Chapter XII: Naval Heroes of the War of 1812


A GROUP of pitchers, tall, yellow and melon-shaped, record in the illustrations on their sides stories of the heroes and engagements of the infant navy of the Republic. The Liverpool potters, when the new frigates of the United States began to visit their harbor, turned their attention to "Sailor Pitchers," decorating them with pictures of British and American sailor lads grasping hands in friendship, or with sketches of full-rigged vessels flying the American flag, and inscribing them with appropriate legends, such as: "May They Ever Be United," "The True Blooded Yankee," "Success to the Infant Navy of America," etc.; or, with jingles of which the following are typical:
From Rocks and Sands
And every ill,
May God preserve
The Sailor still.

No more I'll roam,
I'll stay at home,
To sail no more
From shore to shore;
But with my wife
Lead a happy, peaceful life.
Lonely Jack, strolling the streets of Liverpool in search of a gift to carry home to sweetheart or wife in some far-away New England village, was pleased to find the attractive souvenirs and gave his hard-earned shillings for them. One such pitcher, carefully preserved since that time, is entitled "The Sailor's Return," and presents a young sailor husband come home from the sea, his happy wife beside him and their infant in his arms; the lines underneath the sketch doubtless are intended to voice his sentiments:
I now the joys of life renew,
From care and trouble free,
And find a wife who's kind and true,
To drive life's cares away.

Soon after the differences between France and the United States, which came to an issue in the year 1799, had been fought out in the southern seas, the English exploited on their pottery the congratulatory legend, "Success to the Infant Navy of America." A set of Liverpool pitchers is yet in existence which voice this sentiment in a spirited print of a naval engagement accompanied with the explanatory description: "L'lnsurgente French Frigate of 44 guns and 411 men striking her Colours to the American Frigate Constitution, Commodore Truxton, of 40 guns, after an action of an hour and a half in which the former had 75 men killed & wounded & the latter one killed & three wounded, Feb. 20th., 1799."

Commodore Truxton's capture of both l'Insurgente and La Vengeance was almost as keen a source of delight to Englishmen as it was to the people of the United States, the English Government in honor of the feat presenting the successful Commodore with many tokens of esteem, including a service of silver plate—an expression of generosity no doubt bitterly regretted in the years immediately following, when that same "Infant Navy" scored such brilliant "Success" turned against the British battle fleet.

The efforts of American sailors in ridding the high seas of the hated and feared African pirates who were levying tribute upon civilized countries next inspired the potters to print portraits of Commodores Bainbridge, Decatur and Preble. Looking upon their faces, what stirring scenes are called to mind: how, in the year 1800, Bainbridge, then a youth of 26, was sent by the United States Government with the vessel George Washington to carry the annual tribute money to the dey of Algiers; how, when he arrived, the dey forced him to play errand boy, hoist the Algerian flag at the main of the George Washington (which he promptly hauled down as soon as he had cleared the harbor) and sail to Constantinople with gifts for the sultan of Turkey, the overlord of the Barbary States. To his surprise, Captain Bainbridge was received by the Sultan with honor as a representative of a new nation, and was presented with a passport to insure respectful treatment in all the Sultan's domains. Armed with this powerful weapon, Bainbridge, upon his return to Algiers, refused to enter the harbor or to make a second voyage for the dey, and he so frightened the Algerian potentate into respect that he was even permitted to rescue and carry away some French exiles in the city—for which service he received the thanks of Napoleon.

Captain Bainbridge's second adventure among the Barbary Corsairs was more disastrous than the first. Before three years had gone by, he was again in the waters of the Mediterranean, this time as captain of the Philadelphia, one of a small squadron of American fighting vessels under command of Captain Preble of the flagship Constitution. In order to overawe the insolence of the pirates, Preble sent Bainbridge to blockade the harbor of Tripoli. Sighting a vessel of the enemy ahead, Bainbridge was giving chase in the shallow water near the coast, when suddenly his ship ran upon a hidden rock in twelve feet of water. All efforts were made to back the Philadelphia off the reef, even her guns being heaved overboard and her foremast cut away. These measures being of no avail, and the vessels of the enemy approaching, orders were given to bore holes in the ship's bottom, drown the magazine and destroy everything which would be of service to the pirates. Bainbridge and his men were taken prisoners and carried before the pasha, and for nineteen months they languished in the dungeons of Tripoli. Two days after the disaster the Philadelphia was floated by the pirates at high tide, her guns were raised and remounted, and she was towed, as good as ever, into the harbor of Tripoli—a prize of immense value.

