In Hostile Waters: The Cruise of USS Argus (Oliver Baldwin Novel Book 3) Read online

  An Oliver Baldwin Novel

  IN HOSTILE

  WATERS

  The Cruise of

  USS ARGUS

  William H. White

  © William H. White 2015

  © William H. White 2015

  ISBN-13: 978-1514382738 (Soft Cover)

  ISBN-10: 1514382733 (Kindle Edition)

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means – graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or information storage and retrieval systems – without the prior permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Cover painting © Paul Garnett 2015

  Author photo © William H. White, Jr.

  Graphic design and production by:

  Palazzo Graphic Design, Bradley Beach, NJ

  Published by: Sea Fiction Press, Red Bank, NJ

  E-mail: [email protected]

  By the same author:

  1812 Trilogy:

  A Press of Canvas

  A Fine Tops’l Breeze

  The Evening Gun

  Oliver Baldwin novels:

  The Greater the Honor

  In Pursuit of Glory

  In Hostile Waters

  Edward Ballantyne novels:

  When Fortune Frowns

  Gun Bay

  Non-Fiction:

  “…our flag was still there”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Without the work and incredible research done by the late Ira Dye, Captain, USN (ret), this book would have been nearly impossible and surely, would have taken years to produce. His detailed and exhaustive investigation into the events surrounding the final cruise of USS Argus is succinctly presented in his book, The Fatal Cruise of the Argus; Two captains in the War of 1812. I had read the book many years ago and pulled it out from my library when I embarked upon this project. It has served more or less as my Bible. So thank you, Captain Dye.

  Once again, Deirdre O’Regan has put her professional reputation on the line by editing the manuscript, paring it down and smoothing out many of the wrinkles. Her expertise as an editor, combined with her skill as a tall ship sailor, surely makes for a vastly improved and more readable, tale. Thanks, Dee!

  My son, John White, has taken time out of his incredibly busy life – job, family, and training for an ironman race – to read the manuscript, searching for (and finding!) errors in continuity and other anomalies in the story. A thankless task, but necessary. So, thanks John!

  As usual, Paul Garnett, artist extraordinaire, has produced yet another work of art for the cover. He has painted the original artwork for every one of my books and each is superb. As I have said before, we are not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but don’t we all? So it is most important for a book to look good even before a potential reader opens it.

  The production of the book by Palazzo Graphic Design, as with its immediate predecessor, Gun Bay, and all of the second editions of my previous books, was handled with expertise and patience. This is the ninth book Gina has produced, each one more skillfully created than its predecessor. Her instincts with the layout have made each one easier to read. I would trust no one else to do this work.

  There are a few people who contributed unwittingly and who shall necessarily go unnamed; I borrowed some of their less desirable attributes for some of the characters. Perhaps, should any of those people read this, they might recognize a similarity. If so, sorry, friends.

  My wife, Ann, has been patient with me allowing me the time to work and when asked, she has read sections, offering gentle criticisms which always improved the text. Thank you, my dear.

  Finally, to all who have assisted in one way or another with the delivery to market of this and my previous books, I thank you. Your help was invaluable and most appreciated. I hope that my effort is worthy of your own efforts.

  William H. White

  West Bay, Grand Cayman

  March 2015

  INTRODUCTION

  William Henry Allen was born in Providence, Rhode Island, on 21 October 1784, the year after the Treaty of Paris was signed and ratified, ending the War for Independence with Great Britain. His father, William, was a senior officer in the Rhode Island militia and had participated in almost every significant battle of the Revolution. His mother, Sarah, was sister to the governor of the state and the whole family was held in high regard by Providence society. Henry, as he preferred to be called, joined two older sisters, Elizabeth and Sarah; they would play a significant role in his life as correspondents who kept their brother current about the goings-on in Providence society. A career in the navy allowed only occasional visits home.

  The senior Allen’s plan for their son did not include a career in the fledgling navy; they fully expected him to follow peaceful pursuits and geared his education to that end. The “plan” went into a cocked hat when his mother died when Henry was twelve and his father remarried. He determined to lead a more active life and used his father’s service as his precedent, along with the service of a maternal uncle who had seen action as captain of marines aboard the Continental Navy frigate Providence. Fueling his passion were the almost daily accounts in the newspapers and broadsides detailing the fortunes of the navy in their Quasi-war struggle with France. The frigate battle and subsequent victory by USS Constellation over the French frigate Insurgente must have been the stuff of dreams for young Henry, but his father, for the moment anyway, prevailed; Henry remained in school.

  Finally, in 1800, his father and stepmother surrendered; through the influence of Rhode Island Senator Ray Greene, Henry obtained his warrant as midshipman and officially joined the navy. He reported aboard his first ship, the United States frigate George Washington, lying in Newport, Rhode Island. His enthusiasm knew no bounds and he took to his service with alacrity, unbridled enthusiasm, and a strong will to learn. The Washington had no commanding officer per se, rather an “officer in charge” a Lieutenant Phillips. Also in the ship were Lieutenant John Warner and Sailing Master Augustus Hallowell, both of whom took fifteen-year-old Henry under their wing to teach, protect, and mentor him. His first letter home mentioned that he “liked the situation very well.”

