The impressment of American seamen into the English service had been continued despite remonstrances from our government, until the hatred for the sight of the cross of St. George that stirred the hearts of Yankee sailor men had passed all bounds. America under these conditions developed a type of patriot seafarer, and this fact may account for his manners under fire and his courage in all circumstances.
The United States was an outboard country, so to speak. We had no great interstate traffic, no huge, developed West to draw upon, to exchange and barter with. Our people thronged the seacoast, and vessels made of American pine and live-oak were manned by American men. They had sought their calling by choice, and not by compulsion. They had not been driven from crowded cities because they could not live there. They had not been taken from peaceful homes and wives and children by press-gangs, as was the English custom, to slave on board the great vessels that Great Britain kept afloat by such means, and such alone. But of his own free-will the Yankee sailor sought the sea, and of his own free-will he served his country. It would be useless to deny that the greater liberty, the higher pay, the large chance for reward, tempted many foreigners and many ex-servants of the king to cast their lot with us. But when we think that there were kept unwillingly on English vessels of war almost as many American seamen as were giving voluntary service to their country in our little navy, we can see on which side the great proportion lies.
It is easy to see that the American mind was a pent furnace. It only needed a few more evidences of England’s injustice and contempt to make the press and public speech roar with hatred and cry out for revenge. So when in June, 1812, war was declared against Great Britain, it was hailed with approbation and delight. But shots had been exchanged before this, and there were men who knew the value of seamanship, recognized the fact that every shot must tell, that every man must be ready, and that to the navy the country looked; for the idea of a great invasion by England was scouted. It was a war for the rights of sailors, the freedom of the high-seas, and the grand and never thread-worn principles of liberty.
So wide-spread had been the patriotism of our citizens during the revolutionary war that our only frigates, except those made up of aged merchant-vessels, had been built by private subscription; but now the government was awake, alert, and able.
To take just a glance at the condition of affairs that led up to this is of great interest.
So far back as the year 1798 the impositions of Great Britain upon our merchantmen are on record, and on November 16th of that year they culminated in a deliberate outrage and insult to our flag.
The U. S. ship of war Baltimore, of 20 guns, was overhauled by a British squadron, and five American seamen were impressed from the crew. At this time we were engaged in the quasiwar with France, during which the Constellation, under Captain Truxton, captured the French frigate L’Insurgent, of 54 guns. On February 1st, 1800, a year after the first action, the same vessel, under the same commander, captured La Vengeance, of 54 guns. On October 12th of the same year the U. S. frigate Boston captured the French corvette Le Berceau. Minor actions between the French privateers and our merchantmen occurred constantly. We lost but one of our national vessels, however — the schooner Retaliation, captured by two French frigates.
England was protecting the Barbary pirates in the Mediterranean at this time, in order to keep out competitive commerce — a fine bit of business! Europe and America bought immunity.
On June 10th, 1801, war was declared, however, by the Bashaw of Tripoli against the United States, because we failed to accede to his demands for larger tribute, and a brief summary of the conduct of this war will show plainly that here our officers had chances to distinguish themselves, and the American seamen won distinction in foreign waters.
Captain Bainbridge, in command of the frigate Philadelphia, late in August, 1803, captured off the Cape de Gatt a Moorish cruiser, and retook her prize, an American brig. About two months later the Philadelphia, in chase of one of the corsairs, ran on a reef of rocks under the guns of a battery, and after four hours’ action Bainbridge was compelled to strike his flag to the Tripolitans. For months, now, it was the single aim of the American squadron under Preble to destroy the Philadelphia, in order to prevent her being used against the United States, and on February 15th, 1804, this was successfully accomplished by Lieutenant Stephen Decatur and seventy volunteers, who entered the harbor on the ketch Intrepid, set fire to the Philadelphia, and escaped.
All through August Preble’s squadron hovered about the harbor of Tripoli, and bombarded the town on four separate occasions. On June 3d, 1805, he arranged a peace with the Tripolitans, and two days later Bainbridge and the American prisoners were liberated. But the bashaw could not control the piratical cruisers who made his harbor a rendezvous, and in September hostilities were again commenced, during which occurred the sad accident, the premature blowing up of the fire ship Intrepid, by which the navy lost Captain Richard Somers, one of its bravest officers, two lieutenants, and ten seamen.
But to return to the relations existing between America and England. A crisis was fast approaching. Off the shore of Maryland on June 22d, 1807, the crowning outrage attending England’s self-assumed “right of search” took place, when the British sloop of war Leopard, 50 guns, fired upon the Chesapeake, 36 guns, which vessel, under command of Captain Barron, had just shipped a green crew, and could return, owing to her unprepared condition, but one shot to the Englishman’s broadside. Barron hauled down his flag, and had to allow himself to be searched by the orders of Captain Humphries, commander of the Leopard, and four American-born seamen were taken out of his crew and sent on board the Englishman. It was claimed by Captain Humphries that three of these men were deserters from the British frigate Melampus. Although the Chesapeake had hauled down her flag and surrendered, the Leopard paid no attention to this, and sailed away, leaving Barron with three men killed and eighteen wounded, and his ship badly damaged in hull, spars, and rigging. Barron was censured by a court of inquiry and suspended from his command. Looking at this sentence dispassionately, it was most unjust.
But the indignation that was felt throughout the country over this affair wrought the temper of the people to a fever-heat. Congress passed resolutions, and the President of the United States issued a proclamation, forbidding all British armed vessels from entering the ports of the United States, and prohibiting all inhabitants of the United States from furnishing them with supplies of any description.
Great Britain’s disavowal of the act of Admiral Berkeley (under whose command Captain Humphries had acted) was lukewarm, and the Admiral’s trial was something of a farce, and gave little satisfaction to America.
Napoleon at about this time had begun his senseless closing of French ports to American vessels, and once more the French cruisers apparently considered all Yankee craft their proper prey. They would interrupt and take from them stores, water, or whatever they considered necessary, without remuneration or apology. As the English were taking our seamen and showing absolute contempt for our flag wherever found, the condition of our merchant marine was most precarious. No vessel felt secure upon the high seas, and yet the English merchant ships continued to ply their trade with us.
On May 1st, 1810, all French and English vessels of any description were prohibited from entering the ports of the United States. On June 24th of this year the British sloop of war Moselle fired at the U. S. brig Vixen, off the Bahamas, but fortunately did no damage. Another blow to American commerce just at this period was the closing of the ports of Prussia to American products and ships. But an event which took place on May 16th, 1811, had an unexpected termination that turned all eyes to England. The British frigate Guerrière was one of a fleet of English vessels hanging about our coasts, and cruising mainly along the New Jersey and Long Island shores. Commodore Rodgers was proceeding from Annapolis to New York in the President, 44 guns, when the news was brought to him by a coasting vessel that a young man, a native of New Jersey, had been taken from an American brig in the vicinity of Sandy Hook, and had been carried off by a frigate supposed to be the Guerrière. On the 16th, about noon, Rodgers