Then followed the thrilling feat which will ever be associated with the names of Decatur and Preble. The daring scheme was proposed to fire the Philadelphia lying at her moorings in the harbor, and from among the many volunteers for the hazardous task, Commodore Preble selected Decatur. With a crew of picked men, a supply of combustibles and a Sicilian pilot who knew the waters of the harbor, Decatur boarded a ketch, a small vessel which had been captured from the pirates and renamed the Intrepid. They waited outside until evening, then quietly stole into the harbor; scarcely a man was to be seen on deck, for they wished to allay suspicion of being taken for a vessel of war, and to all appearance the little ketch was only a pirate ship making for port before nightfall. The watchword "Philadelphia" had been passed among them so they might be able to recognize one another should danger arise. A gentle breeze wafted them over the smooth water towards the huge bulk of the Philadelphia lying at her moorings and sharply outlined against the white walls of the city. The men aboard the Philadelphia spied the approaching vessel and called out to know her errand. The Intrepid's pilot, instructed by Decatur, answered that they had lost their anchors in a gale and wished to tie up to the frigate until morning. Permission was given, a rope passed, and the ketch made fast to the Philadelphia, when suddenly rang loud and clear over the water the cry, "Americanos!" They were discovered. Decatur and his men leaped aboard the frigate, struck down those who had not jumped overboard in their fright, scattered combustibles through the ship and kindled the flames, and in exactly twenty minutes from the time they boarded the Philadelphia they were again on the Intrepid, ropes cut and the men pulling for the open sea, three rousing cheers echoing through the harbor. But danger was not yet past: the enemy turned the guns of the battery in their direction, and the heated guns of the Philadelphia pointed their way—but no shot reached them as they sped to safety. With this deed, which Lord Nelson declared "the most bold and daring of the age," the infant navy of the United States made its bow to all the nations; and the gallantry of the young American seamen spread abroad the fame of the new republic across the sea.



A little later, Commodore Preble made a successful attack upon the city of Tripoli, the English in commemoration of his act bringing out a pitcher-design of ships attacking fortifications, with these descriptive lines: "Commodore Preble's Squadron Attacking the City of Tripoli Aug. 3, 1804. The American Squadron under Commodore Preble consisting of the Constitution 44 guns 2 Brigs & 3 Schooners 2 bombs & 4 Gunboats Attacking the City and Harbour of Tripoli Aug. 3, 1804, the city was defended by Batteries Mounting 115 Pieces of heavy Cannon & the Harbour was defended by 19 Gunboats 2 Brigs 2 Schooners 2 Gallies and a Xebeck. the city Received Great Damage Several of the Tripolitan Vessels were sunk 3 of their Gunboats taken & a Great Number of men Killed."

The navy, thus brilliantly introduced to the world, was enlarged by President Madison, acting upon the counsel of Captains Bainbridge and Stuart, who foresaw the need of an adequate naval defense if the Atlantic Ocean were not to become, as one journal declared, "the back dooryard of John Bull"; that parent, like many another, being loth to recognize the fact that his latest born had attained to manhood with its "inalienable rights" to be respected. A medallion portrait of President Madison, the "War President," is presented upon a tall yellow jug, encircled with thirteen wreaths, each wreath enclosing the name of one of the States of the Union. Upon a ribbon scroll above the portrait is the inscription, "James Madison President of the United States of America"; the reverse bears the legend, "Independence and the Federal Union, 1815."



Continued British interference with American shipping, however, as well as the forcible impressment of American seamen into British service, finally led to open rupture with England, resulting in a declaration of war.

When after a few months the War of 1812, the actual "war of independence," as Benjamin Franklin had prophesied would come (the first being but a "war of revolution"), resolved itself into a series of spectacular sea-fights, the potter-historians of Liverpool found in illustrating them a new and a greater opportunity for trade, at the same time gratifying the pride of the American people; and the result was a large quantity of jugs and punch bowls bearing portraits of American Commodores, together with scenes of their engagements.