  The ship was a “purchased” vessel – one converted from merchant service rather than constructed as a warship for the navy. She was one hundred eight feet long on the keel and only six hundred tons (for comparison, the “heavy frigates” like Constitution and United States were one hundred seventy-five feet and about fifteen hundred tons). She was rated a “twenty-four” and carried that number of nine-pounders and eight six-pounder long guns; it was very light armament, but in keeping with her diminutive size. Her first cruise with the new crew would be a June run to Philadelphia – it would also be Henry’s first contact with the British.

  Just south of Cape May, New Jersey, at the mouth of Delaware Bay, the lookouts sighted a sail. The officers and men in the American frigate had no way of knowing that the war with France was over and so, with the prospect of crossing tacks with a Frenchman, Lt. Phillips ordered the ship to quarters despite the fact that they were short-handed; only about one-third of the crew was aboard. It quickly became apparent that the strange sail’s course would cross the American’s bow. When the stranger tacked and headed more directly at Wa
shington, the American ship ran up her colors, where upon the stranger hoisted the Cross of St. George and bore away. She was a thirty-six-gun English frigate but remained unidentified as they did not speak.

  Once Washington made Philadelphia, a real captain took command: William Bainbridge. At twenty-six, he was already known as a hard driver and a strict disciplinarian, a mariner who had learned the trade in the merchant service. During two civilian commands he had single-handedly put down two mutinies with his bare fists and strength of character. He referred to his sailors, navy or civilian, as “damned rascals.” It was a testament to his well-deserved reputation that immediately following his arrival, nineteen sailors, including several petty officers, deserted! But Captain Bainbridge would take quite a different approach with the Washington’s officers and midshipmen: he was warm and welcoming, offering them the opportunity to visit his home in Philadelphia, discussing the management of the ship with them, and generally treating them as “gentlemen,” something most important to young Henry Allen. It went right along with “honor” in his mind; one could not have one without the other.

  The ship, reorganized and fully manned, soon left for the Mediterranean carrying American tribute to Algiers. Tribute was demanded to preclude Barbary pirates from attacking and seizing American ships, looting the cargo, and enslaving or imprisoning the crews. Before the Revolution, American ships were protected by British warships and English treaties with the countries of the Barbary Coast – now, we were on our own. (It was later learned that the British actually encouraged the pirates to attack our commerce!) The Barbary States – Morocco, Tunis, Algiers, and Tripoli – thrived on their ability to extract tribute from foreign governments or, lacking payment, capture their ships and steal cargoes. With no military protection, American ships became easy pickings. It would later be determined that a military presence off the coast of North Africa would be preferable to the payment of what was essentially blackmail.

  During the long voyage across the Atlantic, Midshipman Allen learned his duties through lots of practice and repetition: he became proficient at navigation, sail handling, and climbing into the rig with skill and agility. But he longed for action. His country was still at least tacitly fighting France; England was at war with both France and Spain, and it seemed likely to the young midshipman that in the open stretches of the Atlantic they would encounter someone with whom to exchange some iron! Unfortunately, George Washington proved a dull sailor and the two French cruisers they sighted easily sailed away once they realized they were being pursued. Captain Bainbridge and company subsequently encountered a small fleet of merchantmen just south of Cape St. Vincent (Portugal) and gave chase, firing six shots from his bow chasers. Once again, his intended prizes simply altered course towards shore and sailed out of range, leaving the American frigate wallowing sluggishly far astern. How depressing and frustrating it must have been for Allen, desperately hoping for some action but finding none.

  A few days later a small British squadron came over the horizon astern, and a Royal Navy ship-of-the-line broke away from the group and gave chase. This time it was the Americans who tried to sail out of range. Bainbridge piled on sail, but even that vessel – a behemoth of a battleship – was faster than George Washington and gradually caught up with them.

  The British ship fired a gun to leeward – the signal to heave to – and hoisted the English ensign. Bainbridge answered with a gun of his own and hoisted the Stars and Stripes. At this point, both ships’ guns had been loaded only with powder, but when the Americans did not heave to as directed, the English ship fired an iron shot in their direction. It was an arrogant and illegal gesture; they had no authority to stop the warship of a friendly nation on the high seas. And they would do it again, with disastrous results, a few years later. Bainbridge crowded on sail to effect his escape, and the battleship fired another shot, still too far away to do harm but a clear indication of her intent. A seven-hour chase ensued, but ultimately the American ship, faced with overwhelming firepower as the huge British warship loomed alongside, hove to. Honor was served; he did not give in until he had no choice. After identifying himself as “His Majesty’s Line-of-Battle ship Dragon,” the British captain sailed off, leaving a humiliated American captain and crew seething, powerless to respond. The seed of hatred for all things British had been firmly implanted in young Allen’s breast.

