | |No. of+
|on Load| | | Type | Normal| Bunker| Tor- |
| Water | Extreme | Mean | of | Coal | Capa- | pedo |
VESSELS. | Line. | Breadth.|Draught.|Screw.|Supply.| city. |Tubes.|
------------+-------+---------+--------+------+-------+-------+------+
|Ft. In.|Ft. In. |Ft. In.| | Tons | Tons | |
Alabama |368 0 | 72 0 | 23 6 | T S | 450 |1,200 | 4 |
Amphitrite |259 6 | 55 10 | 14 6 | T S | 250 | 250 | ... |
Atlanta |271 3 | 42 1 | 16 10 | S S | ... | 490 | ... |
Baltimore |327 6 | 48 7 | 19 6 | T S | 400 |1,144 | 4 |
Bancroft |188 0 | 32 0 | 11 6 | T S | 100 | 200 | 2 |
Bennington |230 0 | 36 0 | 14 0 | T S | 200 | 403 | 6 |
Boston |271 3 | 42 1 | 16 10 | S S | ... | 496 | ... |
Brooklyn |400 6 | 64 8 | 24 0 | T S | 900 |1,753 | 5 |
Castine |204 0 | 32 1 | 12 0 | T S | 125 | 192.6| 1 |
Charleston |312 0 | 46 2 | 18 7 | T S | 328 | 758 | 4 |
Chicago |325 0 | 48 2 | 19 0 | T S | ... | 832 | ... |
Cincinnati |300 0 | 42 0 | 18 0 | T S | 350 | 460 | 4 |
Columbia |412 0 | 58 2 | 22 6 | TrS | 750 |1,670 | 5 |
Concord |230 0 | 36 0 | 14 0 | T S | 200 | 401 | 6 |
Cushing |139 0 | 14 3 | 4 11 | T S | ... | 36 | 3 |
Detroit |257 0 | 37 0 | 14 7 | T S | 200 | 340 | 3 |
Dolphin |240 0 | 32 0 | 14 3 | S S | ... | 274 | ... |
Ericsson |149 0 | 15 6 | 4 9 | T S | 9 | 36 | 3 |
Illinois |368 0 | 72 0 | 23 6 | T S | 450 |1,200 | 4 |
Indiana |348 0 | 69 3 | 24 0 | T S | 400 |1,640 | 6 |
Iowa |360 0 | 72 2 | 24 0 | T S | 625 |1,780 | 6 |
Katahdin |250 9 | 43 5 | 15 0 | T S | 175 | 193 | ... |
Kearsarge |368 0 | 72 5 | 23 6 | T S | 400 |1,210 | 5 |
Kentucky |368 0 | 72 5 | 23 6 | T S | 400 |1,210 | 5 |
Machias |204 0 | 32 1 | 12 0 | T S | 125 | 192.6| 1 |
Maine |318 0 | 57 0 | 21 6 | T S | 400 | 896 | 4 |
Marblehead |257 0 | 37 0 | 14 7 | T S | 200 | 340 | 3 |
Massa- | | | | | | | |
chusetts |348 0 | 69 3 | 24 0 | T S | 400 |1,640 | 6 |
Miantonomoh |259 6 | 55 10 | 14 6 | T S | 250 | 250 | ... |
Minneapolis |412 0 | 58 2 | 22 6 | T S | 750 |1,670 | 5 |
Monadnock |259 6 | 55 10 | 14 6 | T S | 250 | 250 | ... |
Monterey |256 0 | 59 0 | 14 10 | T S | 200 | 236 | ... |
Montgomery |257 0 | 37 0 | 14 7 | T S | 200 | 340 | 3 |
Newark |310 0 | 49 2 | 18 9 | T S | 400 | 809 | 6 |
New York |380 6 | 64 10 | 23 3 | T S | 750 |1,290 | 3 |
Olympia |340 0 | 53 0 | 21 6 | T S | 400 |1,093 | 6 |
Oregon |348 0 | 69 3 | 24 0 | T S | 400 |1,640 | 6 |
Petrel |176 0 | 31 0 | 11 7 | T S | 100 | 200 | ... |
Philadelphia|327 6 | 48 7 | 19 2 | T S | 400 |1,032 | 4 |
Puritan |289 6 | 60 1 | 18 0 | T S | 100 | 410 | ... |
Raleigh |300 0 | 62 0 | 18 0 | T S | 350 | 460 | 4 |
San | | | | | | | |
Francisco |310 0 | 49 2 | 18 9 | T S | 350 | 628 | 6 |
Stiletto | 88 6 | 11 0 | 3 0 | S S | ... | ... | ... |
Terror |259 6 | 55 10 | 14 6 | T S | 250 | 250 | ... |
Texas |301 4 | 64 1 | 22 6 | T S | 500 | 850 | 4 |
Vesuvius |252 0 | 26 6 | 10 1 | T S | ... | 152 | ... |
Wisconsin |368 0 | 72 0 | 23 6 | T S | 450 |1,200 | 4 |
Yorktown |230 0 | 36 0 | 14 0 | T S | 200 | 380 | 6 |
Helena |250 9 | 40 1³⁄₈| 9 0 | T S | 100 | 279 | 1 |
Nashville |220 0 | 38 3 | 11 0 | T S | 150 | 400 | 1 |
Wilmington |250 9 | 40 1³⁄₈| 9 0 | T S | 100 | 279 | ... |
Annapolis |168 0 | 36 0 | 12 0 | S S | 100 | 238 | ... |
Vicksburg |168 0 | 36 0 | 12 0 | S S | 100 | 238 | ... |
Newport |168 0 | 36 0 | 12 0 | S S | 100 | 238 | ... |
Princeton |168 0 | 36 0 | 12 0 | S S | 100 | 238 | ... |
Wheeling |174 0 | 34 0 | 12 0 | T S | 120 | 236 | ... |
Marietta |174 0 | 34 0 | 12 0 | T S | 120 | 236 | ... |
Foote |160 6 | 16 0 | 5 0 | T S | 9 | 42 | ... |
Rodgers |160 0 | 16 0 | 5 0 | T S | 9 | 42 | ... |
Winslow |160 4 | 16 0 | 5 0 | T S | 9 | 42 | ... |
Porter |175 9 | 17 0 | 5 6 | T S | 9 | 56 | ... |
Du Pont |175 7 | 17 0 | 5 6 | T S | 9 | 46 | ... |
Rowan |170 6 | 17 0 | 5 6 | T S | 12 | 60 | ... |
Plunger | 85 0 | 11 6 |... ...| T S | ... | ... | ... |
Dahlgren |147 0 | 16 4 | 4 7 | T S | ... | 32 | ... |
T. A. M. | | | | | | | |
Craven |147 0 | 16 4 | 4 7 | T S | ... | 32 | ... |
Farragut |210 0 | 20 4 | 6 0 | T S | ... | 76 | ... |
Davis |146 0 | 15 3 | 5 4 | T S | ... | ... | ... |
Fox |146 0 | 15 3 | 5 4 | T S | ... | ... | ... |
Morris |147 3 | 15 6 | 4 6 | T S | ... | 28 | ... |
Talbot |100 0 | 12 6 | 3 6 | S S | ... | ... | ... |
Gwin |100 0 | 12 6 | 3 6 | S S | ... | ... | ... |
MacKenzie |106 6 | 12 6 | 4 3 | S S | ... | ... | ... |
McKee |106 6 | 12 6 | 4 3 | S S | ... | ... | ... |
Stringham |225 0 | 22 0 | 6 6 | T S | 35 | 120 | ... |
Goldsborough|191 8 | 20 5 | 5 0 | T S | 20 | 131 | ... |
Bailey |205 0 | 19 0 | 6 0 | T S | ... | ... | ... |

