The Shining Sea (46 page)

Unfortunately, on the passage to the Big Island, the fates turned against Gamble once more. On June 13, 1814, he ran into a British warship of some size. Incredibly, she turned out to be none other than the 24-gun
Cherub
, fresh from her victory in Valparaiso. After the battle with the
Essex
, Hillyar had ordered the
Cherub
's Captain Tucker to take on board provisions for five months and race to the Sandwich Islands “to use your utmost endeavor to distress the enemy by capture or destruction of his vessels.” Hillyar had gotten word that American merchantmen had congregated there, waiting for the war to end.

In spite of Gamble's protestations, Tucker seized the articles Gamble was transporting for the Hawaiians, including a valuable canoe. The goods were intended as tribute for their king. It was obvious that Tucker's principal object was not capturing American merchantmen but enriching himself in any way he could before returning to Valparaiso and then Rio de Janeiro. After robbing the Hawaiians, Tucker moved on to the island of Kauai, looking for more booty. He was in luck. The American merchant vessel
Charon
was there and was easily captured. Goods from other vessels were deposited on the island as well, which Tucker took, stuffing as much as he could into the
Cherub
.

On July 15, Tucker departed Hawaii and traveled to Tahiti, where he expected to find refreshment of every sort for himself and his crew—but not for their American prisoners. He had little consideration for Gamble, and even less for his men, who were robbed and cruelly handled. “My men were treated in a most shameful manner,” Gamble reported.

Tucker departed Tahiti on August 23 with the
Sir Andrew Hammond
, the
Charon
, and the
Cherub
and stood east for a month, dropping anchor in Valparaiso on September 23. An English brig and the
Montezuma
, one of Porter's first prizes, were anchored in the port, along with several Spanish vessels, and to Gamble's surprise and chagrin, the old Spanish flag was flying above the forts. Gamble and Midshipman Clapp were allowed to go ashore, but not the rest of their men. Gamble and Clapp went immediately to the home of the American deputy vice consul, Mr. Blanco, who had been of such service to Porter. To his great surprise, Gamble discovered that as many as twenty (the exact number was uncertain) of the
Essex
's old crew were still living in difficult conditions in the city. Some of them had even enlisted in the Chilean army. When Porter learned about them much later, he thought they were the men who had jumped overboard or otherwise fled the
Essex
during her monumental battle with the
Phoebe
. He had no sympathy for them. As far as he was concerned, they had brought their problems on themselves by their own misconduct.

On October 18, 1814, the
Cherub
left Valparaiso Bay with her two prizes and the prisoners bound for Rio. Tempestuous rain and hailstorms plagued them as they rounded Cape Horn. They got around, however, arriving in Rio on November 28. Gamble and Midshipman Clapp were allowed to leave the ship, but no other prisoners could. Tucker kept them on board until December 14, when, Gamble recalled, “the prisoners were sent ashore, having received the most rigorous treatment from Captain Tucker during their long confinement in his ship, and the greater part of them, like the natives, left destitute of everything, save the clothes on their backs.” Gamble found sixty American prisoners of war in Rio, being kept track of by Thomas Sumter Jr., the American minister. Like all the others, Gamble had only one thought in mind—going home, but Sumter offered little hope of getting them there quickly.

Gamble did not leave Rio until May 15, 1815. Midshipman Clapp and five men accompanied him. Another man had died of smallpox. During
the voyage, one of the men died, but the others reached New York on August 27, 1815, after a passage of one hundred days that took them first to France. A few days later, Gamble wrote long letters to Porter and to Secretary of the Navy Crowninshield, explaining what had happened to him and his men after the
Essex
and
Essex Junior
left Nuku Hiva on December 13, 1813.

Porter's guilt at his treatment of Gamble was pronounced. He tried to make up for it by lavishly praising him, but the record of Porter's hubris and bad judgment and their consequences for Gamble and his men could not be erased.

E
PILOGUE

FOUR LIVES AFTER THE WAR

D
ESPITE
D
AVID
P
ORTER
'
S SHORTCOMINGS, WHEN HE RETURNED
home from the Pacific, the great majority of his countrymen greeted him as a hero, as did President Madison. The war was going badly for the president in 1814. Defeatism was widespread, and London was reacting to the abdication of Napoleon on April 14, 1814, as though Britain now had the capacity to work her will on the United States in a short time with relatively few resources.

Madison, with good reason, feared a large-scale invasion that would have incalculable consequences. The British were still furious with America for declaring war in June 1812 when they were most vulnerable to Napoleon. In the spring of 1814, after Napoleon had abdicated unconditionally, a vengeful Britain intended to crush the United States and permanently weaken her. Madison vowed to resist the British to the last. Remembering the sacrifices he had observed as a young man being borne during the War of Independence, he was not about to give in. In the darkest moments of the Revolutionary War, Washington had been determined to fight on no matter what. He would never submit. Madison was of that mind now in the darkest hour of the War of 1812. Porter's spirited defense of the
Essex
struck a responsive chord in the president, who was determined never to
give in himself.
Madison overlooked Porter's failings and concentrated on his brave resistance, declaring in his Message to Congress in 1814, that the loss of the
Essex
was

hidden in the blaze of heroism with which she was defended. Captain Porter, . . . whose previous career had been distinguished by daring enterprise and by 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 of its safety.

