Sloops, Frigates, and GalleysSloops, Frigates, and Galleys
NONE OF THE PLANNING, scheming, or dreaming in London or Bermuda did much to help Capt. Robert Barrie. The commander of the greatly diminished Chesapeake blockade squadron had to count on the fickle bay winter weather as much as his own ships to prevent American merchantmen and privateers from reaching the Atlantic. There were two ships Barrie could not allow to leave, the two ships the British coveted the most as prizes: the Constellation and the sloop of war Adams.
The Constellation, commanded by Capt. Charles Gordon, remained bottled up on the Elizabeth River near Norfolk. Barrie had no recent information on the location of the 28-gun warship Adams, under the command of Capt. Charles Morris. On a hunch, he deployed his meager force of blockaders close to the Potomac River, where he believed the Adams was lurking, in case the American warship tried to break out.
Breaking out was exactly what Morris intended. One of the many officers whose careers took off under Commodore Edward Preble during the First Barbary War in 1803–4, Morris was born on July 26, 1784, in Woodstock, Connecticut. He entered the Navy as an acting midshipman in 1799 and received his warrant the following year. He served alongside Stephen Decatur, Charles Stewart, Richard Somers, Isaac Hull, James Lawrence, and Thomas Macdonough in the Mediterranean, and was part of Decatur’s daring raid to burn the captured frigate Philadelphia in Tripoli’s harbor.
At the outbreak of the war Morris was first lieutenant on the Constitution under Hull. He was wounded in the abdomen during the victorious fight with the Guerriere and was promoted to full captain, a promotion that raised the hackles of his brother officers. Many, most notably James Lawrence and Jacob Jones, were senior to him and resented Morris jumping above them in rank. Morris, to his credit, made no attempt to influence the Senate, which had to approve the promotion. On October 5, 1812, Secretary of the Navy Jones put Morris in command of the Adams, which was then undergoing a complete refit at the Washington Navy Yard. A month later the Senate approved his promotion to captain—along with those of Lawrence and Jones, keeping Morris junior to both on the seniority list.1
After his promotion Morris received his orders to proceed to Washington to take command of the Adams and oversee her overhaul. While directing the work, Morris joined with Stewart in testifying before the Naval Committee of the Senate, arguing for the expansion of the Navy. It was likely an easier task than the overhaul of the Adams proved to be. Then a 32-gun frigate, the Adams required nearly a complete rebuild after lying in ordinary since 1807. Workers at the Washington Navy Yard completed the refit in May 1813, but the British blockade kept the Adams from getting to sea. Instead, Morris and his crew reported to Annapolis and manned the two forts guarding the city. Morris also put together a plan to defend Washington, a plan Armstrong ignored.
Two short cruises on the Potomac convinced Morris and a board of other officers that the frigate was still not ready for sea. Although always a fast vessel, the Adams had design flaws that hampered her success as a warship. She was too sharp on the bottom and drew too much water when loaded. Josiah Fox had suggested converting the Adams into a flush-deck sloop of war as early as 1807, but work on completely converting the frigate did not begin in earnest until August 1813.2 Workers cut the ship in half and lengthened her fifteen feet by adding a section amidships. The Adams relaunched on November 18, 1813, as a 28-gun sloop of war armed with “short 18-pounders” and a crew of officers and men whom Morris described as “all young.”3
Despite the renovation, the officers and crew—including Morris—were not particularly happy with how the Adams sailed. “I regret that the ship gives but little satisfaction either to myself or officers,” Morris wrote to Jones. “They are so little satisfied with her that they would willingly change to any other vessel that can get to sea, but will not apply for a removal while I remain in her. They do not consider her a safe cruising vessel.”4
The problems with the Adams were many. Her rudder shook so violently at any speed faster than a crawl that Morris believed it might actually rip away from the ship. A bigger problem was the shape of the bow, which did not channel water properly around the ship. Instead it pooled water that formed eddies right behind the rudder. Whether it was an old problem or a new one caused by lengthening the ship, Morris did not say.5