------------+-----------------------------------+----------
| | COMPLE-
| ARMOR. | MENT.
+------+--------+-------+-----+-----+-----+----
| | | |Slope| Flat| |
| | | Bar- | of | of |Offi-|
VESSELS. |Sides.|Turrets.|bettes.|Deck.|Deck.|cers.|Men.
------------+------+--------+-------+-----+-----+-----+----
| In. | In. | In. | In. | In. | |
Alabama | 16¹⁄₂| 17 | 15 |5¹⁄₂ |2³⁄₄ | 50 | 535
Amphitrite | 9 | 7.5 | 11.5 | ... |1³⁄₄ | 26 | 145
Atlanta | ... | ... | ... |1¹⁄₂ |1¹⁄₂ | 19 | 265
Baltimore | ... | ... | ... |4 |2¹⁄₂ | 36 | 350
Bancroft | ... | ... | ... | ⁵⁄₁₆| ¹⁄₄ | 10 | 120
Bennington | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ³⁄₈ | 16 | 181
Boston | ... | ... | ... |1¹⁄₂ |1¹⁄₂ | 19 | 265
Brooklyn | 3 | 5.5 | 8 |6 |3 | 40 | 501
Castine | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ⁵⁄₁₆| 11 | 143
Charleston | ... | ... | ... |3 |2 | 20 | 280
Chicago | ... | ... | ... |1¹⁄₂ |1¹⁄₂ | 33 | 376
Cincinnati | ... | ... | ... |2¹⁄₂ |1 | 20 | 292
Columbia | ... | ... | ... |7 |2¹⁄₂ | 40 | 429
Concord | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ³⁄₈ | 13 | 180
Cushing | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 3 | 20
Detroit | ... | ... | ... | ⁷⁄₁₆| ⁵⁄₁₆| 20 | 257
Dolphin | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 7 | 108
Ericsson | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 3 | 20
Illinois | 16¹⁄₂| 17 | 15 |5¹⁄₂ |2³⁄₄ | 50 | 535
Indiana | 18 | 15 |{ 17 }| ... |2³⁄₄ | 38 | 427
| | |{ 8 }| | | |
Iowa |{14 }| 15 | {15} | ... |2³⁄₄ | ... | 444
|{ 3 }| | { 6} | | | |
Katahdin | 6 | ... | ... | ... | ... | 30 | 91
Kearsarge | 15 | 17 | 15 |5 |2³⁄₄ | 40 | 480
Kentucky | 15 | 17 | 15 |5 |2³⁄₄ | 40 | 480
Machias | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ⁵⁄₁₆| 11 | 143
Maine | 12 | 8 | 12 | ... |2 | 29 | 370
Marblehead | ... | ... | ... | ⁷⁄₁₆| ⁵⁄₁₆| 20 | 254
Massa- | 18 | 15 |{ 17 }| ... |2³⁄₄ | ... | 424
chusetts | | |{ 8 }| | | |
Miantonomoh | 7 | 11.5 | ... | ... |1³⁄₄ | 13 | 136
Minneapolis | ... | ... | ... |4 |2¹⁄₂ | 40 | 456
Monadnock | 9 | 7.5 | 11.5 | ... |1³⁄₄ | 26 | 145
Monterey | 13 |{ 8 }|{ 14 }| ... |3 | 19 | 172
| |{ 7.5 }|{ 11.5}| | | |
Montgomery | ... | ... | ... | ⁷⁄₁₆| ⁵⁄₁₆| 20 | 254
Newark | ... | ... | ... |3 |2 | 37 | 350
New York | 4 | 5.5 | 10 |6 |3 | 40 | 526
Olympia | ... | ... | ... |4³⁄₄ |2 | 34 | 395
Oregon | 18 | 15 |{ 17 }| ... |2³⁄₄ | ... | 424
| | |{ 8 }| | | |
Petrel | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ⁵⁄₁₆| 10 | 122
Philadelphia| ... | ... | ... |4 |2¹⁄₂ | 34 | 350
Puritan | 14 | 8 | 14 | ... |2 | 27 | 195
Raleigh | ... | ... | ... |2¹⁄₂ |1 | 20 | 292
San | | | | | | |
Francisco | ... | ... | ... |3 |2 | 33 | 350
Stiletto | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 1 | 5
Terror | 7 | 11.5 | ... | ... |1³⁄₄ | 15 | 136
Texas | 12 | 12 | ... | ... |2 | ... | 362
Vesuvius | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₁₆| ³⁄₁₆| 6 | 64
Wisconsin | 16¹⁄₂| 17 | 15 |5¹⁄₂ |2³⁄₄ | 50 | 535
Yorktown | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ³⁄₈ | 14 | 178
Helena | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ⁵⁄₁₆| 10 | 160
Nashville | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ⁵⁄₁₆| 11 | 158
Wilmington | ... | ... | ... | ³⁄₈ | ⁵⁄₁₆| 10 | 160
Annapolis | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 11 | 135
Vicksburg | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 11 | 135
Newport | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 11 | 135
Princeton | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 11 | 135
Wheeling | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 11 | 135
Marietta | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 11 | 135
Foote | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 16
Rodgers | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 16
Winslow | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 16
Porter | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 16
Du Pont | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 16
Rowan | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 16
Plunger | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Dahlgren | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
T. A. M. | | | | | | |
Craven | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Farragut | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Davis | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Fox | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Morris | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Talbot | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Gwin | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
MacKenzie | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
McKee | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Stringham | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Goldsborough| ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...
Bailey | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ...

ABBREVIATIONS: T. S.--Twin Screw. H. C.--Horizontal Compound. I.
C.--Inclined Compound. H. T. E.--Horizontal Triple Expansion. V. T.
E.--Vertical Triple Expansion. C. O. B.--Compound Overhead Beam.
V. C.--Vertical Compound. Tr. S.--Triple Screw. V. Q. E.--Vertical
Quadruple Expansion. S. S.--Single Screw.

~=Naval Militia.=~

The Naval Militia is now organized in seventeen States, as
follows: Massachusetts, Captain J. W. Weeks; Rhode Island,
Lieutenant-Commander W. M. Little; Connecticut, Commander E.
G. Buckland; New York, Captain J. W. Miller; Pennsylvania,
Commander F. S. Brown; Maryland, Commander J. E. Emerson; North
Carolina, Lieutenant-Commander G. L. Morton; South Carolina,
Commander R. H. Pinckney; Georgia, Lieutenant F. H. Aiken;
California, Captain L. H. Turner; Illinois, Commander D. C.
Dagget; Michigan, Lieutenant-Commander Gilbert Wilkes; New Jersey,
Captain W. H. Jaques; Louisiana, Commander John S. Watters; Ohio,
Lieutenant-Commander A. U. Betts; Florida, Lieutenant-Commander J. A.
Fitzgerald and Virginia, Lieutenant C. W. Cake.

