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Allen, Of The Chesapeake |
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Title: Allen, Of The Chesapeake Author: James Barnes [More Titles by Barnes] Give a ship an unlucky name, and it will last throughout the whole of her career. A sailor is proverbially superstitious, and he clings jealously to tradition. It is told that when the frigate Chesapeake was launched she stuck fast on the ways, and did not reach the water until the following day, which was Friday. Although she was a fine vessel to look at, she grounded upon the bar upon her first attempt to sail, and, when once free, behaved herself in such a lubberly fashion that those who witnessed her starting out declared she was bewitched. Even after many changes had been made in the length of her masts, in the weight of spars, and the cut of sails, still she was considered by many a failure. And, although her sailing qualities improved as time went on, yet her bad name stuck to her, as bad names will. Given this drawback, the unlucky captain of such a craft finds it difficult to recruit a proper crew, and must often be content with green hands, or the riffraff disdained by other ships' masters. Commodore James Barron, who had been ordered to the Chesapeake, was a brave officer. He had succeeded the peppery Commodore Preble in command of the fleet that had so successfully negotiated the operations before Tripoli, and there he had won for himself a name and reputation. Nevertheless, he was not entirely popular with his officers. They failed to find in him the graciousness of manner and deportment, the strict adherence to the lines of duty, and yet the kindliness of thought and conduct that distinguished young Captain Bainbridge; and they missed, strange to say, the iron hand and stern rule of Preble, the martinet. Just before sailing from the Capes to relieve the Constitution on the Mediterranean station, the Chesapeake had recruited, from Delaware and Maryland, a green crew. Not above fifty of her complement were men-of-warsmen. Perhaps one hundred more had seen service in deep-sea craft, and had made long cruises; but the rest, numbering probably one hundred and fifty, were longshoremen or landsmen. Lying inside the mouth of Chesapeake Bay were several British men-of-war. As was usual when in American ports, they were compelled to watch their crews most closely, for the higher pay and the better treatment, which cannot be denied, had tempted many an impressed seaman to leave his ship, and take refuge under the American flag. It was claimed by Vice-Admiral Berkeley in command of the English fleet, that four British sailors had deserted from the Melampus, and joined Barron's frigate. The following correspondence passed between Robert Smith, the Secretary of the Navy at Washington, and Commodore Barron, in relation to the matter. It explains in the best way possible, how affairs stood at the outset.
To this letter Commodore Barron made haste to reply, and the following is taken verbatim from his note to the Secretary:--
The foregoing proves beyond all manner of doubt what ground Commodore Barron had in taking the stand he did further on in the proceedings. But Admiral Berkeley was a very proud, obstinate man. His feelings had been hurt by the refusal of the Yankee commodore to give up his men, and he bided his time. On Monday, June 22, 1807, the Chesapeake put to sea with her ill-assorted and undisciplined crew. In the harbor of Lynnhaven lay the British squadron under the command of Commodore Douglass, acting under the orders of Vice-Admiral Berkeley. It consisted of the Bellona, seventy-four, the Triumph, seventy-four, the Leopard, fifty, and the Melampus, thirty-eight. Why it was that the Leopard was selected for the work which was to follow, is easy to surmise. Vice-Admiral Berkeley had determined, at all hazards, to search the American vessel to ascertain if she had in her complement those "British seamen" who had deserted from the fleet. Barron's refusal to allow a search made of his vessel while she was in port had been backed up by the United States Government. This had exceedingly exasperated the English commander, and he determined to wait until the Chesapeake was at sea before putting his cherished project into practice. As soon as the Chesapeake set sail, the Leopard was despatched to bring her to. The Melampus was not sent because she was too near the Chesapeake's armament, and resistance might be successfully made to any attempt at high-handed interference. Nor did he take the trouble to despatch one of his seventy-fours, which might have brought the Chesapeake under her guns, and compelled her to submit by the law that "might makes right"; but the Leopard was sent because she was just large enough to insure success, and yet to humble the American from the mere fact that he must inevitably yield to a vessel to which he should by rights make some resistance. It was a calm day with just enough wind to move the ships through the water. The Leopard, that had