In spite of his ship’s shortcomings, Morris brought the Adams down to the mouth of the Potomac at the beginning of January 1814, “ready to take advantage of any favorable opportunity.” He admitted, however, that his “situation was not very agreeable, being always exposed to an attack by superior force, with all the rivers closed above us by ice.”6
Each day the Adams spent waiting for favorable winds increased the tension on board. The crew and officers alike expected to see Royal Navy blockaders sail into sight while their own ship was helpless. Finally, on January 18 at 5 p.m., Morris guided the Adams out of the Potomac and into the Chesapeake. A strong northwest wind pushed her at nearly twelve knots, and darkness and snow squalls hid her from view. Although he was out of the Potomac, Morris was hardly out of danger. “All the lights [aids to navigation] in the bay had been discontinued, and the two persons who acted as pilots were imperfectly qualified for the duty,” Morris reported. “The rate of sailing was so rapid that correct soundings were not obtained, and it was only fortunate chance that we were not carried upon the shoals.”7
The Adams continued on her course until a light onshore was mistaken for a channel light and she scraped over a large shoal, grounding her keel twice “with considerable force.” Morris quickly changed course and found deeper water. His two pilots “differed widely as to our place in the bay and it became necessary to depend entirely on my own judgment, which happened to prove correct.” Although some of the crew worried the ship might have been holed passing over the shoal, Morris decided to continue, with even those worried about possible damage agreeing. “Everybody was willing to encounter these risks for the chance of escaping the species of imprisonment to which we had been so long subjected.”8
Just past midnight the Adams passed Lynnhaven Bay, where Barrie was anchored with his 74-gun flagship, the Dragon. The British never even saw Morris’ vessel pass. “When daylight broke upon us,” Morris said, “neither the enemy nor land was in sight.”9 For the Americans it was the first sea victory in the Chesapeake in more than a year, and Morris had not fired a shot.
Capt. Charles Gordon did not have Morris’ luck. Gordon arrived in Norfolk in September to take command of the frigate Constellation, expecting to get her to sea as soon as he spotted a hole in the British blockade. It would be the culmination of his dream to finally take the war to the British. Revenge was also likely a motivation for Gordon. His close friend Capt. James Lawrence had been killed in June 1813 while commanding the frigate Chesapeake in a losing battle with the British warship Shannon. Gordon no doubt had dreams of avenging Lawrence, although he never put those thoughts on paper.10
Gordon found his new command anything but ready for sea. The crew was scattered. Some remained on temporary duty on the gunboats that helped repel the attack on Craney Island. Others were detailed to the defenses of Norfolk or were working in the Gosport Navy Yard. On October 12 he reported to Navy secretary Jones, “I found the Ship without order or arrangement in any degree owing to her crew being so long absent and indeed had become almost strangers to the ship, to their stations and to every thing like system and regularity. For in the Gun Boat service they cannot be kept in that state of discipline necessary for a man of war.”11
The crew was only part of the problem. “The ship will require re-fitting from her keelson up and her crew reorganized and trained as though she were just from the ordinary,” Gordon wrote to Jones. “She will require a quantity of running rigging; one set of top sails and courses to replace those that have been bent and have become mildewed and rotten; two bower cables; one mizzen top mast to replace a white pine one she has now.”12 Finally, the Constellation had no powder. The skeleton crew left on the frigate had allowed several feet of water to accumulate in the hold that destroyed all the stores, including the ship’s one ton of gunpowder.
Gordon laid much of the blame for the poor condition of the Constellation on Capt. Joseph Tarbell, who commanded the ship during the summer after Charles Stewart went to Boston and before Gordon could arrive from Baltimore. Tarbell appeared to be indifferent about the Constellation, knowing he was not destined to take her to sea. “There being no inventory taken and no receipt from Capt. Tarbell to Capt. Stewart when the change took place, I find it difficult to ascertain precisely what is deficient or where the deficiencies are,” Gordon reported.