The duty of the Naval Militia in time of war will be to man the coast
and harbor defence vessels, thus leaving free the regular force to
carry on offensive operations at sea. The Naval Militia will also
operate in boat squadrons with torpedoes against any hostile fleet in
our waters.

All matters relating to Naval Militia come under the cognizance of
the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Total enlisted force of petty
officers and men, 3,871. The Navy Department transacts all its
business with the Naval Militia through the Governors of the States
and the Adjutants-General. The officer of the Navy Department at
Washington having cognizance of Naval Militia matters is Lieutenant
J. H. Gibbons, U. S. N.

THE EXPLOSION OF THE MAINE.

FEBRUARY 15, 1898.

The U. S. S. Maine, Captain Charles D. Sigsbee commanding, entered the
port of Havana, Island of Cuba, on the morning of January 25, 1898, and
was assigned an anchorage by the harbor authorities.

The occasion for the presence of an American ship in those waters was
the desire on the part of the United States to impress upon the Spanish
Government her friendly attitude towards Spain. The usual visits of
ceremony between the officers of the visiting ship and the Spanish
officials followed.

At 9.40 on Tuesday evening, February 15th, an explosion occurred in
the forward part of the Maine, so terrific in its character that it
was heard for miles. Subsequently, Captain Sigsbee, in writing of the
explosion, said: “I find it impossible to describe the sound or shock,
but the impression remains of something awe-inspiring, terrifying--of
noise, rending, vibrating, all-pervading. There is nothing in the
former experience of anyone aboard to measure the explosion by.”

The whole city was shaken by the force of the explosion, lights were
put out in the streets, and the bay was illuminated by the flames of
the burning ship.

The quarters of the crew were forward, and the destruction of life
among them was appalling; of the 354 men and officers on board the
Maine, only 101 escaped death, and many of those were severely wounded.
Lieutenant Jenkins and Engineer Merritt were among the lost.

[Illustration:

BLOWING UP OF THE U. S. S. MAINE IN HAVANA HARBOR.]

The ship went down very soon, bow first, and many of the crew were
drowned in their quarters; the officers succeeded in getting three
boats into the water, both captain and crew acting in the coolest and
bravest manner conceivable.

Immediately after the explosion, the Spanish warship Alfonso XII. and
the passenger steamers in the harbor lowered boats and all that was
possible was done to save the few victims of the explosion scattered
over the waters.

Captain Sigsbee, who commanded the Maine, telegraphed to the Secretary
of the Navy: “Maine blown up in Havana harbor 9.40, and destroyed. Many
wounded and doubtless more killed and drowned. Wounded and others on
board Spanish man-of-war and Ward Line steamer. Send lighthouse tender
from Key West for crew and few pieces of equipment still above water.
No one had clothes other than those upon him.”

The news of the disaster was spread broadcast over the length and
breadth of the land.

The Maine was a battleship of the second class, and was regarded as one
of the best ships in the new navy. She was built at the Brooklyn Navy
Yard, and was 318 feet long, 57 feet broad, 21.6 feet mean draught, and
6682 tons displacement.

She had two ten-inch vertical turrets and two military masts, and her
motive power was furnished by twin screw vertical expansion engines,
having a maximum horse-power of 9293, capable of making a speed of
17.45 knots. She carried four ten-inch and six six-inch breech-loading
guns in her main battery and seven six-pounders and eight one-pound
rapid-fire guns and four Gatlings in her secondary battery, and four
Whitehead torpedoes.

The officers of the Maine were: Captain, Charles D. Sigsbee,
commanding; Lieutenant-Commander, Richard Wainwright; Lieutenants,
George F. W. Holman, John Hood, and Carl W. Jungen; Lieutenants (junior
grade), George P. Blow, John G. Blandin, and Friend W. Jenkins; Naval
Cadets, Jonas H. Holden, Walt T. Cluverius, Amon Bronson, and David
F. Boyd, Jr.; Surgeon, Lucien G. Heneberger; Paymaster, Charles W.
Littlefield; Chief Engineer, Charles P. Howell; Passed Assistant
Engineer, Frederick C. Bowers; Assistant Engineers, John R. Morris and
Darwin R. Merritt; Naval Cadets (engineer division), Pope, Washington,
and Crenshaw; Chaplain, John P. Chidwick; First Lieutenant of Marines,
Albertus W. Catlin; Boatswain, Francis E. Larkin; Gunner, Joseph Hill;
Carpenter, George Helms.

Upon receipt of Captain Sigsbee’s telegram, Secretary Long sent orders
to the lighthouse tenders at Key West to proceed at once to Havana.
Their orders were in plain language, thus avoiding the delay that would
have arisen from the use of cipher.

Divers were also sent from the United States to Havana, and on the
Sunday following brought up Captain Sigsbee’s money, papers, and
keys. The only question which arose between the Spanish and American
authorities was in regard to the right of the former to send divers
down to investigate the condition of the ship; and that was promptly
settled by an amicable arrangement that American divers should first do
what was possible in the way of interior examination and salvage, and
that Spanish divers should then be permitted to join them in the work
outside the vessel.

The most thoroughly equipped wrecking apparatus in the country was
sent to the scene of the disaster, but, after consultation between the
expert wreckers and the naval officers on the spot, it was decided that
all that could be done was to recover as many of the guns and other
valuable appurtenances of the Maine as possible, and then leave in
Havana harbor the smoke-begrimed wreck above which floated pathetically
the ensign of the United States. There was indeed little to save.
The great ship was literally riven apart from her keel up and from
her sharp-spurred prow to a point aft of her midship section. There
was scarcely a plate in her frame that was not sprung or shivered so
severely as to preclude the hope that she could ever be made worthy
of reconstruction. Work on the wreck was continued until early in
April, when the flag which had been kept flying over the remains of the
ill-fated ship was hauled down and the U. S. S. Maine declared out of
commission.

Immediately after the receipt of Captain Sigsbee’s telegram, the
administration ordered an investigation. The order was issued by
Admiral Sicard on Febuary 19th, and appointed a Court of Inquiry
consisting of Captain William T. Sampson, commanding the Iowa; Captain
French E. Chadwick, and Lieutenant-Commander William P. Potter, with
Lieutenant-Commander Adolph Marix as judge advocate.

The court met on February 21st, on board the United States lighthouse
tender Mangrove, in the harbor of Havana. The first day was taken
up with the examination of Captain Sigsbee. The second and third
days were largely taken up in the examination of survivors of the
explosion, giving their personal experience, and in detail explaining
the precautions taken at all times, and particularly while in Havana,
against any possible accident.

