1812: The Navy's War

by George Daughan

  IN THE NORTHWEST, meanwhile, General Harrison’s operations continued to be stymied. Without command of Lake Erie, his army was forced to remain on the defensive. Back in April, Major General Henry Proctor, still commandant at Fort Malden and still hated by the Americans for the massacre of Kentucky militiamen at the River Raisin, sailed up the Maumee and laid siege to Fort Meigs with 500 regulars, an equal number of militiamen, and 1,200 of Tecumseh’s warriors. Harrison’s ranks had been seriously depleted when Virginia, Kentucky, and Pennsylvania militiamen had gone home earlier, after their six months of service were up.

  Proctor dragged twenty-four-pounders and some smaller artillery to the heights overlooking the fort and opened fire on May 1. Harrison stoutly defended the fort, and he was heartened when on May 4 he saw 1,200 green Kentucky militiamen approaching. Half of them attacked the British batteries at great cost, while the rest scrambled into the fort with few casualties. With Harrison now strengthened, some Indians began drifting away, but many remained. Proctor, however, gave up the siege on May 9 and returned to Fort Malden, much to the disgust of Tecumseh. Harrison had lost far more men than Proctor, but he held the fort. The casualties he suffered made him less inclined to try retaking Detroit and capturing Fort Malden, unless the navy could establish supremacy on Lake Erie—at the moment an unlikely scenario.

  Harrison would not have to worry about attacking the British, however, for he was soon on the defensive again. Proctor made another, halfhearted attempt on Fort Meigs two months later but failed again. He then decided to attack Harrison’s supply depot at Fort Stephenson on the Sandusky River in Ohio—this time without Tecumseh’s support. Twenty-one-year-old Major George Croghan was in command at Fort Stephenson with only a hundred sixty men and a single piece of artillery. The fort was decrepit, but Croghan intended to make the most of what he had.

  Proctor sailed into Sandusky Bay and then up the river unopposed, landing eight hundred men on August 1, near what is today Fremont, Ohio. On the same day, Croghan received an unambiguous order from Harrison to evacuate. Harrison thought the fort was too vulnerable. Aware that Proctor had already landed, Croghan decided to stay put. He told Harrison that evacuating would be more dangerous than fighting. All the while, Croghan was preparing as strong a defense as he could. He had already evacuated the women, children, and sick, and he vowed to fight to the last man. “The example set me by my Revolutionary kindred is before me,” he wrote to a friend. “Let me die rather than prove unworthy of their name.” Croghan had inspired similar sentiments in the men who stood with him against seemingly impossible odds.

  Proctor attacked Fort Stephenson on August 2 and unexpectedly ran into stiff opposition. Croghan’s defenders put up such a ferocious fight that the British and Indians were forced back with heavy losses. Not wishing to endure more casualties, Proctor gave up and returned to his boats humiliated, sailing back to Fort Malden, where his supply problems were mounting. Harrison, who had been furious with Croghan for being insubordinate and had actually relieved him, was forced to restore him to command when the country hailed him as a great hero. Congress awarded Croghan a gold medal. He was the only bright spot in Harrison’s dismal performance during the first seven months of 1813.

  The failure to achieve any success against Canada during these months, except for the raids on York, shattered Madison’s overall strategy. Accepting the advice of Dearborn and Chauncey to attack York and the Niagara region before moving on Kingston had proven a terrible mistake. It allowed Lord Liverpool to avoid negotiations while he and his allies dealt with Napoleon, who was still very much a threat.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Chesapeake and the Shannon

  WHILE THE BRITISH were frustrating Madison along the Canadian frontier, the American blue-water fleet was running into difficulties its senior officers had long anticipated. Before the war began, Commodore Rodgers expressed a view generally held by his colleagues, that the navy would have the most success in the first months of the war. After that, the Royal Navy’s overwhelming numbers would drastically curtail American naval operations. At the start of the war, the light regard in London for the naval prowess of the United States helped the navy achieve a series of remarkable victories, but they in turn caused the Admiralty to deploy additional resources to the American theater, which made life even more difficult for the navy than Rodgers had anticipated.

