Читать книгу The Naval War of 1812 - Cecil Louis Troughton Smith - Страница 7

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AT the time of the declaration of war a large part of the American Navy was not ready for sea; the Administration had not been capable of coping with the tiresome details of management. The two-year period of enlistment had proved to be a handicap (effective though it was as a stimulant to recruiting) to a government which was shortsighted and improvident; the crews which had been enlisted at the time of increasing tension in 1810 were due for discharge in 1812 and no steps had been taken in advance to replace them. Captain Isaac Hull with the Constitution lay in the Chesapeake at Annapolis collecting a new crew. It was not until three weeks after the declaration of war that he was able to sail, even though he was in a fever of impatience to get away—he, like Rodgers, feared the instant arrival of a superior British blockading force; and the Chesapeake was geographically an easier point to watch by a blockading fleet than the New England coast.

Hull was a man not yet forty. He had served his apprenticeship in the mercantile marine; for two years he had been a lieutenant in the Constitution and had won notice in command of a brilliant expedition which had cut out a French privateer on the Santo Domingo coast during the undeclared war with France. He had been commander of the Argus in the Tripolitan War, and now for six years—a remarkably long time—he had been captain of his old ship, the Constitution, much of that time at sea. With war declared he was in no doubt as to the use to which he should put his command. He received the news, which travelled slowly overland, that Rodgers had put to sea from New York, and at the earliest moment possible he headed in that direction in accordance with his orders from the Secretary of the Navy. He had no certainty of Rodgers’s plans, but he could be sure that the addition of the Constitution to Rodgers’s force would not make their execution more difficult. In fact, with the Constitution added to his squadron, Rodgers could well have thought himself superior to Broke in strength if he had been able to obtain particulars of Broke’s force, the Africa and all. The imagination is heated at the thought of that possible fleet action off Sandy Hook.

But Rodgers was at this moment heading for the Azores from the approaches to the Channel, and Broke was off New York in force. Off where Atlantic City now stands—an almost uninhabited island at that time—Hull sighted, in the afternoon of July 17, when he was five days out from the Chesapeake, the sails of ships-of-war. They could well have been Rodgers’s squadron, if Rodgers were acting in accordance with the orders sent from Washington, which he had not received, and which commanded him to cruise to the southward from New York. The wind was weak and variable; the afternoon lengthened into evening and night fell without contact being made. There were four ships towards the land, and a fifth farther out to sea, exactly the number Hull could expect to find under Rodgers’s command. Hull was cautious; at nightfall he beat to quarters and kept away from the shore, heading for the more isolated ship.

She was the British frigate Guerrière, Captain James Dacres; the other four, of course, were the rest of Broke’s squadron. The Guerrière was rejoining after being separated; she was off an enemy’s coast, and a hostile force—Rodgers’s—was known to be at sea; in the failing light Dacres was bound to be as cautious as Hull was being. His fears were confirmed when the ship that was bearing down on him in the darkness made lantern signals to him which he could not understand. They were not the British recognition signals. He kept his distance until the first light of dawn, when he edged down upon the stranger, which by now he could not doubt was an American frigate. It was his duty to engage her; if she was of greatly superior force he must at least keep in close touch with her, and if possible disable her to give his consorts a chance to overtake her. He was within very distant cannon-shot when he sighted, down to leeward, the rest of Broke’s force. He identified himself to them and received no answer, for reasons which are obscure to this day. Likely enough Broke took it for granted that Dacres knew who he was; it is equally likely that Dacres’ signals were read by the Belvidera—probably the nearest frigate—and were not seen by Broke’s ship, the Shannon, although the Belvidera assumed that they had been and left it to the senior officer to reply. Dacres thus found himself within range of a powerful American frigate and between her and four unknown ships—and Rodgers was known to be at sea with five ships. Dacres could hardly be blamed for turning tail and doing his best to extricate himself from a situation potentially disastrous. So the great opportunity of bringing the Constitution to action passed in a few minutes. Hull, even though the Guerrière’s movements puzzled him, could have no doubt that he was in the presence of Broke’s squadron and not Rodgers’s, and he turned his stern to the four ships and made the best of his way away from them. The wind was still light and variable; he could foresee a long chase, and he hurried his preparations for it. Cutting away part of his taffrail he was able to point a 24-pounder and a long 18 directly aft, and two more 24-pounders through his cabin windows. Moving these prodigious weights of iron called for great exertions on the part of his men, but they were only a foretaste of what was to come. Already the breeze had died away, and he set his boats to tow the lumbering hulk which was the Constitution in the absence of a wind.

Then came the lightest of breezes, and Hull set all sail. The most careful organization and good seamanship were required to get in the boats while the ship was under way; with the enemy only half a mile out of range an accident could be fatal, especially as a pursuer could well, if an opportunity presented itself, leave a boat behind to be picked up by a following friendly ship. For half an hour the breeze held. When Hull had been first lieutenant of this same ship she had won a race with a British frigate and a wager for her captain. After six years of command he knew his ship’s best points of sailing; and at the end of her last commission she had been hove down and cleaned, and had not since had time to grow foul. He had four frigates after him now, and utter destruction as well, in the shape of the Africa, hull-up over the horizon astern. Broke himself, in the Shannon, caught a fortunate flaw of wind and actually came near enough to try a few long shots, but they fell short. Then the breeze died away to nothing, the ships all lying motionless on a glassy sea in the growing heat of the July sun. Out went the boats again, and the dreadful toil at the oars recommenced.

A signal from Broke had summoned to the Shannon boats from the rest of the squadron, all helping to tow his ship forward. It was a dangerous development. At this moment Hull’s first lieutenant came up with a suggestion—Charles Morris, who as a midshipman had been the first man to board the Philadelphia when Decatur burned her in Tripoli harbour. He had ingenuity as well as courage. Soundings had revealed that the ship was only in twenty-six fathoms of water, a mere hundred and fifty feet. The hands who were not at the oars were now set to work rousing out cables and rope, joining all together. While the long line was being completed a cutter was recalled from towing; a kedge anchor was got out and suspended from a strong-back in her, aft—the activity on the Constitution’s deck at this moment must have been something to see. The cable was loaded down into the cutter, and away she went under her oars, laying out the cable behind her. With the cable fully out the suspending line was cut, and the kedge dropped to the bottom. Then in the Constitution the capstan bars were manned and the ship was hauled by brute force up to the anchor. Meanwhile a second cable had been prepared, a second kedge suspended in a second cutter, and sent ahead. As the Constitution passed over the first kedge and it was hauled up and hung again in the first cutter the second kedge was dropped, the nippers clapped on, and the ship hauled forward without losing the way she had acquired.

Given comparatively shallow water, it was a far more efficient method of propelling the ship than tugging her along by oared boats—given also the necessary seamanship and coolness of head, for the possibility of a small blunder that could cost a fatal ten minutes’ delay was more than slight. It was only the ship that was being pursued that could make use of the method at decisive ranges; the four long guns pointing aft from the Constitution’s stern forbade its use by the pursuing ship as soon as she drew near, because at small distances the pursuing ship’s boat taking her kedge forward would come within cannon-shot. And it must be remembered that if the Guerrière had stayed within the long gunshot of the Constitution, where she had found herself at dawn, nothing of the sort could have been attempted. The Guerrière would have kept the Constitution from launching her boats while Broke’s other ships worked up to her. As it was, the Constitution managed to draw away from the Shannon despite the number of boats which were towing the British ship.

An hour of this work and a little wind came; boats and kedges had to be hoisted in. A few minutes of wind and then calm again; out went boats and kedges once more, for another hour’s work over the glassy sea, the stillness only broken by occasional cannon shots as the pursuers tried the range and found it just too great, and as the pursued warned the enemy’s boats not to come too close. To the southward a cat’s-paw of wind was seen creeping over the surface of the sea towards the Constitution’s port bow. The yards were braced round, the boats were warned, and she was ready as soon as the breeze reached her, to gain a few priceless feet before the breeze reached the pursuing ships. The breath of wind was hardly more than a breath; as it died away out went the boats again, and Hull had to make up his mind to a serious sacrifice. There was the drinking-water on board; ten tons of it made an inch difference in the Constitution’s draft, and if the Constitution drew an inch less she might make a hundred yards better progress in half a day’s work when a hundred yards could mean the difference between safety and destruction; but the sacrifice would have to be made now, at this moment—it would be no use regretting not having made it later on when the ship was under fire. So the water was started and the pumps set to work to pump it overside, ten tons of it; ten days’ supply at a minimum ration, which meant that if the Constitution eventually got away her useful career would be shortened by that time.

The Shannon was steadily advancing, towed by a dozen boats; kedging and towing in the frightful heat the Constitution just maintained her lead. Another breeze and another calm; this time the breeze just suited the Belvidera’s best point of sailing and she gained considerably—it was the Belvidera which had out-sailed the President less than a month before. Captain Byron in the Belvidera began to resort to kedging as well, as long as her boats were out of range of the Constitution’s guns. In mid-afternoon the breeze returned, and lasted for four blessed hours, only the faintest breeze, but enough to make kedging unnecessary. It brought a change of labour. Now the sails had to be kept wet, for a wet sail holds more of the wind than a dry one. Water had to be hoisted up from the sea to the towering height of the Constitution’s yards, and spilled down the sails. Even in the humidity that prevailed—the humidity that made the labour so exhausting—the rate of evaporation from that area of canvas made it necessary that the work should be hard and continuous.

From mid-afternoon until nightfall the ships crept along with the breeze, no British ship contriving to gain the half mile which was all that was necessary to open a crippling fire, and then with the setting of the sun the breeze died away again and kedging and towing had to be resumed in the hot night. By midnight the breeze had returned, the boats were got in once more, and the ships crept on through the darkness; not too dark to conceal the Belvidera gaining a little on them. But with the breeze holding steady although light the Belvidera was right to leeward; even though she was abeam of the Constitution she would not be able to close unless she gained a much greater distance so that she could tack and intercept. At daylight she made her attempt, coming about in an effort to close. It was a situation that called for careful judgment of time and distance on the part of Hull, because another light frigate, the Aeolus, had found the breeze to her liking during the night and had closed considerably, and was on the weather quarter. Hull waited half an hour and then put the Constitution about. The half hour following was a time of tense excitement in slow motion as the three ships crept along with bare steerage way, the Belvidera and Constitution just out of cannon-shot of each other, the Aeolus, close-hauled, trying to anticipate the Constitution to windward, every ship keeping the hands at work at the endless labour of wetting the sails, and every captain watching as the bearings slowly altered. A shift in the wind, or a variation in its strength—and anything was possible in that weather—could change the whole situation in five minutes. But as the minutes passed the bearings of the two British ships as taken from the Constitution moved slowly aft. She was drawing ahead of the Belvidera, and weathering on the Aeolus. The British frigates had made their pounce and had missed.

The wind continued steady, even freshening a little, and the slow race went on as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Soon there was a moment of fresh excitement, when a strange sail came up over the horizon to windward, heading directly for them. She was identified quickly enough as an American merchantman, homeward-bound, and there was a possibility that she would sail straight into the British arms. Byron hoisted American colours—to encourage her to do so; Hull promptly hoisted British colours, and one sight of those was enough for the merchantman. He put his wheel hard down and proceeded to claw his way to windward out of reach of the creeping ships.

The Constitution gained by slow inches on her pursuers as the hours dragged on monotonously, the sheaves wailing in the blocks as water was hauled up to the yards and spilled down upon the ever-drying canvas, with the yards continually being trimmed to the inch with every small shift of the wind, and while weary men and officers, after twenty-four hours of violent exertion and extreme excitement, tried, during their watch below, to snatch a little rest despite the continuing emotion of the situation. The Belvidera was now dead astern, and a full two miles out of gunshot; the other British frigates were farther off still, and farther to leeward, for the Constitution had eaten her way up to windward more successfully than they, and the Africa, the lumbering ship-of-the-line, was hull down to leeward, in the absence of the strong gale which alone would have given her any chance at all to close with the American ship.

During the afternoon the Constitution little by little increased her lead; even the Belvidera was being left not merely behind but to leeward, whether the tantalizing breeze freshened or moderated. The sun was setting and night approaching fast when the first real squall approached. Hull, to windward, had the first warning of it, and had all hands at their stations and his orders given before it reached the Constitution. With the first puff he clewed up, got in his light canvas, reefed his heavy canvas. The squall passed astern, blotting the Constitution from the sight of the British frigates in the gathering night. Hull sheeted home as the violence of the squall died away; under all plain sail, close-hauled, the Constitution made eleven knots for some exhilarating minutes. The squall reached the British frigates and passed on, revealing them once again to the telescopes on board the Constitution. The British captains had not been quite as fore-handed; the British crews not quite as smart. During the interval the Constitution had both head-reached and weathered upon her pursuers. The Belvidera was several miles away, and two points to leeward now; the wind, blowing from the Constitution to the Belvidera, interposed a barrier between pursuer and pursued no less impenetrable than it was invisible.

Even so, the danger was not at an end. In the darkness the wind died away steadily again, with every ship setting more sail the instant it became possible, until the Constitution once more had every inch of canvas spread, and until once more the weary work was resumed of wetting the sails, all through the night, the second night of the long pursuit, the third night of the long encounter. The night-glasses trained from the Belvidera towards the Constitution had increasing difficulty in picking her out in the surrounding darkness; it had to be regretfully admitted that the Constitution was still slowly gaining on them, and at the end of the weary night the beginnings of dawn confirmed the conclusion. The Constitution was hardly in sight, having run her pursuers down almost over the horizon, and the British squadron was strung out in a long straggling line with the Africa far behind; there was no sign of any change in the weather which might make the race even.

Soon the last gleam of the Constitution’s upper sails vanished over the horizon. Pursuit was hopeless now, with the chase able to alter course without being seen, and Broke called his ships together and abandoned the pursuit. He had gained no credit from the incident; even if—as seems certain—the Constitution was superior to all the British ships at every point of sailing there had been found nowhere in the British squadron any ingenuity or inventiveness or moral drive sufficient to overcome that handicap in the face of the very high standard of Hull’s professional accomplishments and the seamanlike qualities of his crew—who, it must always be remembered, had had only five days at sea in their present enlistment. Their organization and handling by Hull and his officers must have been excellent; there were numerous periods during the chase when a gain of a mile by any one of three British frigates would have meant disaster, and a single muddle or mistake or error in seamanship, at a time when every man on board was hard at work, could have brought about the necessary delay.

Now Hull and the Constitution were free; they had vanished over Broke’s horizon, and Broke had to decide what to do next; the disappearance of the Constitution forced him back at once from a stimulating and active tactical offensive to an anxious and wearisome strategical defensive. Broke knew that Hull and Rodgers were now both at sea; what was going on also at Boston, and what had happened in New York during the past few days, were hard questions for Broke to answer. But Broke also knew that a homeward-bound West Indian convoy—not the one Rodgers believed himself to be pursuing—had recently left the Caribbean and was now in Gulf Stream waters under the convoy of a single frigate, within easy striking distance of Hull, and perhaps of Rodgers too, whose whereabouts were quite unknown to him. What Broke would have chosen to do, if he had been free to choose, was to break up his squadron and station one ship at least off each principal part of the eastern seaboard. By that means he could intercept the returning American merchant ships; and he could not doubt that American privateers were fitting out feverishly, anxious to get to sea and reap a harvest of British shipping. It was far easier—the experience of many years of Continental warfare proved it—to catch them emerging from their home ports than to hunt them down at sea.

He did not dare do anything of the kind; with Rodgers at sea he had to keep his squadron united. The most he could do was to watch one single American harbour. Up to the declaration of war the Admiralty had maintained on the Halifax station what might be thought an adequate force, stronger than the whole American Navy, considerably stronger if measured by the simple arithmetic of counting heads, but the first moves of the war revealed the weakness of the apparently adequate force when opposed to an enemy enjoying the advantages conferred by an extensive coast and many possible bases, and commanded by men of the quality of Rodgers and Hull.

In the actual event Broke decided not to watch even one American harbour at the moment. A West Indian convoy was too valuable to risk—Rodgers had reached the same conclusion on the opposite side—and Broke elected to guard the present one rather than blockade New York or Boston or the Delaware or the Chesapeake. The fact that the convoy reached home waters without sighting an enemy does not prove that Broke was wrong, any more than the corresponding fact that Rodgers did not sight a convoy while he crossed the Atlantic proves that Rodgers was wrong. Broke had to balance possible losses against possible gains. He quitted the American coast and the next seven weeks were spent covering the West Indian convoy and returning to New York.

During those seven weeks he encountered another of the difficulties which inevitably plague the commanding officer of a blockading squadron. He could not keep his ships at sea indefinitely. Even if Sawyer at Halifax could find storeships for him, and even if those storeships could run the gauntlet of the American privateers, and even if they could guess where he was—all of which were doubtful—his ships would wear out slowly, would grow foul, would need repairs and refitting, and supplies that a storeship could not bring. This tiresome limitation on his freedom had to be dealt with by prevision. Ships had to be sent in one by one, in rotation, to complete with stores and carry out necessary refitting, or else the commanding officer might at length find himself with all his ships unfit for service simultaneously.

Three weeks after abandoning the pursuit of the Constitution, when Broke quitted the West Indian convoy and turned back towards the American coast, he detailed one of his frigates to go into Halifax and fit herself again for a further prolonged period at sea. It was the most economical course he could follow; the frigate would be away from his squadron for the least possible time. She headed for Halifax, he for New York. For three days after parting company the frigate held her course for Halifax without incident, but very slowly, with constant head winds. Her name was the Guerrière.