At the close of the third day, Ensign W. V. N. Powelson, serving on
board the lighthouse tender Fern, lying in the harbor of Havana,
appeared and gave the first testimony about the condition of the ship
as disclosed by the divers. Mr. Powelson is a young man who graduated
from Annapolis in 1895. He had paid special attention to construction,
and in spite of his youth was detailed to look after the divers. All
that he said on the first day was that apparently the explosion had
taken place on the port side, forward of amidships, and that the vessel
had been shifted by the explosion from port to starboard; that is,
from left to right. He was asked to continue his investigation, and
the examination of survivors continued, lasting for several days, and
including witnesses who were not on board the Maine at the time. The
testimony showed that there were two explosions, the first lifting
the forward part of the vessel considerably out of the water, and the
second, which almost immediately followed, was much louder and longer.

Diver Olsen then appeared and told of what he had been able to
discover. As he was not an educated man, and was not familiar with
construction, his testimony was not entirely intelligible. An
arrangement was then made by which all the divers were to report to Mr.
Powelson, who was to summarize their findings and to testify to the
same in the presence of the divers themselves.

[Illustration: U. S. S. KATAHDIN.

Steel harbor defense ram. Twin screw. No main battery. Secondary
battery, four 6-pounder rapid fire guns. Thickness of armor 6 inches at
top, 3 inches at bottom. 7 officers, 91 men.]

The testimony of some of the survivors was thrilling in the extreme.
Such hair-breadth escapes as some of them told seemed almost impossible
of belief. The court sat only six days in Havana, and then adjourned
on February 26th, to meet in Key West on February 28th, to take the
testimony of the survivors who had been sent there. In the meantime,
Mr. Powelson was directed to continue his work and report when the
court resumed.

The testimony at Key West occupied only three days, during which time
testimony was taken of the survivors and others which confirmed the
previous statement that there were two explosions, the first of which
lifted the Maine and the second destroyed her forward part.

On March 6th the court resumed its session in the harbor of Havana, and
Ensign Powelson was enabled to give testimony which showed conclusively
that the Maine was blown up by a submarine mine, and that this resulted
in the partial explosion of two or more magazines within the ship,
which completely destroyed the forward part of the Maine.

From the 10th to the 18th day, inclusive, the court again met in the
harbor of Havana, during which time Mr. Powelson produced a great deal
of corroborative testimony. It was shown that the boilers were in fair
condition in the after-part of the ship and had not exploded. These
were the only boilers under which there was fire at the time of the
explosion. Several of the divers found a deep hole near the ship’s ram,
but whether it was caused by the submarine mine or dug out by the end
of the ram as the forward part of the vessel sunk and turned over on
its side could not be definitely ascertained. Around the vessel was
found a great deal of powder mixed with the mud. When this was brought
up and fired it burned freely. It was the testimony of experts that
if the original explosion had taken place inside the Maine all of the
powder would have been consumed, or at least all of it would have been
consumed in those magazines which were affected. As a matter of fact,
it was found that in two magazines part of the powder had exploded and
a part of it had not, showing that the explosion did not take place
until the vessel was sinking and the powder in some places was wet.
A great many powder cans, as already stated, were found containing a
little powder, and many which had burst at the seams and had allowed
the powder to dissolve in the water.

The court left the harbor of Havana on March 14th and convened March
17th, on board the battleship Iowa, off Key West, where it met for five
days, going over the testimony and preparing the report. This report
was signed March 21st and sent to Admiral Sicard on board the flagship
New York, who approved it on the 22d of March and forwarded it to the
Secretary of the Navy, who in turn handed it to the President, who
sent it with a special message to Congress on March 28th. The court
was formally dissolved on the fifth day of April. As the report was of
great importance, it is here given in full:

U. S. S. IOWA, FIRST RATE.

KEY WEST, Fla., Monday, March 21, 1898.--After full and mature
consideration of all the testimony before it, the court finds as
follows:

ONE. That the United States battleship Maine arrived in the harbor of
Havana, Cuba, on the twenty-fifth day of January, eighteen hundred
and ninety-eight, and was taken to buoy No. 4, in from five and a
half to six fathoms of water, by the regular government pilot.

The United States Consul-General at Havana had notified the
authorities at that place, the previous evening, of the intended
arrival of the Maine.

TWO. The state of discipline on board the Maine was excellent; and
all orders and regulations in regard to the care and safety of the
ship were strictly carried out.

All ammunition was stowed in accordance with prescribed instructions,
and proper care was taken whenever ammunition was handled.

Nothing was stowed in any one of the magazines or shell-rooms which
was not permitted to be stowed there.

The magazines and shell-rooms were always locked after having been
opened, and after the destruction of the Maine the keys were found
in their proper place in the captain’s cabin, everything having been
reported secure that evening at 8 P. M. The temperatures of the
magazines and shell-room were taken daily and reported. The only
magazine which had an undue amount of heat was the after ten-inch
magazine, and that did not explode at the time the Maine was
destroyed. The forward boilers were wrecked by the inner explosion.

The torpedo warheads were all stowed in the after-part of the ship
under the ward-room, and neither caused nor participated in the
destruction of the Maine.

The dry gun-cotton primers and detonators were stowed in the cabin
aft and remote from the scene of the explosion.

Waste was carefully looked after on board the Maine to obviate
danger. Special orders in regard to this had been given by the
commanding officer.

Varnishes, dryers, alcohol and other combustibles of this nature were
stowed on or above the main deck and could not have had anything to
do with the destruction of the Maine.

The medical stores were stowed aft under the ward-room and remote
from the scene of the explosion.

No dangerous stores of any kind were stored below in any of the other
store-rooms.

The coal bunkers were inspected daily. Of those bunkers adjacent to
the forward magazine and shell-rooms four were empty, namely, “B 3,”
“B 4,” “B 5,” “B 6.”

“A 5” had been in use that day, and “A 16” was full of new river
coal. This coal had been carefully inspected before receiving it on
board. The bunker in which it was stowed was accessible on three
sides at all times, and the fourth side at this time, on account of
bunkers “B 4” and “B 6” being empty. This bunker, “A 16,” had been
inspected Monday by the engineer and officer on duty.

The fire-alarms in the bunkers were in working order, and there had
never been a case of spontaneous combustion of coal on board the
Maine.

The two after boilers of the ship were in use at the time of the
disaster, but for auxiliary purposes only, with a comparatively
low pressure of steam and being tended by a reliable watch. These
boilers could not have caused the explosion of the ship. The four
forward boilers have since been found by the divers and are in a fair
condition.

On the night of the destruction of the Maine everything had been
reported secure for the night at 8 P. M., by reliable persons,
through the proper authorities, to the commanding officer. At the
time the Maine was destroyed the ship was quiet and, therefore, least
liable to accident caused by movements from those on board.

EXPLOSIONS.

THREE. The destruction of the Maine occurred at 9.40 P. M., on the
15th day of February, eighteen hundred and ninety-eight, in the
harbor of Havana, Cuba, she being at the time moored to the same buoy
to which she had been taken upon her arrival.

There were two explosions, of a distinctly different character, with
a very short, but distinct, interval between them, and the forward
part of the ship was lifted to a marked degree at the time of the
first explosion.

The first explosion was more in the nature of a report, like that of
a gun; while the second explosion was more open, prolonged and of
greater volume. This second explosion was, in the opinion of the
court, caused by the partial explosion of two or more of the forward
magazines of the Maine.

CONDITION OF THE WRECK.