  The British public clamored for the Royal Navy to destroy the maritime power of the United States, and the Admiralty kept pushing Admiral Warren to tighten his blockade along the coast. Their lordships pointed out to him that his failure to stop America’s warships and privateers from putting to sea forced the Royal Navy in the first weeks of 1813 to deploy two line-of-battle ships, two frigates, and more sloops of war around St. Helena and a similar assortment of warships in the neighborhood of Madeira and the Western Islands. The Admiralty demanded to know why Warren, with all the ships he had, allowed the Constitution , the President, the United States, the Congress, the Argus, and the Hornet to come and go as they pleased from Boston Harbor. On March 20, 1813, Croker wrote to Warren emphasizing again that all the American warships must be blockaded. If they were allowed to roam, the problem of finding them would be nearly impossible, making the convoying of merchant fleets far more difficult. Furthermore, if privateers by the hundreds were allowed to prowl, they would add an even greater hazard. A tight blockade of the entire coast was the only remedy. The Admiralty insisted that Warren include a 74-gun battleship in every blockading squadron outside an American port.

  Warren’s strengthening blockade necessitated Commodore Broke’s return from Halifax in late March to patrol off Boston in the 38-gun Shannon, accompanied by the 38-gun Tenedos, under Captain Sir Hyde Parker. They were part of a powerful squadron that was led by Captain Thomas Bladen in the 74-gun La Hogue and included the 38-gun Nymphe, under Captain Farmery P. Epworth.

  Bladen was anxious to prevent John Rodgers and the President from leaving Boston Harbor, but recurring thick fog gave Rodgers an opening, and on April 23 he stole out to sea unmolested to begin his third cruise of the war, accompanied by the Congress (Captain John Smith). Contrary winds kept the two frigates confined to Boston Bay for a few days, but when the wind turned fair, they broke out on the afternoon of May 3. Near the shoal of George’s Bank they passed to windward of the La Hogue and the Nymphe. Captain Bladen could not catch them, however, and they went on their way, splitting up and cruising singly after May 8.

  Having failed to stop the President and the Congress from putting to sea, Commodore Broke set his sights on the Chesapeake, which was preparing to sortie from Boston. He yearned to fight her one-on-one. While he was watching for his chance, the Admiralty, dismayed by American naval victories, was contemplating issuing an order to forbid any frigate from engaging the 44-gun American frigates alone. The order was not issued until July 10, 1813, however, and in any event, it would not have applied to the Chesapeake, since she was not among the larger class of American frigates.

  Broke was so anxious for a duel that during the last week of May he wrote a clever, insulting letter to Captain James Lawrence, the Chesapeake’s new skipper, challenging him to come out and fight, as if it were an affair of honor between the two men, rather than a battle that was sure to cause dozens of casualties. Broke sent a captured American prisoner to deliver his letter to Lawrence. The prisoner left it at the post office in Charlestown, but Lawrence never received it. The post office delivered it to Bainbridge by mistake, and he passed it on to Secretary Jones. Bainbridge was commandant of the Boston Navy Yard at the time, having turned command of the Constitution over to Charles Stewart.

  To emphasize how urgently he wanted a single-ship duel, Broke sent the Tenedoes away and made the Shannon conspicuous by sailing her just outside the harbor in plain view. Captain Lawrence did not need an inducement to fight; he was anxious to have it out with the Shannon. When Broke sent his challenge, Lawrence had been in Boston only a few days. He had receive
d orders from Secretary Jones on May 6, directing him to proceed to Boston and take command of the Chesapeake. Lawrence arrived in the city on May 18. His assignment was the most important the president had given to the seagoing navy. He was ordered to cruise in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, interdicting supply ships and troop transports making for Quebec, the principal port supplying British land forces in Canada. Madison’s invasion plans for Canada in the spring of 1813 would be helped immeasurably if Lawrence could seriously limit enemy provisions getting through to Quebec.

  It had taken Madison and Jones some time before they had settled on a new assignment for Lawrence. Since defeating the Peacock in February, he had become a national hero. To begin with, they appointed him commandant of the New York Navy Yard, which allowed him to be home with his wife and child. Jones then gave him command of the Constitution—as choice an assignment as the navy had to offer. But a short time later, Jones learned that the Constitution was not ready for sea and that the Chesapeake’s skipper, Samuel Evans, was seriously ill. Jones wanted the navy’s few warships put into action as soon as possible, and he considered Lawrence an ideal replacement for Evans. On the first of May he ordered Lawrence to take command of the Chesapeake, which was in Boston along with the Constitution.

  When he arrived in Boston, Lawrence went right to work, and two days later he reported to Jones that he found the Chesapeake “ready for sea.” He also told him that he had tried unsuccessfully to exchange ships with Captain Stewart. Lawrence evidently felt that Jones would have no trouble approving the switch. Despite his preference for the Constitution, Lawrence was eager to get to sea and into action, which is exactly what Jones wanted. Lawrence’s old ship, the Hornet, was to accompany him, but she was in New York, under James Biddle. Lawrence wrote to Biddle explaining his plans and places of rendezvous. The British were blockading New York, however, and getting to sea would be exceptionally difficult. Lawrence felt that if anyone could get the Hornet out, it was Biddle.

  Lawrence was pleased with all of the Chesapeake’s young but experienced officers. His first lieutenant was twenty-one-year-old Augustus Ludlow, who had never been first officer on a ship before but was a veteran seaman, having been in the navy since 1804. He had served aboard the President, the Constitution (where he was promoted to lieutenant), and the Hornet, and more importantly, he had been on two cruises in the Chesapeake. Ludlow was a replacement for four older officers: Lieutenants Page, Thompson, and Nicholson were sick, and Acting Lieutenant Pierce was such a troublemaker that Lawrence got rid of him immediately, reporting to Jones that Pierce could not get along with anyone in the wardroom. The absence of all these officers required two midshipmen to be promoted to acting lieutenant, William Cox and Edward J. Ballard. Like Ludlow, they were young and new to their jobs, but both had been in the service a long time, had served on the Chesapeake, and were ready for their new duties. The second lieutenant was George Budd.

  Lieutenant Ludlow wrote to his brother Charles that the Chesapeake was in better condition than he had ever seen her. Furthermore, her crew were all experienced seamen, except for the thirteen powder monkeys. Only 36 of the 379 men aboard were British seamen, and they appeared prepared to fight for their new country. Lawrence and Ludlow felt the crew was every bit as ready as the ship.

  By the thirtieth of May the Chesapeake was ready for action, and Lawrence weighed anchor, leaving Boston’s inner harbor and dropping down to President Roads off Long Island at the edge of the harbor, where he could spend a few days making final preparations for sea while keeping an eye out for the blockading squadron. Persistent fog and rain would likely give him enough cover to get to sea. The following morning, fog and rain, which had blanketed the area for the past few days, was still around. Instead of putting to sea, however, Lawrence left the ship and went into town for a luncheon. While he was there, he received word that a single British warship was off Boston Light. Deciding there was no immediate danger, he remained in town that night and rejoined his ship the following day.

  When Lawrence came aboard first thing in the morning, Lieutenant Budd reported that the Shannon was visible, and, as far as he could tell, she was alone. Lawrence climbed the main rigging to have a look for himself. By then, the weather had cleared. He came back satisfied that she was the Shannon. He hailed a pilot boat and sent her out to see if there were other enemy warships about, and then mustered all hands to tell them that if the Shannon were alone, he meant to engage her and urged them to do their patriotic duty. Some hands took the occasion to protest that they had not received their prize money from the last cruise, whereupon Lawrence ordered the purser to pay them.

  In deciding to fight the British ship, Lawrence was disregarding his orders to intercept supplies moving to Quebec. Lawrence’s mission was important to the war effort; he was ignoring it for a chance at personal glory. Even if he succeeded against the Shannon, he would have to return to Boston for extensive repairs that might take months, making it impossible to pursue an assignment the president believed was vital. In addition, Lawrence was risking one of the few warships in the American arsenal for no good reason.

  Going against the clear purport of his orders was not Lawrence’s only problem. Unlike many frigates in His Majesty’s service, the Shannon had a skipper who had been in command for seven years and a crew that had been with him for a long time. They were undoubtedly among the best in the Royal Navy. Lawrence would have his hands full.

  On Tuesday, June 1, at eight o’clock in the morning, Lawrence ordered the Chesapeake unmoored and then went to his cabin and scratched out two letters. To Secretary Jones he wrote, “My crew appear to be in fine spirits, and I trust will do their duty.” The second letter was to his wife’s brother, James Montaudevert. “An English frigate is close in with the lighthouse, and we are now clearing for action. Should I be so unfortunate as to be taken off, I leave my wife and children to your care.”