really got under way first, overhauled the smaller vessel, after a few hours' sailing. At three o'clock, when forty-five miles off shore, she hove to across her bows, and the slight wind that had wafted them from the Capes died away almost at the moment. Hailing the American ship's captain, Humphreys stated that he would like to send despatches by her--a privilege always accorded one friendly nation by another. On the Chesapeake's deck, chatting with the officers, were two lady passengers, who were bound with four or five gentlemen passengers for the Straits. Part of the cabin had been allotted to the use of the ladies and their maids. As they had come on board at a late hour, their trunks and luggage were yet on the deck. Amicable relations existed between America and England, and there was nothing especially unfriendly in the attitude of the English frigate, although her action excited much comment on board the ship, and gave rise to many surmises. Captain Barron was on the quarter-deck, when news was brought to him that the Leopard had lowered a boat with an officer in it, and that it was making for the Chesapeake's side. The ladder was dropped, the side boys were piped to the gangway, and Barron himself stepped forward to greet the Lieutenant, extending his hand and welcoming him graciously. Standing close by was Dr. John Bullus, a passenger, the newly-appointed consul to the Island of Minorca, and the naval agent to the United States naval squadron in the Mediterranean. "Captain Humphreys' compliments," began the Lieutenant. "And he requires the privilege of searching this vessel for deserters." "What are their names, may I ask?" inquired Barron. The officer replied, reading from a list he carried in his hand, but describing the men as subjects of "His Majesty, King George." When he had finished, Barron frowned. "There has been a careful and full inquiry into the cases of these seamen," he said at last, "and after a minute investigation into the circumstances, the British Minister, Mr. Erskine, is perfectly satisfied on the subject, inasmuch as these men were American citizens, impressed by officers of the Melampus. This gentleman," turning to Dr. Bullus, "our naval agent, is particularly acquainted with all the facts and circumstances relative to the transaction. He received his information from the highest possible source." "From none less than the Honorable Robert Smith, the Secretary of our Navy," put in Dr. Bullus, "and I am most willing to go on board the Leopard and inform your commander to that effect, Mr. Erskine----" "I do not recognize Mr. Erskine in this business," interrupted the young Lieutenant arrogantly. "Nor do I wish to talk with any one but Captain Barron. There is much more to be said." Barron took the doctor to one side. "You will pardon me for placing you in a position to receive such an insult. I did not suppose it possible." "Make no mention of it," was the return; "I understand." With that the agent walked away. The Englishman could not have helped noticing the confusion upon the American's decks. The crew were engaged under the direction of the petty officers in coiling away the stiff, new running-gear and cables, men with paint-pots and brushes were touching up the bulwarks and paint work; others were polishing the brass; and it was altogether a peaceful scene that struck his eye, even if the presence of the ladies had not added the finishing touch. On the quarter-deck, leaning carelessly against the railing, was a young officer, Lieutenant William Henry Allen, third in rank. He was but twenty-three years of age, a tall, boyish-looking fellow, with beautiful features, clear eye and complexion, and ruddy cheeks. He noticed the glance the English officer had given, and his face clouded. He was near enough to hear what passed between Barron and the Lieutenant. "It is of such importance," went on the latter, continuing his previous remarks, "that I should desire to speak to you in private, sir. If we could but retire to your cabin----" "With the greatest pleasure in the world," Barron returned, indicating that the Lieutenant should precede him; and with that they disappeared from view. Once seated at the cabin table, the Englishman broached the subject without preamble. "Commodore Douglass," he began, "is fully determined to recover the deserters that are now harbored on board this ship. It is my desire to warn you that it is best that you submit to a peaceable search, and in return my commanding officer will permit you to do the same, and if any of your men are found in our complement, you are welcome to take them with you. This should bear great weight in helping you to form your decision. Here is his letter." Captain Barron took the paper, broke the seal, and read as follows:-- The Commander of H.B. Majesty's ship, "Leopard," to the Captain of the U.S. ship, "Chesapeake":-- "As I before remarked," said the Lieutenant, noting that Barron had finished the letter, "Captain Humphreys offers you the privilege of a mutual search." Captain Barron