Who can look upon the forceful features of Captain Isaac Hull, framed in the emblems of his calling, without a thrill of pride as he calls to mind the brilliant opening of the great sea-drama of 100 years ago? The curtain rose upon the first important act on July 17, 1812; the scene was the open sea off the coast of our southern States; the action was a race rather than a battle. Hull, who had won honors in the Tripoli incident, sailed out from Chesapeake Bay in the frigate Constitution, and soon sighted a squadron of the enemy, who, when morning dawned, were seen to surround him. As fighting against such odds was out of the question, all that remained for Hull to do was to run for home—and the manner in which he ran made this act, without fighting or damage on either side, forever famous in the annals of the sea.

The ocean was so calm that no headway could be made with sails, so Hull began by kedging. He sent a small boat ahead for perhaps half a mile to drop a kedge anchor and carry the lines back to the ship, then the crew fastened the lines to the windlass and wound them up, pulling the vessel to the anchor. In this manner Hull gradually walked away from the enemy, much to their mystified surprise, until they caught sight of the "deus ex machina" and employed the same method. Hull promptly cut away some of the woodwork of his cabin, ran two twenty-pound guns out of his windows and mounted another gun as a stern chaser to keep the enemy at a proper distance. The unique spectacle is pictured before us—eleven vessels pursuing one, and all at the mercy of the wind, the star actor in all sea performances before the age of steam. For three days the chase continued; upon the evening of the second day a heavy squall came up and the Constitution furled all canvas; the enemy, sighting this maneuver, did the same. Then, under cover of the darkening storm, the Constitution quickly hoisted all sail and ran for home. When morning broke, the enemy was far astern and had given up the chase.

One month later, Hull again sailed out, this time from Boston, in search of adventure, and before long he came up with it in the form of an English frigate flaunting upon her mainsail in huge red letters the challenge:
All who meet me have a care,
I am England's Guerriere.
She proved to be one of the squadron which had recently chased Hull out of the southern seas; now she was alone and no time was lost in giving battle. For two hours the Constitution returned fire for fire in as fierce a sea duel as ever the ocean witnessed. At last, the boastful English flag was lowered and Hull lay by until the whitening dawn revealed the Guerriere a wreck, then her men were taken aboard Hull's vessel, fire was applied and she was blown to pieces. Captain Hull was the hero of the hour when he landed in Boston with his prisoners. He made a sort of triumphal progress to New York and Philadelphia, through villages decorated with banners and arches, gifts of snuff-boxes and swords being everywhere pressed upon him. Congress voted him a gold medal, a silver one to each of his officers and $50,000 to the crew. In this engagement the Constitution for the second time proved herself something more than the English journal's slighting description, "a bunch of pine boards under a bit of striped bunting," the same journal now voicing England's new-born fear that "this new enemy, unaccustomed to such triumphs, might be rendered insolent and confident by them."

That the confidence, at least, of the Republic was strengthened by success may plainly be understood by a study of the next pictured engagement—the duel between the American sloop-of-war Wasp, Captain Jones, and the English brig Frolic, which took place off Cape Hatteras on October 17, 1812. The fray continued close and furious for forty-three minutes, with the two vessels at last so close upon one another that the muzzles of two of the Wasp's guns were actually in the bow parts of the Frolic, her last discharge sweeping the English ship from stem to stern. Seeing no sign of submission from the enemy, a sailor of the Wasp leaped aboard the Frolic and to his amazement met no opposition—all were dead or wounded except the man at the wheel. The end of the engagement, however, was like the end of the fable—a British frigate suddenly hove in sight, made prize of both vessels and bore them off to Bermuda.

Upon the same day of the battle between the Wasp and the Frolic, Captain Decatur won a brilliant victory with the frigate United States over the British ship Macedonian, near the Azores Islands. On his return to New York with his prize in tow, he, like Hull, was honored with a banquet, public rejoicings and a gold medal. "No one could suppose such an event could have taken place," was England's astounded comment, while at the same time a Liverpool potter printed on a jug, underneath a portrait of the successful Commodore, the following lines:
"Then quickly met our nation's eyes
The noblest sight in nature,
A first-class frigate as a prize
Brought back by brave Decatur."