  At noon Lawrence hove out to sea with a light seasonal wind from the southwest. The Shannon immediately came into view, looking a bit shabby from having been on blockade duty for weeks. The Chesapeake, on the other hand, having just been refurbished, looked brand new.

  The two ships were evenly matched. The Chesapeake had fifty guns and 379 men. Her main battery was twenty-eight long eighteen-pounders on the gun deck, and on the spar deck above, she carried eighteen thirty-two-pound carronades, two long twelves, one long eighteen, and a twelve-pound carronade. The Shannon carried fifty-two guns and 330 men. Her main battery was twenty-eight long eighteen-pounders on the gun deck, and on the spar deck she carried sixteen thirty-two-pound carronades, four long nines, one long six, and three twelve-pound carronades. The officers and crews of both ships were experienced seamen, but Broke had a distinct advantage in that he had had command of his excellent crew for many years, while Lawrence was new to his men.

  The instant the Chesapeake hove into sight off Boston Light, Broke and his officers had telescopes trained on her, and when they saw her coming toward them, it was obvious that Lawrence had taken up the challenge. Broke could not have been more pleased. He moved out to a position twelve miles south-southwest of Cape Ann under easy sail. He wanted to be offshore for maneuverability and sufficiently far from Boston that Lawrence would not be aided by other vessels, although, by the look of things, the American captain did not want any help. He was sailing directly at Broke. At 4:30 the Shannon lay to with her head to the southeast, having just steerage way, waiting for the Chesapeake. Broke was under topsails, topgallants, jib, spanker, and even royals, since he expected the wind to die away. He was taking a big chance, leaving it in Lawrence’s power to begin the action in whatever way he chose.

  At five o’clock Lawrence ordered royals and topgallants taken in, and half an hour later, he had the courses hauled up. Under topsails and jibs, he came down fast with the weather gauge. Broke had done nothing to deprive him of it. Lawrence could now sail straight for the Shannon’s stern, rake her with a deadly broadside or two, and gain a decisi
ve advantage. Or, since he had more men than Broke, he could drive right up to the Shannon, firing as he went, and board. Instead, in what can only be described as a misguided act of chivalry, or a terrible mistake, Lawrence refused to exploit the opening Broke was giving him, and within forty-five minutes he rounded to within pistol shot (less than fifty yards), bringing the Chesapeake on a parallel course with the Shannon, setting up an artillery duel and playing to Broke’s strength.

  Because of the initial position Broke deliberately took, he was uncertain what direction Lawrence would take, until he saw the Chesapeake luffing up on the Shannon’s weather quarter and her foremast coming in a line with the Shannon’s mizzen. As she did, Broke fired his after guns and the others successively, until the Chesapeake came directly abreast. At that point, Lawrence unleashed his broadside. It was ten minutes to six. With the two ships continuing to run roughly parallel to each other, they unleashed terrifying broadsides, while from the tops their marksmen rained musket balls down on the enemy’s deck. The first shots from the Shannon damaged the Chesapeake’s rigging, killed the sailing master Mr. White, and wounded Lawrence. Seconds later, full broadsides tore into the Chesapeake and cut her foresail tie and jib sheet, rendering her headsails useless. The Chesapeake’s broadsides did considerable damage to the Shannon as well, but the British ship did not have key officers killed and her captain wounded so early in the fighting, nor have her steering compromised.

  The Chesapeake now shot up into the wind uncontrollably, presenting her stern and larboard quarter to the enemy, while making it impossible for Lawrence to bring more than one or two of his own guns to bear. Seeing the Chesapeake’s quarter presented to him, Broke unleashed devastating half-raking broadsides that tore into the quarterdeck, killing the men at the wheel and making the Chesapeake completely unmanageable. The wind now pushed her back toward the Shannon. Expecting the two ships to collide, Lawrence shouted, “Boarders away.” A bugler sounded the call to assemble, and Lieutenant Ludlow took command of them. Just then, a hand-grenade thrown from the Shannon landed on one of the Chesapeake’s arms chests on the quarter deck, exploding the contents in a terrifying roar. In moments, the Chesapeake—in irons, unable to steer—backed into the Shannon, her mizzen channels locking in with the Shannon’s fore rigging.