smiled. The idea that he should find any of his own men serving on board King George's vessel was rather amusing. "I have missed none of my crew," he said quietly, "and, while grateful for the privilege, I do not desire to make use of it." "And your answer?" broke in the Lieutenant. "You will take this letter, that I shall write, to Captain Humphreys, give him my best compliments, and of course inform him that I regret that I can neither avail myself of his courtesy, nor with honor can I permit a search to be made of my vessel." "As you decide," returned the Lieutenant, sententiously. For some minutes nothing was heard from the cabin. Barron was busily employed in inditing the epistle, and when it was delivered, the two officers came out together. The following is a copy of the letter to Captain Humphreys:--
The Englishman was escorted to the side, and once in his boat, his crew, as if urged to special exertion, made all haste to gain their ship. Allen turned and spoke to Benjamin Smith, the First Lieutenant. "I do not like the look of things," he said. "Nor I," responded Smith, advancing toward the Captain, who had stopped to speak to one of the lady passengers. He saluted his commander, and speaking in a low voice, he suggested the propriety of asking the ladies to retire below, and of clearing ship. "Tut, tut," replied Barron, carelessly; "you are over-nervous, Mr. Smith. My letter to Captain Humphreys will convince him that our actions are perfectly proper and peaceable, while any movement to prove to the contrary might lead him to suppose that I wished to precipitate some trouble. Nothing will occur, I warrant you." "Had we not better open the magazines, sir?" asked Captain Gordon, coming up at this moment. "It is not necessary," Barron returned, and once more joined the ladies. The keys of the magazine are always kept in the possession of the ship's captain, and by him they are handed to the gunner, and are never delivered to any one else. As was customary, the Chesapeake's broadside guns were loaded and shotted, for a ship generally sailed with them in this state of preparation; but they were not primed, and but thirteen powder horns had been made ready, and they were locked safe in the magazine. Around the foremast and in the cable tiers were plenty of wads and sponges, and ready on deck, before each gun, was a box of canister. But there were no matches prepared for service. The peaceful work went on. The crew continued touching up the paint work, and in the sunlight the brass shone brightly. From the galley came the clatter of dishes, and from below came the sound of a sea-song, chanted by one of the men off watch. Barron called Captain Gordon to him on the quarter-deck. "Captain," said he, "I think that fellow yonder hailed us a moment since; I could not make out what he said however. Perhaps we had better send the men to their stations quietly." "Very good, sir," returned the Captain, and he strolled forward leisurely, for he, like Barron, suspected no surprise. Allen had left the quarter-deck and had stepped forward to speak to Mr. Brooks, the sailing-master. They stopped at the entrance to the galley, which was in a caboose or deckhouse. Suddenly Lieutenant Smith looked out across the water at the Leopard, that was swinging lazily along at about the distance of a pistol shot. Surely he could not be mistaken. The muzzle of one of the forward guns was slewing around to bear upon the ship. Probably they were just exercising; but there! another followed suit, and then three more, as if moved by one command. His face blanched. What could it mean? But one thing! He whirled and saw that Barron had gone below to his cabin. Rushing to the ladies, he grasped them by the arms and having hardly time to make explanations, he hurried them to the companionway. "Below as far as you can go! Down to the hold!" he cried. "Don't stop; don't talk!" As he spoke he could scarce believe his eyes. A burst of white smoke, with a vivid red dash of flame from the centre, broke from the forward gun on the Leopard's main deck. There was a crash just abaft the break of the forecastle. A great splinter fully six feet long whirled across the deck. The shock was felt throughout the ship. A man who had been painting the bulwarks fell to his knees, arose, and fell again. His shoulder and one arm were almost torn away; his blood mingled with the paint from the overturned pot. He shrieked out in fright and agony. "Beat to quarters!" roared Lieutenant Smith. Up from below the men came tumbling. Barron ran from his cabin, with his face as white as death. "To quarters!" he roared, echoing the Lieutenant's order. Everything was confusion. The men gathered at the useless guns. The belated drummer began to sound the roll. Hither and thither rushed officers and midshipmen. The green hands stood gawking about; some overcome by fear and the suddenness of danger, plunged down the companionway. Where were the matches? Where were the priming horns? Barron turned to go to his cabin for the keys to the magazine. They were