FOUR. The evidence bearing upon this, being principally obtained
from divers, did not enable the court to form a definite conclusion
as to the condition of the wreck, although it was established that
the after-part of the ship was practically intact and sank in that
condition a very few minutes after the destruction of the forward
part.

The following facts in regard to the forward part of the ship are,
however, established by the testimony:

That portion of the port side of the protective deck which extends
from about frame 30 to about frame 41 was blown up aft and over to
port. The main deck, from about frame 30 to about frame 41, was blown
up aft and slightly over to starboard, folding the forward part of
the middle superstructure over and on top of the after-part.

This was, in the opinion of the court, caused by the partial
explosion of two or more of the forward magazines of the Maine.

FIVE. At frame 17 the outer shell of the ship, from a point eleven
and one-half feet from the middle line of the ship and six feet above
the keel, when in its normal position, has been forced up so as to be
now about four feet above the surface of the water; therefore about
thirty-four feet above where it would be had the ship sunk uninjured.
The outside bottom plating is bent into a reversed V-shape, the wing
of which, about fifteen feet broad and thirty-two feet in length
(from frame 17 to frame 25), is doubled back upon itself against the
continuation of the same plating extending forward.

At frame 18 the vertical keel is broken in two, and the flat keel
bent into an angle similar to the angle formed by the outside bottom
plating. This break is now about six feet below the surface of the
water, and about thirty feet above its normal position.

In the opinion of the court, this effect could have been produced
only by the explosion of a mine situated under the bottom of the ship
at about frame 18, and somewhat on the port side of the ship.

SIX. The court finds that the loss of the Maine, on the occasion
named, was not in any respect due to fault or negligence on the part
of any of the officers or members of the crew of said vessel.

SEVEN. In the opinion of the court, the Maine was destroyed by the
explosion of a submarine mine, which caused the partial explosion of
two or more of her forward magazines.

EIGHT. The court has been unable to obtain evidence fixing the
responsibility for the destruction of the Maine upon any person or
persons.

W. T. SAMPSON, Captain, U. S. N.,
President.

A. MARIX, Lieutenant-Commander, U. S. N.,
Judge Advocate.

The court, having finished the inquiry it was ordered to make,
adjourned at 11 A. M., to wait the action of the convening authority.

W. T. SAMPSON, Captain, U. S. N.,
President.

A. MARIX, Lieutenant-Commander, U. S. N.,
Judge Advocate.

U. S. Flagship New York,
March 22, 1898.
Off Key West, Florida.

The proceedings and findings of the Court of Inquiry in the above
case are approved.

M. SICARD,

Rear Admiral, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Naval Force on
the North Atlantic Station.

This in brief is the story of how the causes of the disaster were
reached. Too much credit cannot be given to young Ensign Powelson for
his intelligence and energy in proving to a mathematical demonstration
that the Maine was blown up by a submarine mine.

The Spanish officials in Cuba made a perfunctory investigation.
Altogether, their divers were down below about five hours, during
which time they made a most cursory examination. This court then
reported that the Maine had been blown up as the result of an interior
explosion, one of the principal reasons for this being that no dead
fish were found in the harbor afterwards. Our own experts testified
that an explosion underneath the water would not necessarily kill fish,
nor would it throw up a great volume of water, as the Spaniards claim.

When the news of the terrible calamity reached the United States,
public feeling reached the highest pitch of excitement. Rumors of
all kinds were in the air. Enormous editions of the great journals
were printed, and the one topic of conversation was the cause of the
disaster and the effect of the occurrence upon our relations with
Spain. Hourly bulletins were displayed at the newspaper offices.

The provocation to excitement caused by the appalling disaster was
great, but the country bore the news with a calmness and steadiness
which indicated its inherent strength, and greatly impressed foreign
observers. Great credit was given to Captain Sigsbee, who, in that
terrible moment when, in a foreign port, surrounded by what must be
regarded as a hostile population, his ship sunk under him as the
result of a mysterious and deadly blow, showed not only intrepidity,
but perfect self-possession. His quiet, dignified, self-restrained
dispatch, with its calm statement that any judgment upon the cause
of the disaster must be postponed, gave a fine example, which was
instantly responded to by the Government and the nation.

Most hearty were the words of praise for Chaplain Chidwick of the
Maine, who, day after day, worked incessantly among the ghastly
spectacles as the dead were brought to shore, identifying the bodies,
performing short religious rites over each, making records of all
clues to identity, and in the intervals consoling the wounded at the
hospitals.

As time wore on, each succeeding day bringing its rumors of retaliation
and intervention in Cuban affairs, and in the midst of war preparations
on an unprecedented scale, which were being carried on by the War
and Navy Departments, President McKinley and his advisers, and both
branches of Congress, acted as strong men act under great blows and
great provocation. There was no hasty denunciation. The spirit of the
brave men at Havana and of the heads of the Government at Washington
was fully shared by the people at large. The United States had a
President in whom they trusted.

[Illustration: ADMIRAL DEWEY AND HIS FLAGSHIP OLYMPIA.]

DEWEY’S ACTION AT MANILA.

MAY 1ST, 1898.

A few months prior to this action, one would have been thought beside
himself if he had predicted that the first serious encounter between
Spain and the United States would take place at the very antipodes--in
the Philippine Islands. And this is what did occur, and with perfect
success on the part of the American Squadron, the after events in that
region having nothing to do with the history of the naval engagement of
the First of May.

Commodore Dewey was ordered to “capture or destroy” the Spanish
men-of-war in the East, and this he did most effectually; but before
giving any relation of his engagement, it would perhaps be well to give
some account of the Island in which it occurred.

On this side of the globe, we are little given to considering the
great extent of the Philippine group, the total area of which is
about 120,000 square miles, and Luzon alone is three times as large
as Cuba. The natives of these islands are of very diverse origin.
Wild tribes, some of them ferocious, still inhabit the mountains of
the interior--some of which are active volcanoes. Among them are the
Negritos--black dwarfs, and Malay tribes much akin to the Dyaks of
Borneo. But the whole may be generally divided into Tagalos of Luzon,
and the Bisayans, inhabiting the great chain to the South. Then there
are a very large number of Chinese--who have great influence from their
wealth and commercial ability, and Mestizos of Spanish and Chinese
origin, numbering two or three hundred thousand in Luzon alone. The
whole population is about six or seven millions.

The Philippines were discovered by Magellan in 1520, and, after
repeated expeditions, several of which proved most disastrous, were
finally annexed to the Spanish dominions, and were called after
Philip the Second. They were, at that time, looked upon as a field of
missionary, rather than commercial enterprise, and it was publicly
given out that this was to be an atonement, if possible, for unheard of
cruelties practiced by the Spaniards in America, and which had, in a
very few years, wiped off the earth the tribes which inhabited Cuba on
its discovery.