And an American rhymster voiced the attitude of the American public thus:
Let Britain no longer lay claim to the seas,
For the trident of Neptune is ours, if we please,
While Hull and Decatur and Jones are our boast,
We dare their whole navy to come to our coast.
The following act in this drama, fast taking on the appearance of a melodrama, with eager spectators agaze over all Europe, took place off the coast of Brazil. It was the battle between the now veteran Constitution, this time in command of Captain Bainbridge, and the English frigate Java. The story of the Constitution and the Guerriere was repeated—after nearly two hours of fighting the wrecked Java was fired, while the American vessel received but slight injury. "Avast Boys, She's Struck!" the words of Captain Bainbridge as he saw the enemy surrender are printed under his potrait upon a mug of Liverpool manufacture, together with this jaunty couplet:
"On Brazil's Coast She ruled the roost
When Bainbridge was her Captain."
Captain Bainbridge came in, after this victory, for his share of gold snuff-boxes and silver services, while the staunch ship Constitution (now preserved in the Boston dockyard for all to inspect) was newly christened Old Ironsides. The English papers then said that the situation called for "serious reflection," while they lamented that upwards of five hundred British vessels had been captured in seven months by Americans— "500 merchantmen and three frigates (ay and three sloops-of-war!)" are their words. That "Nucleus of trouble" which Lord Nelson had prophesied lay in the American fleet was developing rapidly for the mother country.

The naval scenery of the war now shifts from the ocean to the inland waterways lying between American territory and Canada, to secure control of which at this time was one of the chief concerns of the English. Many skirmishes took place along the wilderness shores of the Great Lakes, one of which is recalled by the portrait of General Pike, accompanied with his prophetic words: "Be always ready to die for your country." General Pike expired as he was about to enter, a victor, into the city of York, now Toronto, at that time the capital city of Canada. The act of firing the Government Buildings of that city by the American soldiers, against General Pike's orders, was later on in the war avenged in kind by the British burning the public buildings at Washington.

Command of Lake Erie was gained for the Americans by that brilliant engagement, the recital of which will forever stir the imagination of each succeeding generation of American school boys. "Perry's Victory on Lake Erie," as they named the episode, was a favorite subject for illustration by the English potters, sketches of this first "fleet action" of the war decorating sets of Staffordshire blue tableware as well as numerous yellow pitchers of Liverpool.

Perry collected his boats at Put-in-Bay, and on the evening before the battle, September 9, 1813, he gave his orders to his officers, showing them a flag with "Don't Give Up The Ship" in white letters upon it—the dying words of Captain Lawrence in the battle between the Chesapeake and the Shannon fought upon the sea near Boston three months before, words and portrait of Captain Lawrence being also printed upon a commemorative pitcher. "When this flag shall be hoisted at the main yard of the Lawrence, it shall be your signal for going into action," he told them. At daylight the next morning the English squadron was sighted, and the engagement begun.

In the illustration may be seen the two lines of naval ships drawn up in battle form, six on the British side and nine under Commodore Perry—and, may not the tiny boat passing from one vessel to another be the one in which Perry, after his flagship Lawrence had been put out of action, made his way through a storm of bullets to the Niagara, on board of which he sailed through the enemy's line and won the day ? "We have met the enemy and they are ours; two ships, two brigs, one schooner and one sloop"—the terse message of the gallant victor's dispatch will never lose its power to thrill! A deep blue Staffordshire platter honors "The Hero of the Lake" with a memorial design executed by W. G. Wall, who came to New York in the year 1818 and sent this among other paintings of American views, to English pottery works for reproduction. A fanciful structure with gothic spires is shown, upon the summit of which Fame is sounding a trumpet over an expanse of sea; at the left of the design may be seen the abundant weeping willow of conventional early nineteenth-century memorials.

Many minor sea engagements followed, that between the Enterprise and Boxer, of which a spirited sketch is shown, being among them. This action took place off the coast of Maine not far from the city of Portland, and resulted in the death of both captains. The poet Longfellow, then a lad of seven years living in Portland, in later life recalled the scene in his poem, My Lost Youth:



I remember the sea fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains as they lay
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay
Where they in battle died.
And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through me with a thrill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."
The charming view of the harbor of Stonington, Connecticut, framed in a waving steamer inscribed, "The Gallant Defense of Stonington, August 9, 1814. Stonington is Free whilst her Heroes have one Gun left," tells its own story. The little settlement of 100 houses situated upon an exposed neck of land was attacked, the ships of the enemy bombarding it with every kind of missile known to that war. The citizens of Stonington possessed plenty of courage, but only one gun, and when the enemy ceased firing on one side and sailed around to the other of the narrow peninsula, the patriots promptly dragged the lone six-pounder across the narrow strip of land and did such deadly execution with it that the disheartened enemy withdrew. The reverse of the pitcher (shown in another illustration) bears a print of a vessel under full sail, with the words beneath: "United States Frigate Guerriere, Commodore Macdonough bound to Russia July, 1818." It is recorded that a citizen of Stonington went to Russia on public service in the Guerriere, and while en route he stopped at Liverpool and ordered these pitchers, he himself making the drawing of the battle scene for the English engraver.