locked in the drawer of his heavy desk, and now there came another shot. It struck fair in the bulwarks, and the hammocks and their contents were thrown out of the nettings. Three men were wounded by the shower of splinters. And not a shot was fired yet in return. "Matches! give us the matches!" roared some of the men at the guns, as they tried to bring their harmless weapons to bear upon the Englishman. A deadly broadside struck the helpless Chesapeake. Blocks and spars fell from aloft. Suddenly from the entrance of the deckhouse ran a hatless figure. Men made way for him. It was Lieutenant Allen! His jaws were set and his eyes were glaring. Tossing between his hands, as a juggler keeps a ball in the air, was a red hot, flaming coal. "Here, sir!" cried one of the gunner's mates. "This one's primed, sir. For God's sake, here, sir!" Just as Allen reached forward, a shot from the Leopard struck the opening of the port. The man who had spoken was hit full in the breast. Five of the eight surrounding the piece fell to the deck, wounded by the murderous splinters. But Allen dropped his flaming coal upon the breech of the gun, and pushed into place with his scorched and blackened fingers. It was the lone reply to the Englishman's dastardly gun practice! For fifteen minutes the Leopard fired steadily by divisions. Covered with blood that had been dashed over him from the body of the man the round shot had killed, Allen ran aft. The ship was full of groans and shrieks and cursing. Forth from the cabin came Barron. He looked an aged, heart-broken man. When he saw the young Lieutenant, he stepped back a pace in horror. The scene of carnage on the deck unnerved him. "The keys! the keys!" shrieked Allen, almost springing at his commander's throat. "Let us fight, if we must die!" The thought that flashed through Barron's mind must have been the uselessness of resistance, the terrible death and destruction, and the inevitable loss that would be sure to follow. Almost resting himself upon the group of officers, he raised both hands above his head, the palms open and outstretched. "Haul down the flag!" he ordered faintly. A sailor, standing near by, caught the words and springing to the halliards, down it came, tangling almost into a knot, as if to hide its folds. The Leopard ceased her murderous work; but the confusion was great on board the Chesapeake. Men wept like babies. Wounded men were being carried below. Curses and imprecations on the English flag and on the distant ship rent the air. Many openly cursed their own commander. "Tell him to come here, and look at this!" cried an old sailor, pointing to one dead body on the deck. "Then will he lower the flag? Give us a chance, for God's sake, to fight like men!" Barron had hurried into the cabin. "Send for the officers of the ship." They were all there to a man, except the surgeon, who was busy down below. "Your opinions, gentlemen," he faltered. There was not a sound. Captain Gordon was silent. Tears were rolling down the First Lieutenant's cheeks. He tried to speak, and could not. "Sir, you have disgraced us!" It was Allen speaking. To save his life he could not have helped blurting out what he felt to be the truth. Barron spread out his arms weakly, then dropped his head into his hands. It was then presumed that he was wounded also, for blood was running down his wrists. They left him there. What use the rest of the story? The search was made, four men were taken. All claimed to be Americans; they were prepared to prove it. Captain Humphreys refused to accept the surrender of the vessel. Barron, hitherto known as brave and capable, was dishonored and relieved from all command, was sentenced to five years retirement without pay. Oh yes, the British Admiral was sentenced also. Of course the Board of Admiralty could not recognize such doings. They even made apologies and all the rest of it, and returned two of the men, all there were left, for one was hanged and another died. They sentenced their Vice-Admiral with a smile of covert approval, and they promoted him shortly afterwards. The unfortunate officers who had been innocent parties to the surrender felt keenly their position. They could not go through explanations to every one. They became morbidly sensitive upon the subject. No less then seven duels grew out of the affair, and Allen, who had fired the gun, wrote to his father thus: "If I am acquitted honorably, if Captain Barron is condemned, you may see me again. If not, never."--Poor Allen! No disgrace shall ever be attached to his name. He died of wounds received while bravely fighting on the deck of his own little vessel, the Argus, some years later, and he was buried in foreign soil by a guard of honor of his enemies, who appreciated his bravery and worth. As for the Chesapeake, her bad name clung to her. And of her end, there is much more to tell that will be told. But "Remember the Chesapeake" became a watchword. This was the beginning, that was the beginning of the end. [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |