Booty: Heroic Anniversary

February 1, 1780: David Porter is born in Boston, Massachusets. From an illustrious seafaring family - his father, also David Porter, served in the Continental Navy and famously managed to escape the hellish British prison hulk Jersey - Porter would go on to be one of the most celebrated and controversial commanders in the U.S. Navy. He is certainly at the top of my list when it comes to examples of true nautical heroes.

In his honor, here is a portion of President Madison's speech to Congress circa 1814 in which he voices his opinion of Porter's service aboard the frigate USS Essex during the War of 1812 and it's unfortunate loss to the British:

On the ocean... a second frigate has fallen into the hands of the enemy*; but the loss is hidden in the blaze of heroism with which she was defended. Captain Porter... whose previous career had been distinguished by daring enterprise, and by the fertility of genius, maintained a sanguinary contest against two ships, one of them superior to his own... until humanity tore down the colors, which valor had nailed to the mast. This officer and his comrades have added much to the rising glory of the American flag; and have merited all the effusions of gratitude, which their country is ever ready to bestow on the champions of its rights, and its safety.

* The other frigate Madison refers to was USS Chesapeake, lost in battle with HMS Shannon.

For a capable discussion of Porter's cruise aboard Essex, see this post at Historynet.

Header: David Porter USN by John Trumbull via Naval History Center

Tools of the Trade: The Weather Gauge

The idea of today's tool will be very familiar not only to the Brethren but to readers of nautical fiction. Having the weather gauge seems an all important point in winning a sea battle. Explaining why this might be is, to my mind, more difficult than achieving it. Readers of O'Brian will recall Dr. Maturin puzzling over the finer points of this strategic maneuver on more than on occasion. The question even came up in the movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World and found poor Killick insisting that Jack draw his examples for the weather gauge "not on the cloth."

In plain terms, having the weather gauge simply means that a ship is to windward of her opponent.

Is the weather gauge really an advantage? According to Falconer's New Universal Dictionary of the Marine, originally published in 1815, the answer is no. The caveat being that most sailors would tell you emphatically yes. Rather than try to paraphrase the master, here are William Burney Falconer's comments on the advantages of weather gauge:


1. The weather-gage is the sooner clear of smoke; and of course that line can better observe the signals which are spread, than the ships to leeward can, which must have the continuance of both its own and of the enemy longer.
2.  If the weather-ships are more in number than the enemy's they can detach some from their squadron; which, bearing down upon the rear of the enemy, must infallibly throw them into disorder.
3. The fire-ships of the weather-line can, when they are ordered, more easily bear down upon the enemy than those of the lee can ply to windward, which can never be done against a line in action; but the weather fire-ships can bear down against all the resistance that can be made by the enemy.

Falconer tells us that the disadvantage for the weather ships is in, for all intents and purposes, running away. As he so delicately puts it, "the weather-line cannot decline the action, without the dangerous expedient of forcing through the enemy's line."

There are advantages to the lee gauge, however, as Falconer notes:

1. If one, two or more of the ships to windward should be disabled, they must inevitable drive to leeward, and become a prey to the enemy.
2. The ships of the lee-line can more readily bear away before the wind, and have their places supplied by ships from the corps-de-reserve, in case of being disabled or meeting with any disaster.
3. The line to leeward can keep their ports longer open in a strong wind with a high sea, when those to windward in all probability may be obliged to shut the ports of their lower tier of guns, to prevent the water from rushing in between decks, which may be attended with the most fatal consequences.
4. The lee-line can more easily observe the men on the decks of the ships to windward, as they heel, and when the smoke does not interrupt their sight; at which time the marines and topmen may easily take aim at and destroy them with muskets and carbins.

Of course, the lee gauge has its own disadvantages including a lack of control over the timing of the battle and the ever present danger of an enemy ship breaking away from her line and coming up on the lee gauge ship or ships from behind.

The weather gauge has gone by the board now that ships of battle are outfitted with motors instead of sails. But you'll never convince an old salt - or an old soul - that the weather gauge isn't of great advantage in battle regardless of situation.

Header: USS Essex vs. HMS Alert August 13, 1812, painting by John B. Dindale

History: Aboard USS Essex

May 28, 1813: At the height of the War of 1812, Captain David Porter aboard USS Essex of thirty-six guns, takes five British whalers in the South Pacific. Here is an excerpt from Porter’s report to the Naval Board of around the same time:


I have completely broken up the British navigation in the Pacific; the vessels which had not been captured by me were laid up, and dared not venture out… They have furnished me amply with sails, cordage, cables anchors, provisions, medicines, and stores of every description; and the slop-shops on board them have furnished clothing fore the seamen. We have in fact lived on the enemy since I have been in that sea, every prize having proved a well-found store-ship for me.

Take a moment, you among the U.S. Brethren, to remember the heroic spirits of our service men and women of all eras on this Memorial Day.

Header: USS Essex via Age of Sail (see sidebar)

Seafaring Sunday: Around the Horn

March 28, 1800: Frigate USS Essex commanded by Edward Preble becomes the first U.S. Navy ship to round the Cape of Good Hope and head into the Indian Ocean.

Header: USS Essex via NavArt

Books: Curious Connections

I'm not one of those people who looks for links and conspiracies in everything they see, trying desperately to connect the unconnected dots of life and research to make some sort of sense out of nonsense. That’s just silly. But when there is a legitimate connection between things and/or people I find fascinating, I get genuinely excited. Today’s post is about one of those curious connections.


On February 1, 1780 David Porter Jr. was born in Boston. Porter’s father served in the Continental Navy. Two of Porter’s sons, David Farragut and David Dixon Porter, would go on to achieve greatness in the U.S. and Union navies. Porter himself was held prisoner in Tripoli during the Barbary Wars, was the first Commodore of the New Orleans Naval Station and, as captain of USS Essex, all but wiped out the British whaling industry in the South Pacific during the War of 1812. With all that success, Porter was an outspoken leader who was not well liked by his peers or superiors; his unfortunate propensity for speaking the truth made them skittish at best. After what he felt were unjustified reprimands following his pirate hunting success commanding the Mosquito Fleet out of Key West, Porter left the U.S. and took command of the fledgling Mexican navy. This operation would find but little success and Porter eventually returned to his natal country. He died in Turkey in 1843, where he was serving as U.S. Ambassador. He is buried in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Porter’s brilliant if unstable career is oddly mirrored by a well known seaman from the other side of the pond: Thomas Cochrane. Both found success and then vilification in their countries’ navies. Both moved on to command the maritime forces of rebellious Spanish colonies. And both returned to their countries to take up positions of state rather than turn back to the sea. The two men, according to their biographers, admired and envied one another, even exchanging correspondence on more than one occasion.

These facts in and of themselves stand as curious connections but, to my mind, it gets better. Enter the literary genius who was known as Patrick O’Brian.

O’Brian is often disdainful of Americans in general and the U.S. Navy in particular in his Aubrey/Maturin novels. Two of the nastier intelligencers in the series, Henry Johnson and Louisa Wogan, are from the U.S. Stephen’s beloved Diana is whisked from his grasp by the treacherous Johnson. Jack thinks so little of the U.S. Navy that he asks British women aboard HMS Java if they have been raped by the Americans after they capture the ship. These are just a few highlights. All that said, it is to David Porter – not Thomas Cochrane – that O’Brian turns for inspiration in more than one of his wonderful books.

Anthony Gary Brown addresses this point directly in The Patrick O’Brian Muster Book. Of The Far Side of the World he notes:

In this book O’Brian states his inspiration as the pursuit of USS Essex by HMS Phoebe in 1814; the American intent to disrupt the valuable British whaling trade was real enough, but O’Brian’s plot is almost entirely of his own invention (and Peter Weir’s version of it in his 2003 movie based on the book was largely that director’s own creation).

The pursuit and eventual destruction of Essex by Captain Hillyar’s Phoebe was one of the low points in Porter’s career, despite his huge success in the Great South Sea. He lost a number of officers and men in the battle at Valparaiso Harbor and only barely made it home in a leaky whaling vessel.

Brown also points out that the “battles between English and French surrogates at Moahu” in The Truelove (published as Clarissa Oakes in Britain) were most probably inspired by direct action on Porter’s part. In 1813 Porter and his crews assisted in a mêlée between Typee and Happah tribesmen on the island of Nooaheevah in the Marquesas. The hope was to secure the island itself and eventually the entire chain under U.S. protection but the bloody action eventually came to nothing. Virtually the same situations – right down to a brutal slaughter of natives with cannon and a compliant lady companion for Captain Aubrey – are detailed in The Truelove. The similarities here are even more striking than they are in The Far Side of the World. The ultimate failure of Aubrey’s bid for British control of the island mirrors Porter’s experience.

O’Brian was not only a master story teller but an excellent researcher who knew that fact was usually more interesting than fiction, if told the right way. It’s not surprising that he saw the similarities between his larger-than-life hero Aubrey and David Porter, USN. For me personally, it remains one of those delightfully curious connections that keep me excited about history and literature and writing year after year.

Header: Master and Commander desktop via dutchtilt

History: The Continental Navy and Pirate Democracy

The first was named Alfred, in honor of the greatest Navy that ever existed; the second, Columbus, after the discoverer of this quarter of the globe; the third, Cortez, after the discoverer of the northern part of the continent; the fourth, Andrew Doria, in honor of the great Genoese admiral; and the fifth, Providence, the name of the town where she was purchased and the residence of Governor Hopkins and his brother Esek, whom we appointed the first captain.


This quote comes from John Adams in his role as a member of the Continental Congress. In it, he delineates the first five vessels of the Continental Navy. Upon those vessels, of course, discipline was not an option but Congress was keen to ensure that the potentially out of control discipline that reigned in the Royal Navy of the day did not trickle down to the newly established fleet of the United Colonies of North America. To that end, a written set of Rules and Regulations were approved and enacted on November 28, 1775.

There are 44 Articles in total dealing with everything from victualling to pay to “divine service”. Some specific points are worth noting on this 236th anniversary of their establishment, particularly those that obviously try to distinguish the new naval force from its ancient parent.

Article 1 is telling in and of itself; the first issue on hand is not day to day life aboard ship but duty, honor, and the importance of setting a good example:

The commanders of all ships and vessels belonging to the Thirteen United Colonies are strictly required to shew in themselves a good example of honor and virtue to their officers and men…

A commander may be the law at sea but he is not above it. Like a modern head coach of an NFL team, whatever happens aboard his ship is ultimately his responsibility and/or fault. Leading by example is not just a good idea, it is a given.

“Divine service,” which in general meant reading from the Bible, is expected to be performed twice a day with a sermon preached on Sunday barring “bad weather or other extraordinary accidents prevent it.” Most ships of this time, even in the Royal Navy, did not carry a chaplain, however. Sailors imagined holy men aboard as bad luck. Although Article 2 does not say so, a reading of the Articles of War – which Article 7 states must be done once a month – was an acceptable substitute.

Other Articles ban cursing and drunkenness, with the commander given specific parameters as to punishments for same. Article 4 specifically gives the most severe punishment open to a captain without recourse to consultation with a superior officer – a Commodore – or tribunal of courts martial:

No Commander shall inflict any punishment upon a seaman beyond twelve lashes upon his bare back with a cat of nine-tails…

This clearly speaks to the brutal practices of some Royal Navy captains who would order up to 500 lashes, sometimes for minor offenses.

Care is taken to see that men are paid in a timely manner and that their names are entered into ship’s books appropriately. “A convenient place” is to be set up for sick and injured men and the need for a surgeon and surgeon’s mates is also indicated. Fishing is not just encouraged but mandated when possible, so that the men and particularly the sick have fresh food. The purser is admonished to inspect stored provisions “… and if the bread proves damp to have it aired on the quarter-deck or poop…”

Unlike the Royal Navy, where sailors who died or were killed at sea might have their things sold at auction by their mates, Article 23 mandates that “… cloaths, bedding and other things of such persons…” should be returned to their families.

Article 26 specifically addresses a commander’s duty when faced with an enemy ship. This Article, wherein the captain is again expected to lead by example and “order all things in his ship in a proper posture for fight” was the one repeatedly thrown up in James Baron’s face over the Chesapeake/Leopard Affair, eventually leading to the duel that killed Stephen Decatur.

A commander is given permission to take a life in time of battle when a man deserts his “duty or station”. This occurred when David Porter’s Essex met HMS Phoebe in Valparaiso Harbor. Essex’s gunner deserted his post, saying he would not stay to be slaughtered “like a sheep”. Porter, enraged, gave his adoptive son, Midshipman David Farragut, a pistol and admonished him: “Do your duty, sir.” The gunner was not located before Essex struck to Phoebe. The only other Article that addresses immediate punishment by death addresses cases of murder.

Article 32 gives any crewman, from ship’s boy to First Lieutenant, the right of redress if he feels he has “cause for complaint”. This Article specifically states that if the petitioner does not receive a fair hearing from his direct superior, he may petition the captain.

While these Rules and Regulations for a new navy maintain the disciplines necessary for the running of a capable ship, the tone is very different from those of the Royal Navy. The new egalitarianism and the belief that every man should be heard seeped into the wood and brass of those first five ships and it carries on to this day. One might boldly say that a bit of pirate democracy stood on the decks of the Navy of the United Colonies of North America.

Header: The Continental Fleet at Sea by Newland Van Powell c 1974

History: Battle of Valparaiso

In the War of 1812 Captain David Porter, commanding USS Essex in the South Pacific, was engaged in the pursuit of British whalers. His success was so great that he essential shut down His Majesty’s whaling fleet, costing Britain millions in lost revenue. Captain James Hillyar, in command of HMS Phoebe, was dispatched to take, sink or burn Essex. The two ships, along with their tenders, met and engaged in Valparaiso Harbor off Chile in the spring of 1814.


Hillyar, who was an acquaintance of Porter’s, employed the brutal tactic of standing out of Essex’s range, trapping her against the shore and bombarding her with his long guns until she was literally a floating abattoir. Porter was forced to strike after losing most of his crew, including all officers but his third lieutenant, Stephen Decatur McKnight and one midshipman – Porter’s adoptive son – David Farragut. The ungentlemanly behavior of the British captain would be spoken of for years and his career after the war was certainly hindered by the infamous affair. Porter himself would write to the Secretary of the Navy, William Jones, after his parole, castigating his former friend without reserve:

I now consider my situation less unpleasant that that of Captain Hillyar who, in violation of every principle of honor and generosity, and regardless of the rights of nations, has attacked Essex in her crippled state within a pistol shot of neutral shore, when for the last six weeks I have daily offered him fair and honorable combat on terms greatly to his advantage, the blood of the slain must be on his head, and he has yet to reconcile his conduct to heaven, to his conscience, and to the world.

Porter and the surviving members of his crew were back in the United States in time to witness the end of the war with the Battle of New Orleans.

Happy Independence Day to the U.S. Brethren, and a hearty cheer for one of our finest, Commodore David Porter.

Header: Contemporary engraving of the Battle of Valparaiso

History: Rebels Down Under

In the spring of 1865 Confederate States Ship Shenandoah, a frigate of war in service to her “country” in the Pacific, pulled into the harbor of Williamstown, Victoria in South Western Australia. The sight of the ship itself was enough to cause a stir but when it was discovered that she was a Confederate warship looking to dock for repairs, tongues really began to wag. Technically, Britain, whose colony Australia was, was neutral with regard to the American Civil War which meant that a Confederate ship docking for repairs – and nothing else including provisions or men – was acceptable. But there were many local Confederate sympathizers, particularly in the nearby township of Ballarat, who saw this as a chance to aid a ship full of freedom fighters even if that meant stepping outside the technicalities of international law.

Shenandoah was in the Pacific for one reason only, to sink, burn or take as prize any Union whaling ship she came across. Much like David Porter’s Essex, on the same mission against the British during the War of 1812, she was remarkably successful. According to contemporary pundits it was Shenandoah, Captained by James Waddell, that had single handedly seen to it that whale oil cost three times as much at the end of the war as it had at its beginning. The pundits were probably right given that Waddell and his crew captured upwards of 40 ships and took over 1,000 men prisoner. One point of honor later in life, for Waddell and his officer, was that none of the prisoners were ever killed or harmed. Records show that all were paroled back to New England prior to Shenandoah’s surrender.

The ship stayed in Williamstown port for 24 days, getting not only the repairs she needed but supplies and 42 hands from among local sailors and adventure seekers. The ship became an attraction, with people coming from outlying towns and farms to see her at dockside. The crew was treated to special prices at local saloons and dance halls which extended beyond a glass or two of whiskey. The officers were feted as well; in particular an extravagant dinner was held in their honor at the Melbourne Club and those Confederate sympathizers at Ballarat threw a fancy dress ball for them as well.

Seemingly a lone voice in the crowd, the U.S. Ambassador to Melbourne fumed and ranted, calling Shenandoah a freebooter and her crew pirates. The Embassy even formally threatening the British with a demand for reparations for violating the neutrality agreement (the U.S. was in fact paid 1.5 million dollars in reparations by Britain after the war for just such violations).

Pirates or no Union outrage didn’t stop the party, but Shenandoah sailing away did. Things got back to normal in the port of Williamstown. It was probably well after Shenandoah finally surrendered at Liverpool, England in November – making Waddell the last Confederate commander to do so – that anyone heard more of her. Even later still, though, a few of the men that sailed off illegally to adventure on the high seas began to return home. One of these was William Kenyon, a supernumerary, who later became a publican at Port Melbourne and was buried in that city’s cemetery.

A short exhibit focusing on Shenandoah's Australian visit put together by the Williamstown Maritime Association and entitled “The Rebels Down Under” starts today at Seaworks at Williamstown. Local historians will be on had as well as Sam Craghead from the Museum of the Confederacy in Richmond, Virginia where Shenandoah’s flag, ship’s logs and articles as well as journals and drawings made by the crew are on display. The exhibit runs only through Sunday and includes artifacts, models and talks and discussion groups this weekend. More information can be found at TheAge.com.au and wma.org.au.

Being of both southern descent and mixed race, I have a lot of personal conflict around the Civil War. That said, a sailor is a sailor whether navy man or pirate, and an angry sea will never discriminate. Plus, an interesting tidbit of maritime history is always worth looking into, don’t you think?

Header: Destruction of Whale Ships by CSS Shenandoah by B. Russell

People: A Hero In The Pacific

Today is the 231st anniversary of the birth of one of my personal heroes, David Porter. The U.S. Navy Captain who single-handedly shut down British whaling in the Pacific during the War of 1812 was paid back handily in Valparaiso Harbor off the shore of Chile by Royal Navy commander James Hillyar. One of my novels, The Heroes of New Orleans, features the battle as it occurred historically. The only license is the addition of Midshipman Danton Flynn, the son of one of my fictional heroines. In honor of Porter’s birthday, I offer a bit of this scene. I hope you enjoy it:

The roar of the cannons had continued for the last two hours, turning the clear air thick with gray smoke and making the sun appear as a hazy, red ball overhead. The bowl that was Valparaiso Harbor magnified and repeated each blast; the echoing thunder was deafening. There was no time to worry about seeing or hearing or even the outcome of the battle though, not with so many men bloodied on the deck of USS Essex.

Despite promises to the contrary, and an inclination of friendship toward Essex’s Captain, British Captain James Hillyar of HMS Phoebe along with her consort Cherub had attacked the American ship earlier in the afternoon. Phoebe’s long guns, capable of accuracy at a distance, allowed her to stay out of Essex’s range and pummel her most atrociously. The two British ships danced around the American frigate, cutting her masts, spars and ropes to pieces and killing and maiming the men on deck with indiscriminate abandon. Most of Essex’s warrant men were dead or wounded and of her six officers only her Captain, Third Lieutenant and two midshipmen were still unscathed. The deck was a shameful, sickening soup of brains, guts and blood and men slipped and moaned and fell overboard to drown.

In the midst of the horror, Quarter Gunner Adam Roach lost his nerve. Roach was a seasoned sailor who had seen two years of action with Captain Porter aboard Essex and more before that and he had been one of the most vocal and eager when plans for battle were announced. Now, while seeing his mates loose limbs and heads to enemy balls, he was overcome. He screamed that he could not – would not in fact – stay to be slaughtered like a sheep and ran from his post at the starboard guns.

The news of this critical desertion reached Captain Porter almost instantly and his rage could not be controlled. He turned his handsome, blood-smeared face to the waist of his frigate and let his voice be heard. “Lieutenant! Lieutenant Kearny, sir!”

Larry Kearny had been knocked unconscious by the foremast’s splintered yardarm and he lay sprawled on the gory deck near the mangled bowsprit.

“That’s Captain Porter,” David Farragut, one of the two midshipmen aboard Essex, said to his companion. They stood not far from where Kearny lie, their job now to run up and down the length of their ship and encourage the men at the guns. “Where’s Kearny, Flynn?”

“Kearny’s hurt,” Danton Flynn replied. He was the least senior officer aboard Essex, but he was almost a year older then Farragut. “He’s been struck by a spar, or I think he has.” Dan looked about, his unusually blue eyes wide and his head ringing with the incessant noise. Although he had seen action and a good deal of it in his time with Captain Porter, no experience in his thirteen years on Earth prepared him for this unimaginable carnage.

“Well, there’s nothing for it then.” Farragut straightened his stock and headed for the quarterdeck.

“Where are you going, Gatty?” Dan grabbed his friend’s arm to stay him. “The Captain called for a Lieutenant. Surely there must be one to hand.”

“Look around you, Flynn. There is no one to hand but you and me, and that only by the grace of God.” Farragut freed his arm and tugged at his waistcoat. He was a tall, lanky young man with sad blue eyes and brown, curly hair. He looked older than his twelve years and he bore an interesting resemblance to his Captain. In fact, David Farragut was Porter’s adoptive child and it was whispered quietly among the men that young Gatty was actually the Captain’s natural son. “I will go. You stay here until I get back.”

Dan watched David Farragut disappear into the gray smoke that hovered over the frigate like a sickly mist. He shook his head, pulled his hat down and turned back to his work.
* * * * *
David Farragut scurried up the companion ladder and headed in the direction of his Captain, a tall, unscathed figure standing near what was left of Essex’s mizzenmast. “Sir!” David said as loudly as he could, touching his hat to Captain Porter dutifully.

“Farragut,” Porter bellowed. “I called for Kearny.”

“He’s unconscious, sir. Struck by a spar, I think.”

Porter turned his gaze to the bow and the pinched look of frustration on his face grew graver. “Damn!” He turned back to David. “Very well then, Farragut. I must apologize but I am afraid this dirty job falls to you.”

“I am at your service, of course, sir.”

“Gunner Roach of the starboard watch has deserted.”

“Deserted?”

“That’s what I said,” Porter snapped. “The useless bastard. We’ve no time for niceties in this, you understand Farragut, and no room for cowardice neither.” The Captain pulled a pistol from under his uniform’s coat and handed it to the midshipman.

Farragut stared at the pistol a moment, and then looked up at his imposing superior office and father.

“Take it, Farragut,” Porter bellowed over the blast of cannons. “Do your duty, sir!”

The tone of the Captain’s voice brought David to his senses and he took the pistol, touched his hat to Porter, and hurried back down the companion ladder to search for the missing gunner and dispatch him as ordered.
* * * * *
“Gatty!” Dan met his friend near one of the hatchways and saw the determination on his face. “Lord, man, what are you doing with that pistol?”

The order had been given to cut Essex’s last cable and, with the wind in her only viable sail, she was inching closer to Phoebe. The sound of the cannon’s became deafening, and Farragut shook his head and narrowed his eyes at his friend.

Flynn put his mouth to his fellow midshipman’s ear and repeated the question as loud as he could.

“A deserter,” Farragut replied and then motioned as if he were shooting the pistol.

Flynn’s jaw dropped for he could not believe the situation at all. That a man had deserted his post was unthinkable, and that Farragut had been ordered to kill him was unimaginable.

“Com’on,” Farragut managed over the din, and the two boys headed below.
* * * * *
“Well, that will never work, Porter,” James Hillyar, standing on the quarterdeck of his Phoebe, said to himself after giving the order to drop away from Essex. “You’ve only your jib boom left in tact; what ever are you thinking, sir?”

“What was that, sir?” William Ingraham, Phoebe’s First Lieutenant, asked as he returned to his Captain’s side after reluctantly giving the order to feint.

“Just a stray comment, Mr. Ingraham,” Hillyar replied and closed his glass. “Are we out of Essex’s range once again?”

“We are too, sir.”

“Good; then continue firing at will.”

Ingraham hesitated and looked at his Captain. Hillyar was now fifty years old but, despite his gray hair and his craggy face, he still had a fine figure with only a moderate belly and jowls to show for his many years as a sedentary sea Captain. He had been given specific orders to burn, sink or take as prize USS Essex and, despite his familiarity with her Captain, Hillyar was not at all the sort of man to go against his orders.

“What is it now, Ingraham,” Hillyar said after a time, turning to his Lieutenant with a look of frank exasperation.

“Sir, if I might have permission to speak freely at all,” Ingraham began.

“Permission is granted.”

“Captain Hillyar, it is my opinion that this battle has gone on long enough.”

“Is it indeed, Lieutenant Ingraham,” Hillyar said with a smirk as he put his glass back to his eye. “And tell me, what would you do were you wearing my boots?”

“I would move into range and give the order to board her, sir.”

“Why is that now? Why would you risk your own men unnecessarily?”

“Sir, our men are one thing of course, but there are men aboard Essex as well. Why you can hear the screams of the dying even at this range. The sea around her is red with her blood.”

“What is that to me, Mr. Ingraham?”

“Captain Hillyar,” Ingraham continued, this time with even more indignation than before. “You will certainly forgive me, sir, but it is deliberate murder to lie off at long range and fire at that ship as though she were a target!”

Hillyar turned back to his First Lieutenant at last, his steely gray eyes narrowed and his thin lips set in an angry frown. “Mr. Ingraham, sir. I have gained my reputation by several single-ship combats, and I expect to retain it on this present occasion only by an implicit obedience to orders,” the Captain took in a deep breath through his prominent nose and looked the Lieutenant up and down. “Viz, to capture the Essex with the least possible risk to my vessel and her crew. As I have a superior force, I have determined not to leave anything to chance, as I believe that any other course would call down upon me the disapprobation of our government.”

A long silence followed this speech and Ingraham stood still and straight, looking out toward Essex rather than at his Captain.

“Do I make myself clear, Mr. Ingraham?”

“Quite clear, sir.”

“Very good then. The order is given Lieutenant. Carry it out.”

Ingraham touched his hat to Captain Hillyar and proceeded down the companion ladder to the gun deck.
* * * * *
A half an hour later the favorable wind had shifted once again and Essex was headed away from Phoebe. Cherub had ceased her fire, but it mattered very little to the overwhelmed Americans. Captain Porter at last gave the dreaded order to point Essex toward shore and run her aground. This would give his men time to climb onto land before the wreck that had been his ship sank into the blue-green water of Valparaiso Harbor.

Phoebe’s cannon fire continued, and it was noted by those still in their senses that it seemed Hillyar was practicing his gunnery on a beef barrel. As the wind shifted yet again, and then died all together, Essex became nothing more than a sitting duck. Still the merciless bludgeoning continued.

Flames became visible at two of the hatchways and any sailor who could move abandon what he was doing and went to work extinguishing them. Many of their mates were below decks, in the orlop or nearby with Dr. Blunt and his assistants. The last thing any man wanted was to see his friends trapped in a hellish inferno and burned to death. In the midst of this mayhem were Danton Flynn and David Farragut, who had given up his useless search for the deserter Roach. They carried buckets like foremast jacks, and their fine uniforms were soon black with soot.

“MacKnight,” Porter was calling to his remaining Lieutenant while he stood near his crippled mizzen mast glancing back and forth from Phoebe to the flames in Essex’s waist.. “MacKnight there.”

Stephen Decatur MacKnight, Essex’s Third Lieutenant, turned from where he was calling out to the bucket crews in the waist and trotted to his Captain. “Sir?”

“This is futile, Mr. MacKnight,” Porter called. “Give the order now, sir. Any man who cares to may go overboard and swim for shore. After that I need you to mark the time if you please.”

MacKnight knew exactly what Captain Porter was saying and, although he also knew that this was the only rational decision, he felt his heart sink. He touched his hat to his Captain and turned back to the men in the waist.

Porter watched as the order was given and his square jaw set angrily. This was not the end he had imagined for his beloved Essex, but a ship was only a ship he told himself and his men needed at least a chance. He looked down into the waist too and saw his midshipmen scurrying about with their buckets. Neither seemed to take note of MacKnight or his order and Porter could not contain a little smile. “Brave boys,” he said to himself before looking up to the top of the mizzen where an unusual pendant still flew.

“Flynn! Farragut!” He called out to his mids. “Come here, gentlemen.”

Dan and David jumped to without hesitation. Both boys were on the quarterdeck in a heartbeat.

“I’ve a job for you sirs, albeit unpleasant.”

Dan touched his hat to his Captain and said: “Anything at all, sir, of course,” and he did not lie by half. He idolized David Porter and thought him a veritable Sinbad reborn. After cruising under Porter’s command for the last two years, there was nothing that Dan Flynn would not do for his Captain. “I am at your service.”

“We both are sir,” David added.

“Here,” Porter pulled a pristinely white neckerchief, the size of a common flag, from the pocket of his trousers.

“Oh, sir, no,” Dan stammered. He and his companion immediately grasped the meaning of this piece of cloth and their eyes grew wide.

“Not you sir,” David shook his head. “Not surrender.”

“Listen gentlemen,” Porter said in as calm a tone as he could muster over the din around them. “Essex is in tatters both above and below. She is taking on more water than her pumps can handle, her sails, rigging and masts are useless and hardly a man can be found without some injury or other. Phoebe can stay out of our fire and still hit us again and again with her guns of long range and here we are now, dead in the water between she and Cherub with her swift tacking and deadly accuracy.” Porter looked over first his larboard gunnels and then his starboard and shook his head angrily as he saw Phoebe continue her unremitting barrage. “We must get our wounded to a ship afloat, and Dr. Blunt needs help with them as well.”

“But, surrender sir?”

“It is the only way Flynn,” Porter managed an unconvincing smile. He handed his neckerchief to his midshipmen and then put his hands reassuringly on their shoulders. “I know Captain Hillyar. He is a personal friend of mine. Rest assured that we will be treated honorably.”

Dan choked back his urge to plead further and turned to his companion. David nodded and the two moved to the mizzen mast. They looked up, and to their surprise the flag that Captain Porter had made at the start of the engagement still fluttered overhead. It read quite clearly, in the Captain’s neat hand: God, our country and liberty: tyrants offend them all.

Dan sighed and looked at his friend, his eyes sad and his face sallow.

“Nothing offends me so much as the need for this order that we must carry out,” David said.

“Amen to that, brother.”

With that, they pulled down Captain Porter’s challenge, and hoisted the white flag of surrender while behind them the Captain himself lowered the American flag.

Header: Essex, Phoebe and Cherub in Valparaiso Harbor by George Ropes

Ships: Old Ironsides

One of the original six frigates built by the new government of the independent country of the United States of America, USS Constitution is now the oldest working sailing frigate on the water. She's been everything from a warrior to a training ship, a cargo hauler to a hospital and, because of the many men who have served aboard her, she is my choice for a Memorial Day tribute here at Triple P.

Built in Boston, Massachusetts at Edmund Hartt's yard, Constitution was designed by Joshua Humphreys, William Doughty and Josiah Fox for launch in October of 1797. Originally bound for the Barbary coast to fight pirates, she ended up serving in the Quasi-War with France instead. Between 1798 and 1800 she took a number of French warships and privateers. By 1801 she was back in the U.S., at the Charleston Naval Yard for a refit.

In 1803 she returned to action and this time she made it to Barbary. She was one of Commodore Edward Preble's Mediterranean Squadron and she helped to liberate the sailors of USS Philadelphia from Tripoli. Preble's actions, along with those of William Eaton and the U.S. Marines, forced the Barbary states to relinquish the requirement of "tribute" payments from American ships.

Constitution was given to John Rodgers in 1809. Isaac Hull followed as her Captain in 1810. When the War of 1812 broke out she took up a post off New Jersey. She encountered a number of British ships on the Atlantic station and became famous when she took HMS Guerriere in a two hour firefight. Constitution's superior fire power - 30 24 pound cannon and 20 42 pound carronades - won the day. The British ship's inability to put a dent in Constitution earned her the nickname Old Ironsides. She returned to Boston with her prisoners. Guerriere, a total loss with 78 men dead, was blown up at sea.

William Bainbridge was given command of Constitution in late 1812. The ship set out to rendezvous with Captain David Porter's Essex off Brazil but encountered HMS Java and commenced firing. Java was reduced to a dismasted hulk and lost 128 men, including her captain, Henry Lambert. Java, like Guerriere, was blown up at sea. This time, though, Constitution suffered considerable damage as well and Bainbridge limped her home to Boston. This engagement was used by Patrick O'Brian in his Aubrey/Maturin novel The Fortunes of War.

Bainbridge, wounded in the Java fight, turned over command of Constitution to Charles Stewart. Stewart took two more British ships, Levant and Cyane, in February of 1815. He did not know that the war was over at that point. Constitution returned to port in May. The ship was laid up in ordinary until 1821. When the Navy planned to break her for scrap in 1828, the U.S. people rallied to her aid. Constitution was rebuilt. She circumnavigated the globe in 1846 - with Andrew Jackson as her figurehead - and saw action as a Union frigate in the Civil War. By 1897, she was at dock as a naval receiving ship in New Hampshire.

Moved to Boston before the turn of the century, she was again restored and sailed on a "goodwill tour" in the 1930s. She is now a museum ship, sailing with other tall ships on July 4th each year. She is the oldest commissioned warship in the world and you can visit her next time you're in Boston. Right this moment, you can visit her enthralling website.

Constitution is a three masted heavy frigate of 2,200 tons. She carried up to sixty guns and as many as 450 men. She is an icon of American seafaring. On this day of remembering all who serve, I salute you Old Ironsides.

History: Round The Cape

On this day in 1800 USS Essex, Captained by Edward Preble (above) became the first U.S. Navy ship to round the Cape of Good Hope and enter the Indian Ocean. Want to know more about one of my favorite ships? Of course you do.

Ships: Yankee Built

As was noted yesterday, USS Essex was the ship Captain David Porter sailed into history in 1813. She was one of the first U.S. frigates of war, and she was built to withstand just about anything she came up against.

The U.S. Navy was officially formed in 1794 by an act of Congress. She superseded the old Continental Navy that John Paul Jones had led to such resounding success during the Revolution. At the time, individual states began commissioning ships as gifts to the government, knowing that the Congress had not set aside money for the purpose. It was a generous act in a time when the states were very much independent from their one-day Federal overlord (thanks for starting that trend, Al Hamilton).

Knowing that the Navy would not be as well supplied with ships as her potential enemies - which pretty much included every world power at the turn of the 19th century - the ships the states commissioned were built heavy and large of the white oak native only to the Atlantic coast of the new U.S. These ships could carry considerably more guns than their continental counterparts. Essex, named for Essex County, Massachusetts, was one such frigate of war. Built by Enos Briggs of Salem from a William Hackett design, she was launched September 30, 1799. She had a length of 140 feet, a beam of 37 feet and a draft of 12 feet. She displaced 850 tons and carried an armament of 40 32 pound carrronades and 6 18 pound cannon. Her complement was up to 319 men.

Initially Captained by Edward Preble, Essex went straight into action in the Quasi-War with France (1798-1800). She saw action in the Indian Ocean, where she was escorting Dutch merchants home from India. In 1801, she was stationed in the Mediterranean during the first Barbary War. It was Essex, under the command of James Barron, that brought the paroled prisoners from the captured USS Philadelphia - including then Lieutenant David Porter - home to the U.S. from Tripoli.

Essex was laid up in 1806 but was refit in 1809 and called back into action at the start of the War of 1812 (1812-1815). This time her Captain was David Porter and she saw success along the U.S. coast, taking 10 British prizes including the sloop of war HMS Alert. In October, 1812, Essex sailed from Delaware with orders to rendezvous with her sisters Constitution and Hornet off Brazil. The three ships were then to move on to the Pacific to begin taking English ships, whalers in particular.

Typically impatient, Porter made the decision to go on without the other ships after waiting only 30 days. In January of 1813, Essex left Brazil and crossed into the Pacific on February 14th. We've already discussed Porter's unprecedented success in his South Pacific endeavor so I won't rehash it here. By October, Porter was in the Marquesas Islands refitting Essex and her new companion ship Essex Jr., formerly the armed British whaling vessel either Georgiana or Atlantic, depending on which source you read.

In February, 1814, Essex and Essex Jr. pulled into Valparaiso in Chile to refresh their water and stores. They were, unfortunately, followed by HMS Phoebe and her tender HMS Cupid. The British warships initially respected the neutrality of the harbor and set up a blockade. A month later, however, when Porter tried to break the blockade, the British turned very dishonorable indeed.

Captain James Hillyard of Phoebe attacked Essex in the harbor and stood off with his longer range guns, pounding away on the American frigate while staying just out of range of Essex's cannons. The details of the battle are a post in themselves but even Hillyard's First Lieutenant complained to his Captain that the abuse of Essex was both shameful and cowardly. Hillyard simply replied that he was doing his duty.

Porter struck three hours later after trying to put Essex ashore to allow his uninjured men to retreat. 58 Americans were killed, including the First Lieutenant, 31 men drown and 70 were wounded. The Second Lieutenant from Phoebe, a veteran seaman, vomited upon boarding Essex due to the carnage that he confronted on her deck. Porter suffered a concussion.

Perhaps because of the disgraceful misery they were subjected to, Essex's remaining crew, along with Porter and his officers, were immediately paroled and they returned to New York aboard Essex Jr. Despite the loss of their ship, Porter and his men were hailed as heroes upon their return.

Essex was repaired and taken into the Royal Navy. She became a convict transportation in 1823 and by 1837 she was sold into the merchant service. An unfortunate and inglorious end for such a glorious ship.

History: A Singular Milestone

Happy Valentine's Day, Brethren. I am so glad to have you along on this voyage that I thought I would share an historical milestone of this day. This one unencumbered by hearts and cupids but instead wreathed with daring and courage. And all in the tradition of wooden ships and iron men.

On this day in 1813, USS Essex became the first U.S. warship to cross into the Pacific ocean. At her helm that day and through out her South Pacific cruise during the War of 1812 was our old mate Captain David Porter.

Porter wrote regular reports to the Department of the Navy back home while he swept the Pacific like a wolf, literally shutting down the British whaling operations in that part of the world. The following is an excerpt from one of these dispatches, written later in 1813:

I have completely broken up the British navigation in the Pacific. The vessels which were not captured by me were laid up and dared not venture out into the great South Sea. They have furnished me amply with sails, cordage, cables, anchors, provisions, medicines and stores of ever description; and... clothing for seamen. We have in fact lived off the enemy since I have been in that sea, every prize having proved a well-founded store-ship for me.

Porter's audacity and pompous self-admiration both come across in his writing. It is those qualities - and his unheard of success in this operation and many more - that made the great man both loved (particularly by his men) and hated (by peers like Stephen Decatur, James Barron, and others). I, as you know, shamelessly fall on the love side. I wonder if the Captain would appreciate a little Valentine from Pauline?