The china-history of the sea engagements of the War of 1812 closes with a sketch of the Battle of Lake Champlain. Like the Battle of Lake Erie, this too was a fleet action, and the tactics of Captain Macdonough which had much to do with deciding the final victory equaled in brilliancy and courage the dash of Perry through the enemy's line. Before taking command of the fleet on Lake Champlain, Captain Macdonough had seen considerable naval service, having been aboard the Philadelphia when she was captured by the pirates and towed into the harbor of Tripoli; and later, having served on board the Enterprise under Commodore Decatur. At sunrise on September 11, 1814, as the British squadron came in sight on Lake Champlain, Captain Macdonough called his officers about him upon the quarter deck, and together they prayed for wisdom and guidance in the task before them. The British vessels advanced to within a few yards, when a pet game cock on Macdonough's flagship flew upon a cannon and crowed lustily—a favorable omen, the sailors believed, as they cheered and rushed into the fray. In addition to commanding the fleet in this action, Macdonough worked like a common sailor at any task that came to hand, being also able to maneuver his flagship, the Saratoga, in such a way that it could be turned completely around, and, after deadly firing had disabled all the guns of his starboard side, to pour such a volley from his larboard battery that after two hours of desperate struggle the English hauled down their colors—and New York State was saved from invasion. When the English officers came to offer their swords to him, Captain Macdonough courteously said, "Gentlemen, your gallant conduct makes you worthy to wear your weapons. Return them to their scabbards."


Two interesting pitchers which aid in the recital of the story of the War of 1812 remain to be described. The first, of copper luster ware, shows a full-rigged vessel surrounded by a chain of elliptical links containing the names of Hull, Jones, Lawrence, Macdonough, Porter, Blakey, Beatry, Stuart, Washington, Perry, Rogers, Bainbridge, and Decatur, with two clasped hands holding the chain. Upon the other side, an American eagle with "E Pluribus Unum" is enclosed in a similar chain which links the names Brown, McComb, Ripley, Pike, Porter, Miller, Brainbridge, Izard, Van Rensselaer, Adair, Lewis, Gaines, Scott and Jardson—what a galaxy of events these groups of historic names summon to the mind!

The second pitcher was made by Enoch Wood & Son at their potteries in Burslem, Staffordshire, about the year 1824, and is immense in size for a pitcher, standing twenty inches high, with a body eighteen inches in diameter. This is known as the "Historical Pitcher of the War of 1812," the decorations portraying many incidents of that period. Upon either side of a secondary handle are portraits of Washington and Adams, while one side of the body bears portraits of Captain Jones of the Macedonian, Major-General Brown of the Niagara campaign, Commodore Bainbridge of the Constitution, and prints representing the Constitution escaping from the British fleet, Commodore Macdonough's victory on Lake Champlain, and an American eagle with the motto, E Pluribus Unum. Upon the reverse are portraits of Commodore Decatur, Commodore Perry and Captain Hull of the Constitution; below are represented the engagements between the Chesapeake and Shannon off Boston Harbor, June 1, 1813, Commodore Perry's Victory on Lake Erie, and the line from his message, "We have met the enemy and they are ours." This pitcher was made for an early citizen of Troy, New York, and was first publicly used at a reception given in that city in honor of General Lafayette upon the occasion of his visit in September, 1824.

The final battle of the War of 1812 was a land engagement fought at New Orleans, the United States forces under command of General Jackson, who later on became President. Before the battle was ended, peace with Great Britain had been agreed upon, the Treaty being signed at Ghent, Belgium, on December 24, 1814. Upon December 26, an envoy set out for the United States with a copy of the document, crossing the Atlantic upon a British sloop of war. He arrived in New York February 11, having been thirty-eight days upon the voyage—and the tidings which he brought with him one hundred years ago were a few months past the cause of quiet, owing to the tragic circumstances of the other contracting party to the treaty, but intense satisfaction and congratulation. In the hearts of all Americans echoes the sentiment which a century ago was inscribed upon a Liverpool pitcher: "May they ever be united."

(From The Blue-China Book by Ada Walker Camehl, 1916.)

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