  When the ship finally reached Algiers, the dey only added to the Americans’ humiliation by ordering Bainbridge to carry Algerian tribute to Constantinople. Worse, the American commander was forced to haul down his ensign and hoist the flag of Algiers – at least until out of range of the castle’s guns. For Allen, it was yet another unforgivable case of forsaken honor and disrespect to his country, and while this latest insult was not perpetrated by the English, it was clearly a slap in the face to both his ship and his country. Nevertheless, the absolute crowning incident that cemented Henry Allen’s burning hatred for all things British occurred in 1807, just following his promotion to lieutenant. It harkened back to the Dragon incident and marked the second time young Allen would experience the arrogance and might of the Royal Navy.

  He had been assigned to the thirty-six-gun frigate USS Chesapeake, which, having just completed a refit, was being readied to sail to the Mediterranean to serve as flagship in the squadron stationed there. In addition to transporting a host of supplies for the American ships already there, the Chesapeake would carry Commodore James Barron as well. Master Commandant Charles Gordon commanded the ship and, under pressure from the commodore to get underway, put to sea with an ill-prepared crew, lumbered decks (unstowed supplies, cables, etc.) and guns unready to fire. They sailed from Hampton Roads, Virginia, passing a visiting squadron of British ships in Lynnhaven Bay. Once beyond the Virginia Capes, HMS Leopard, a fifty-gun British warship, ranged alongside and requested Chesapeake heave to so that a boarding party might have a look for some British deserters.

  Naturally, both the captain and the commodore refused, whereupon the British ship fired a broadside into the unsuspecting Americans. Chesapeake only got off one gun in response – it was fired personally by Allen, who, legend has it, was said to have carried a live coal from the galley stove in his bare hands to touch off the powder. Commodore Barron promptly surrendered. The boarding party came aboard, mustered the crew, and took off four sailors they claimed were English seamen. Chesapeake limped back to Hampton Roads with four dead, twenty wounded – including the commodore – and a young lieutenant whose hatred of the British now burned into his very soul. Of course, his feat against Leopard quickly became the stuff of legend and gained for him immeasurable honor and professional respect.

  Barron was subsequently court-martialed for having surrendered his ship and a host of other sins, and the Chesapeake was sent to the shipyard for repairs. When the ship was ready for sea and a new crew was installed, she also received a new master, Commodore Stephen Decatur. Henry Allen determined his best course lay in staying with the frigate and sailing under Decatur, the man he fancied the most honorable in the whole U.S. Navy. He graciously declined opportunities to sail with some of the big names of the day – Rodgers, Bainbridge, Lawrence, and other members of the court-martial board who, impressed with his derring-do, had invited the young lieutenant to join their ships.

  In 1809 Decatur was assigned to command of the heavy frigate USS United States, then in ordinary (in modern parlance: in “mothballs”) in the Washington Navy Yard. He requested and was given Allen as his first lieutenant, the second in command. The assignment would become yet another moment in the sun for him, and he was determined to make the most of it. He prepared the ship for sea utilizing skills of personality and persuasion to cajole the dockyard workers into moving more quickly than they were accustomed, enlisting a crew, and assigning officers to billets well suited to their experience. Decatur was most pleased with the result, and, once his ship was at sea, his first lieutenant turned his considerable energies on training the gun crews. Never
again would any ship carrying Henry Allen experience the embarrassment he had witnessed in Chesapeake! And then, on 18 June, 1812, war was declared with England, something that Henry not only anticipated, but that he relished!

  After several uneventful cruises – Isaac Hull in Constitution had the first success, besting HMS Guerrier in mid-August – both Decatur and Allen were chafing at their lines to get back to sea and fight. Both were more than confident that their ship could carry anything the Royal Navy might offer, but they first had to find them. In late August, United States returned to Boston for repairs – she had taken several prizes and sustained minor damage in the process – ship additional crew as replacements for those suffering ill health, and train a contingent of raw recruits received from USS Congress in exchange for the seventy-five seasoned hands Decatur had been forced to send them. Henry only had time for a brief trip to Providence to visit his family, as with the press of obligation weighing heavily upon him, he could not linger. A budding relationship with a young lady suffered, and he would not again have the opportunity to rekindle it.

  United States sailed again with the other two squadrons: John Rodgers in President, along with Congress and Wasp; Bainbridge in Constitution with Essex and Hornet. USS Argus, a brig of eighteen guns, and USS Chesapeake accompanied Decatur in United States. They all left together except for Essex, which had yet to complete some repairs, to provide mutual support should they encounter any of the blockading British ships. At sea, the three squadrons split up. Decatur, preferring to hunt by himself, then divided up his own group. There would be no shared glory should he be successful in his quest to match – or preferably top – Isaac Hull’s victory over Guerrier!

  Their chance came in late in October, in the eastern Atlantic, when United States encountered, engaged, and nearly destroyed the thirty-eight gun frigate HMS Macedonian. The British crew suffered more than a hundred casualties, while the Americans lost only five men killed and seven wounded. Macedonian’s own captain, John Carden, described his ship as “a floating log, unmanageable.” Most of her rig was down and more than half her battery had been put out of action. United States, on the other hand, had some shot-up bulwarks and one of her t’gallant masts was down, but she was largely intact. The American’s highly accurate gunnery was attributed to the intense and continual training on which Allen had insisted throughout the cruise.