On this account the religious orders have had great influence in the
establishments and institutions of the colony, from the very first. To
them a great part of the cultivated land belongs, and monks, priests
and friars are seen everywhere. In 1762 Manila was taken by a British
fleet, and held for some time, but eventually restored. With the loss
of her great possessions on the continent of America--North and South,
the Philippines have been of increasing importance to Spain; as from
them she draws a large portion of her revenue. The weather is always
hot in these islands, and cholera frequently makes itself felt. There
are also earthquakes, some of which are very destructive. They occur
more frequently upon Luzon than upon the more southern islands. The
city of Manila lies near a bay of the same name which opens westward
into the China Sea, 14.30 S. 121 East Longitude. The city proper is in
the shape of the segment of a circle, on one side of the River Pasig.
The old city is walled, in the style of three hundred years ago, and
above the walls appear the roofs and towers of churches and monasteries
and nunneries, quite in the mediæval style. An American could hardly be
landed in a more thoroughly foreign scene than that afforded by Manila,
with its old fortified towns on one hand and the Binondo suburb on the
other.

On the other side of the Pasig, which forms a broad canal for
mercantile purposes, but which cannot be approached by vessels of any
great draft, is the Binondo, a suburb where most of the foreigners
live, especially those in business. This suburb is much more populous
than the city proper. The Pasig has many smaller branches by which
it enters the bay, on which are placed the houses of the natives or
Tagalos, very generally built on piles, over the water, or partly so,
in the manner that experience has taught the whole Eastern people to be
the best for them.

In these branches of the Pasig are to be seen, in the early morning
especially, men, women and children bathing and washing their long,
jet-black hair with a bark, which has the effect of soap. They are
a very clean people, and their cotton and piña clothing is always
beautifully neat.

It was not until 1810 that foreigners had a right to reside and trade
in Manila or in the other Islands. The Spaniards always carried on a
most lucrative trade, however, in sugar, tobacco, indigo, the fiber
known as Manila hemp, gold dust, birds-nest, coffee, sapan-wood, hats,
mats, hides, cotton and many other things. The beautiful stuff called
piña, from the fiber of the pineapple, has no equal in the world as a
tissue. The bay of Manila is very large, but very shoal in some parts,
so vessels of draft lie some two miles from the mouth of the Pasig. The
entrance of the Bay is open to the westward, or the China Sea. Almost
in the middle of the entrance, rather to the north, is Corregidor
Island, the head-quarters for the coast guard, and with batteries,
lately of some power, but formerly merely meant to bring to merchant
vessels.

When the bay begins to open out, Cavite is seen to the right, a town
of respectable size, sought after by many in Manila on account of its
comparative healthfulness, on a sort of peninsula, jetting into the
Bay, and the seat of all naval activity of the Spanish East Indies,
for it has an arsenal and a small dock, besides a marine railway. In a
military point of view it is much more important than Manila itself.

As for the engagement at Manila, we may first say that never in
the history of naval battles, was a whole squadron more completely
destroyed.

Even at the battle of the Nile, where the French ships were moored in
line, two ships got away. At the Manila fight the American vessels,
though fighting in foreign waters which were shoal, and which were
particularly fitted for torpedo work, had a certain advantage over the
Spanish forces for several reasons:

1st. The Spanish were at anchor (under the protection of the Cavité
batteries, to be sure,) but they would have been much more effective
under way. In other words, they were surprised. There were many heavy
guns at Corregidor, which should have disputed the passage, and should
have warned the people of Cavité of the approach of the enemy.

[Illustration: MANILA BAY, THE SCENE OF ADMIRAL DEWEY’S VICTORY.]

2d. They surprised the Spanish squadron, the commander of which
probably supposed that they would not come in without some preliminary
reconnoitering. Although there were heavy guns on Corregidor, they ran
into the bay in the night, without regard to torpedoes, and appeared at
daylight in front of Cavité.

3d. When the engagement began they shot straight and true, in
consequence of long drill, and every shot told somewhere, while those
of the Spanish ships and batteries seem to have been very wild.

The history of the engagement is rendered more curious by the fact that
Dewey’s squadron retired for a time, after partial destruction had been
effected, to the other side of the bay, for the purpose of giving his
men breakfast, as they had been at quarters for twelve hours or more.
Although he does not say so in his report, it was also probable that he
wished to give the opposing force an opportunity to realize that they
were beaten and should surrender. As they did not do so he resumed the
engagement and finished the matter--destroying the rest of the vessels
and compelling the surrender of Cavité.

That evening he sent the following dispatch:

MANILA, May 1st.

“The squadron arrived at Manila at daybreak this morning, immediately
engaged the enemy and destroyed the following vessels: Reina
Christina, Castilla, Don Antonio de Ulloa, Isla de Luzon, Isla de
Cuba, General Lezo, Marques de Duero, El Cano, Velasco, Transport
Isla de Mindinao and another vessel, and water battery at Cavite.
Squadron is uninjured. Only few men slightly wounded.”

GEO. DEWEY.

To return to the details of the action at Manila. On the 25th of
April, 1898, Congress declared that a state of war existed. The
Spanish Minister, Polo y Bernabe, had demanded his passport on 20th
in consequence of the Cuban Intervention Resolution by Congress. An
ultimatum, embracing the provisions of the Intervention Resolutions,
was forwarded to Madrid on the same day. The next day Spain gave Mr.
Woodford his passport, thus severing all diplomatic relations between
the two governments.

When Congress declared a state of war, on April 25th, Commodore Geo.
Dewey, in command of our China squadron, was warned by cable of the
state of affairs, and was also ordered to capture or destroy the
Spanish squadron at the Philippines. The term “capture or destroy” may
seem a little strange to persons not conversant with naval history,
but those very words have been used in instructions to naval officers
since, at least, the year 1600.

Fortunately, these orders found the right man in the right place,
for Dewey was a man of experience in the civil war (in which he had,
although very young, acted a conspicuous part,) and had afterwards
served in various places of trust, as well as in command at sea.

By cabled authority he was enabled to buy, in Hong Kong, (where he
was then lying with the squadron under his command,) the Nanshan and
the Zafiro, two English merchant steamers of considerable size, with
the understanding that they should be cleared of their cargos, and
delivered to him within twenty-four hours. They were then laden with
stores and coal to accompany the squadron; and so energetic were the
measures that they caused the admiration of all at Hong Kong; and, when
the proclamation of neutrality made it necessary for Dewey to leave
the English port, he was enabled to withdraw, in good condition, to
Mirs Bay, about twenty miles to the north of Hong Kong, to complete his
preparations. China had not yet declared neutrality, and, in fact, did
not do so until after Dewey had left Mirs Bay.

Dewey would have had no port of refuge nearer than San Francisco, if he
had not captured one himself upon leaving China.

Timing his route perfectly, and steaming at the most economical rate,
he arrived near the entrance of Manila Bay on the night of April 30th.
With him, in addition to the Olympia, his flag-ship, a protected
cruiser, first rate, were the Baltimore, the Boston and the Raleigh,
all three protected cruisers of the second rate; the Concord, third
rate and the Petrel, fourth rate. In addition he had the McCulloch,
a revenue vessel and the two store ships; but these did not take any
active part in the engagement, for the store ships were unarmed and the
revenue vessel was unprotected.

Before daylight on Sunday, May 1st, the Olympia led the squadron
through the entrance of Manila Bay without being perceived from
Corregidor Island and from the batteries there until they were nearly
past, when a few inefficient shots were fired.

[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF MANILA, MAY 1, 1898.--THE AMERICAN FLEET.]

[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF MANILA, MAY 1, 1898.--THE SPANISH FLEET.]

Steaming straight for the little promontory of Cavité, under the
protection of the batteries of which the Spanish squadron was lying,
he at once opened fire, as has already been said, and with the result
that, in the course of the morning, he destroyed the Reina Christina, a
cruiser of 3000 tons, mounting nineteen Hontoria guns, from six to four
inches in calibre, two machine guns and five torpedo tubes; Castilla,
2350 tons, ten Krupp guns and four revolving cannon, with three
torpedo tubes; Don Antonio de Ulloa, 1152 tons, eight Hontoria
guns, one machine gun and two torpedo tubes; Isla de Cuba, 1040 tons,
twelve guns and three torpedo tubes; Marques del Duero, gunboat, 500
tons, three guns and one torpedo tube; El Cano, gunboat, 525 tons,
three guns, three machine guns and one torpedo tube; Velasco, cruiser,
1139 tons, five guns and two machine guns; and the Isla de Mindinao, an
armed transport of 4195 tons.

There were several other small gun boats, and one which came into
the harbor some days after the battle and was taken. The batteries
at Cavité were silenced at the same time that the force afloat was
destroyed.

Our loss was limited to eight wounded by an explosion on board the
Baltimore, while Commodore Dewey reported the Spanish loss as not
fully known, but certainly one hundred and fifty killed, including the
captain of the Reina Christina. After Cavité was possessed he reported
two hundred and fifty sick and wounded within his lines.

Before the battle had been long going on the Reina Christina, the
flag-ship of Admiral Montijo was struck by a shell which set her on
fire, forward. As they were soon compelled by the flames to abandon
her, the Admiral transferred his flag to the Isla de Cuba, and soon
after this time the Don Antonio de Ulloa burst into flames. The Spanish
stuck well to their guns, but seemed to lack practice, as their aim was
for the most part bad, and their shot either fell short or went clean
over the American vessels. The guns on shore, at Cavité, were also
badly served, and did no harm to the assailants, although the Spaniards
fought with great courage to the last. When these were silenced a small
force was landed from the Petrel to occupy the place, and the medical
officers landed to assist the Spanish wounded.

On Monday, the 2d of May, the American squadron went up opposite Manila
and anchored. Of course it was impossible for Commodore Dewey to occupy
a place extending over so much ground without a land force, but he held
the city completely under his guns.

The news of the action was received with great joy all over our
country, and on the day the news was received the Secretary of the Navy
sent the following message, along with a confidential despatch to the
Commander in Chief of the Asiatic Squadron:

WASHINGTON, May 7th.
DEWEY, Manila:--

“The President, in the name of the American people, thanks you and
your officers and men for your splendid achievement and overwhelming
victory. In recognition he has appointed you an Acting Admiral, and
will recommend a vote of thanks to you by Congress.”

LONG.

The thanks of Congress were promptly voted, with a sword for Commodore
Dewey, and a medal for each officer and man who took part in the
engagement. Congress also increased the number of Rear Admirals from
six to seven, so that the president might appoint Dewey a Rear Admiral,
which was done at once, and the appointment confirmed by the Senate.

In considering this action it must be remembered that, although Dewey’s
vessels were more powerful than those of the Spanish Navy, he had the
disadvantage of advancing into strange waters, where shoals existed,
and where, for all he knew, torpedoes and mines were laid. In fact two
of the latter were exploded in front of the squadron, but so hurriedly
as to do no harm. He had also the shore batteries to contend against,
which made the opposing weight of metal more than equal to his. “The
Spanish admiral” says a contemporary journal, “though he must have been
aware that the American squadron was somewhere in the vicinity, could
not bring himself to believe that the American commodore would have the
audacity to steam into a mined harbor in the night time, with forts on
both sides, and the Spanish squadron ready to receive him. But Dewey
took the chances, and his being beforehand was half the victory. Many
men, equally as brave in action, would have delayed to reconnoitre, and
thereby have given time for the enemy to make additional preparations
to receive him.

In consequence of Dewey’s disregard of possible danger, he found the
Spanish ships in a cramped position where they could best be attacked.

There is also another thing to be noticed about the engagement at
Manila Bay, and that is in regard to torpedo boats. It certainly seems
that they are not the danger they are supposed to be, if used in
daylight. Two of the Spanish torpedo boats from Cavite were directed
against the Olympia, and were seen as soon as they started. They
escaped several large projectiles directed at them by the great guns
of the flag-ship, but they were easily destroyed when the six-pounder
rapid firers got trained upon them. In daylight the torpedo boat is no
longer to be feared. What a night attack will do, under the glare of
the search lights, is more uncertain. For harbor defense torpedo boats
may be very useful, but they are too wearing, on both officers and men,
for any prolonged sea service.

Dewey’s action has taught us several things, for, except the
Japan-China war, there had been no fighting with the new ships, and
Dewey’s victory was a glorious one in its conduct and its results. It
has also been useful in teaching the nations what they did not know
before, and in impressing more strongly what they had some apprehension
of. It showed that originality and dash, after careful planning and
adequate preparation, will generally succeed. With several fortified
positions on shore the advantage should have certainly been with the
Spanish forces, but in spite of the great risk that every officer and
every man must have known was being taken, “there was not a faint heart
in all that squadron, but an enthusiasm and esprit du corps that could
not but win with such a leader.”

As far as a naval action went, that at Manila was a “clean cut” thing.
Nothing can take away from the small, well-drilled, well-manned and
well-officered East Indian Squadron the credit they have so thoroughly
well earned.

Rear Admiral Dewey was born in Montpelier, Vt., in 1838. Dr. Julius
Y. Dewey, the father of the admiral, was a cultured gentleman of the
old school, honored for his stalwart integrity and stern force of
character. Admiral Dewey’s mother was celebrated throughout Vermont,
her native state, for remarkable beauty of person and grace of manner.

The handsome colonial mansion in Montpelier was long a center of New
England hospitality, and the Deweys were paramount among the first
families of Vermont.

When Dewey was fourteen years old, a desire for a sea-faring life took
possession of him, but his father did not take kindly to the thought
of his son’s becoming a sailor; so a compromise was effected, and
young Dewey left the Montpelier public school and entered the Norwich
University at Northfield, Vt. This being a military school the youthful
enthusiasm of the boy was temporarily appeased by musket practice and
drill; but after two years had passed, Dr. Dewey decided that if his
son must follow the sea, he should do so in a manner consistent with
the Dewey stock.

An appointment to the Naval Academy placed the future Admiral at
Annapolis in 1858. Upon his graduation, in 1858, he cruised for a few
years as midshipman on the steam frigate Swatara in the Mediterranean
and then returned to Montpelier.

On April 19, 1861, Dewey was commissioned Lieutenant, and for two years
served on the steam sloop Mississippi, taking part in the action of the
West Gulf Squadron. The Mississippi grounded, and was riddled by the
shore batteries at Port Hudson. The officers and men were landed on
the opposite side by boats; Captain Smith and Lieutenant Dewey being
the last to leave the ship. In 1863 the young Lieutenant was in the
thick of the fight with the gunboats that met the Confederates below
Donaldsonville, and subsequently served on the steam gunboat Agawam,
Captain Rhind, of the North Atlantic Squadron, and participated in two
attacks on Fort Fisher in 1864-1865.