It was a handsome tribute. No one could gainsay that those who fought the battle in Valparaiso were heroes; these were men who did their duty in an exemplary manner, and who deserved the plaudits of their countrymen. Whether the
Essex
should or should not have been where she was at the time was beside the point. The example of the men who defended her was what stood out. They created a brilliant legacy for those who came after them.

W
HILE
P
RESIDENT
M
ADISON WAS USING THE EXPLOITS OF THE
Essex
men to help rally the country during the difficult summer and fall of 1814, no one imagined that the war would be over by the end of the year. The assumption that the fighting would go on into 1815 and beyond was universal. David Porter, John Downes, David Farragut, and James Hillyar expected to be engaged in the struggle for a long time. At most they anticipated a brief furlough before receiving new orders to go back into battle.

When the peace treaty was signed on December 24, 1814, in Ghent, Belgium, and the war ended abruptly, the four officers were completely surprised. So was the president. He was also extremely grateful. For him, having to carry on the fight when the country desperately wanted peace was an uninviting prospect. In fact, he had been trying hard to end the war since at least February 1813, when it had become clear that his strategy
wasn't working. Napoleon had been defeated in Russia, taking the pressure off Britain to negotiate an end to the war with America, and the Canadian invasion that Madison had initiated and persisted in had been repulsed with minimal effort from London.

No matter how much Madison desired peace during 1813 and 1814, however, the British would not oblige him. They were angry that he had declared war in June 1812 when they were most vulnerable to Napoleon. As far as they were concerned, Madison had stabbed them in the back when their very existence was at risk, and they intended to repay him by permanently weakening America. They changed their minds, however, in the fall of 1814. In that season it became obvious, after American victories at Fort Erie, Plattsburgh, and Baltimore, that the United States was too strong to be easily subdued, and that Europe's problems would continue to occupy Britain for years. Given this new reality, the prime minister, Lord Liverpool, his foreign minister, Lord Castlereagh, and their cabinet colleagues moved quickly to end the war. They did not want to be fighting the United States while they were tied down on the European continent.

The peace that Liverpool obtained was widely popular in Britain, where people were dead tired of war. They had been fighting the French since January 1793. Their only respite had been during the period of the Treaty of Amiens, which lasted only fourteen months, from March 1802 until May of the following year.

The United States was as ready to end the fighting as the British, if not more so, and when the peace treaty arrived in Washington in February 1815, it was greeted with universal applause.

Terminating the war did not mean the careers of Porter, Hillyar, Downes, and Farragut, were ending, however. Relatively young when they returned home as heroes, they could look forward to prominent roles in the futures of their navies. As it turned out, though, only three, Downes, Farragut, and Hillyar realized their potential. David Porter never achieved the prominence that everyone expected of him. Following the war, he served for nine years at the highest levels of the navy, and was a respected figure. But then he became embroiled in a controversy that he exacerbated, escalating it unnecessarily into a confrontation with his superiors that led
him to resign forever from the navy he loved, and even leave the country more or less permanently.

J
OHN
D
OWNES DID NOT EXPERIENCE THE SAME UNFORTUNATE
fate as David Porter. His career was notable for steady advancement and continuing respect from his peers. His remarkable performance in the Pacific did not go unnoticed. Fearless, charismatic, intelligent, steadfast in the performance of his duty, Downes was recognized throughout the rest of his life as one of the navy's preeminent officers.
His close friend Isaac Hull described him as “one of our most respectable and amiable commanders.”
David Porter, to his credit, never lost an opportunity to praise Downes. Although while serving together, Porter never consulted him about strategy, and handed him unusual, often difficult assignments, he constantly sang his praises.

In recognition of Downes's accomplishments, the navy promoted him to master commandant in July 1813, although he did not receive the good news until he returned from the Pacific. The secretary of the navy acknowledged Downes's outstanding abilities again when he awarded him command of the 18-gun brig
Epervier
in 1815. It was a choice assignment. The
Epervier
would be part of a ten-ship squadron, the most powerful yet assembled under the American flag. Commodore Stephen Decatur was leading it to the Mediterranean to quash Algeria, which had been at war with the United States since 1812, trying to take advantage of America's preoccupation with Britain. Decatur also intended to chastise the other three Barbary pirate states—Tripoli, Tunis, and Morocco—at the same time.

Decatur's squadron sailed from New York on May 20, 1815. A month later, on June 17, Downes played an important part in capturing the 46-gun super-frigate
Mashuda
, the most powerful Algerian warship. Two days later, Decatur fell in with the 22-gun Algerian brig
Estido
, which fled into shallow waters. He sent Downes in the
Epervier
, supported by the brig
Spark
, and the schooners
Torch
and
Spitfire
after her. They quickly brought her to. Decatur then moved on with his squadron to Algiers, where he dictated peace. He then turned on the other Barbary states and forced them to agree to peace as well, ushering in a new era in the Mediterranean. Downes provided invaluable help throughout.
Decatur was so impressed with him that he made him skipper of his flagship
Guerierre
.

After returning home, Downes was promoted to captain on March 5, 1817 and given command of the frigate
Macedonian
. At the end of the following year he sailed her on an important mission to South America, where he remained until 1821, performing superbly under tough conditions. His job was to protect American shipping along the western coast of South America, particularly the coasts of Chile and Peru, where the fighting between monarchists and patriots was still going on. After Chile had declared independence in 1818, General San Martín used it as a base from which to attack royalist Peru. He was aided by former British captain Thomas Cochrane (the model for Patrick O'Brian's Jack Aubrey).