Dewey was commissioned Lieutenant Commander March 3, 1865, and a year
later became executive officer of the famous Kearsarge. He also served
on the frigate Colorado, flagship of the European Squadron.

On returning to the United States in 1868, he was detailed for duty at
Annapolis, remaining for two years.

Dewey received his first command--the Narragansett--in 1870, and was
engaged in special service till 1875, two years of which he had charge
of the Pacific Survey. Meantime he became a Commander.

Commander Dewey became Light House Inspector in 1876, and was Secretary
of the Light House Board from 1877 to 1882, when he was assigned to
the command of the Juniata, of the Asiatic Squadron. In 1884 he was
promoted to be Captain, and took command of the Dolphin, one of the
first craft of the new Navy, and afterwards of the Pensacola, flagship
of the European Squadron.

In 1888 Captain Dewey served as Chief of the Bureau of Equipment and
Recruiting, with rank of Commodore. He was commissioned Commodore
February 28, 1896. From 1893 to 1895 Commodore Dewey was a member
of the Light House Board. In 1896 and 1897, he was President of the
Inspection and Survey Board. On November 30, 1897, he was assigned to
the command, of the Asiatic Squadron, and assumed his duties January 3,
1898.

In recognition of his splendid achievement at Manila, Commodore Dewey
was appointed a Rear Admiral in May, 1898.

Admiral Dewey married the daughter of the celebrated Governor Goodwin,
War Governor of New Hampshire--a fighter of the old school. Mrs. Dewey
did not long survive the birth of her only son, George Goodwin Dewey.

Admiral Dewey made his home in Washington after his wife’s death. He
was fond of horseback exercise, being never without a thoroughbred
animal, and he treated them with a considerate kindness that was
characteristic of the man.

Admiral Dewey was an early riser, and spent most of his time in the
public service. He was temperate to the degree of abstemiousness. He
was Life President of the Metropolitan Club, of Washington, member of
the University Club, of New York, and for some time a member of the
Somerset Club, of Boston. During his earlier residence in Washington,
he was a member of the Maryland Hunting Club, but later his active
public service prevented him indulging his taste for gunning.

Admiral Dewey’s son said of him: “Father has always been an extremely
active man. He has been a lifelong student of everything connected with
the sea. He is a constant reader, but in his studies he seldom goes
outside of nautical science, or some collateral branch, such as Naval
History. He made a study of harbors, too, and is a thorough geographer.
I attribute his success at Manila in part to his knowledge of the
harbor. He undoubtedly knew just what he was doing and where he was
going when he made that midnight dash which seems to be so amazing to
people who don’t know him. He knows how to navigate; he never carried a
pilot all the time he was captain. He did his own navigating.

“Then, too, father had every confidence in his men, and the feeling
was reciprocal, which was another strong element that contributed to
his success. He knew what they could do. The cardinal principle of my
father has been: ‘Whatever is worth doing is worth doing well.’”

This was the keynote of the life of George Dewey, whose name in a day
was placed with those of John Paul Jones, Decatur, Farragut, and others
who have shone in Naval History.

Transcriber’s Notes

Except as described under Changes below, this e-text uses the
language used in the source document. Inconsistent spelling,
capitalisation, spacing and hyphenation, unusual, obsolete and
archaic language, etc. have been retained, also in proper,
geographical and ships’ names. Accents have not been added or
corrected. Differences in wording between the Lists of Illustrations
and the captions in the text have not been rectified.

Chapter numbering: in the first book chapters are numbered I through
XV (which has been corrected to XIV) in the Table of Contents, and
I through XIV in the text. The remainder of the chapters (including
those in the second book) are not numbered. This oddity has been
retained in this e-text.

Page numbering: this e-text uses prefixes I and II in the page numbers
for the first and second book.

Page I-203: But they ‘(the French)’ having covered ...: as printed
in the source document; possibly an error for But they” (the French)
“having covered ....

Page I-237, ... than deserving gentlemen sent out by the Admiralty.”:
either the closing quote mark is redundant, or the opening quote mark
is missing.

Page I-358, “Villeneuve, like others, ...: the closing quote mark is
missing.

Page II-62, “It was also asserted that the Guerrière’s powder was
bad; ...: the closing quote mark is missing.

Page II-251, “The Richmond waved to me ...: the closing quote mark is
missing.

Page II-397, Abbreviations: the abbreviations referring to the
engines do not occur in the table(s).

Page II-429, ... “though he must have been aware ...: the closing
quote mark is missing.

Changes

Illustrations have been moved out of text paragraphs.

Some obvious minor typographical and punctuation errors have been
corrected silently.

Soleil Royale has been corrected to Soleil Royal throughtout the book.

Page I-VI: ... the Carthaginians at Myloe ... has been changed to ...
the Carthaginians at Mylœ ... as in the text.

Page I-XI: XV. DE GRASSE AND RODNEY. A. D. 1782 has been changed to
XIV. DE GRASSE AND RODNEY. A. D. 1782.

Page I-XV: Disputes over Corea has been changed to Disputes over
Korea as in text.

Page I-XVII: page number 226 has been changed to 195 (Le Soleil
Royal); entry 21a DUTCH MAN-OF-WAR, 17TH CENTURY. inserted.

Page I-72: ... too unwieldly to be brought up again has been changed
to ... too unwieldy to be brought up again.

Page I-265: ... the Genereux and Timoléon ... has been changed to ...
the Généreux and Timoléon ... as elsewhere.

Page I-270: a superfluous page reference has been deleted from
caption NELSON WOUNDED AT TENERIFFE.

Page I-353: closing quote mark has been added after All is mine,
right or wrong.

Page I-355: closing quote mark has been inserted after ... to
continue them there until the business is decided), ....

Page I-393: Opening quote mark has been inserted before When once he
had explained his system ....

Page I-463: ... but when the inflexible and the Téméraire ... has
been changed to ... but when the ... Inflexible and the Téméraire ....

Page II-XI, List of illustrations: entries 18 and 19 have been
inserted.

Page II-XI, List of Illustrations: items 31 (American Fleet) and 32
(Manila Bay Map) were interchanged according to their position in the
book.

Page II-62: closing quote mark has been inserted after The Guerrière,
moreover, was out-manœuvred.

Page II-227: closing quote mark has been inserted after ... your
thundering bad navigation.

Page II-235: closing quote mark has been inserted after D. G. F.

Page II-270: opening quote mark inserted before Completely exhausted,
I managed to reach the shore, ....

Page II-344: The lastest completed battle-ships ... has been changed
to The latest completed battle-ships ....

Page II-388: closing quote mark has been inserted after This was
altered and other changes made.

Page II-395, table row Foote, column Officers: 44 has been changed to
4.

Page II-393-397: the pages have been re-arranged to form complete
tables; the page numbering as used in the book has been preserved.
Page 394: decimal commas in the column Speed have been replaced with
decimal points for consistency with the remainder of the table. The
data have been aligned more consistently for better readability.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Naval battles of the world : Great and decisive contests on the sea" ***

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