Jones took the extraordinary step of writing to Stewart, asking him about the state of the Constellation when he left for Boston. Stewart replied to Jones’ inquiry with incredulity. “It is truly mortifying to me that there should have arisen any necessity for calling on me at this period to show the state and condition of that ship at the time I surrendered her to the charge of Captain Tarbell; particularly as her books of indent and expenditure were left on board, made up to the day of my leaving her; by reference to them it will be seen what had been received on board, as stores, and what was expended.”13
Both Stewart and Jones wanted to know the location of the ship’s furniture. Gordon reported on his arrival that the Constellation had been stripped of everything. Of even greater concern, however, was the wet, useless gunpowder. Jones ordered Capt. John Cassin, commander of the navy yard, to investigate, but nothing apparently came of the probe. Tarbell attempted to shift responsibility for the ship to Sailing Master Benjamin Bryan, saying Bryan had been in charge of the frigate while the rest of the crew was fighting in the gunboats. Bryan responded to the charge of negligence by detailing his actions and exact whereabouts—and those of the ranking officers on the Constellation—from February through October 1813. He reported that he never found more than twelve or fifteen inches of water in the bilges (a normal condition for a wooden ship), an amount that could not have damaged the powder. “I do not merit the stigma attempted to be cast on me,” he wrote to Jones. “It will appear from the foregoing statement that I was not at any one time longer in charge of the ship than 48 hours.”14
The entire affair exasperated Jones, and he was particularly unhappy with what he saw as buck-passing among his senior officers. On October 28 he wrote to Gordon, telling him to find out exactly who was responsible for the mess on the frigate:
The disorganization, waste, and negligence, on board the Constellation, subsequent to your command, are, I believe, without a parallel in the service; sails rotting on the yards, seven feet water in her hold, 2000 lbs. of powder utterly destroyed, and great part of the furniture, etc. dilapidated or lost; and the responsibility attempted to be shifted from the commander to a warrant officer, who is said to have been left with the entire command, under the pretext of the commander and lieutenants being engaged in flotilla expeditions, and on Craney Island. This may account to you for the necessity of my enquiry, in order to investigate and trace the negligence to its proper source.15
Work on the Constellation progressed throughout the fall. Captain Cassin made the frigate the yard’s priority, and Gordon reported the ship ready for service in early December. A quirk in the command structure prevented Gordon from leaving, however, when he lost his crew to Tarbell. Because he equaled Gordon and Cassin in rank, Tarbell believed he could essentially do what he wanted. Tarbell commanded the Navy gunboats at Norfolk and decided to use them to strike at British watering parties operating in the York River. He launched his expedition on December 1 and immediately drew the attention of most of Barrie’s squadron. The British commander left only the frigate Lacedaemonian to watch Norfolk while he pursued Tarbell with his brigs and frigates. It was a perfect opportunity for the Constellation to slip out of Norfolk and possibly to attack and capture an enemy frigate.
The departure of the gunboats left only the Constellation to guard the city, however, and Gordon was unwilling to leave Norfolk defenseless. He also raised the possibility that the British might sail around the gunboat flotilla and cut it off from Norfolk. “The strange and distant conduct of Capt. Tarbell to me on this occasion, and the great risk of having all his disposable force,” led Gordon to ask Jones to clarify the command situation. It was not that he desired command of all the naval forces in Norfolk, he wrote. All he wanted was to ensure coordination, so should another opportunity to run the blockade arise, he would not miss it because of the actions of one of his fellow captains. On December 28 Gordon sailed the Constellation to Point Lookout, near the mouth of the Elizabeth River. He was ready, he wrote Jones, to slip past the blockade. From his anchorage he could see that Barrie had left one frigate to guard the river while others were “looking out off the capes or up the bay.” All he needed was good weather; but that was in short supply. The usual conditions were “thick blustering and variable,” Gordon reported. Good weather lasted only a day before it changed to marginal, and without the right winds the Constellation could go nowhere.16
Gordon remained at anchor near Craney Island for more than a week, always looking for a way past the blockade, but contrary winds and squalls kept the frigate tied to her moorings. Once he did get into the Atlantic, Gordon’s orders were to attack merchant ships. “The commerce of the enemy is the most vulnerable interest we can assail,” Jones had written to him, “and your main efforts should be directed to its destruction.”17 Gordon tried to set sail on January 3 but had to turn back when the wind suddenly veered. He tried again ten days later, and five days after that. He made his final attempt on February 11, but once again the weather worked against him. “So baffling was the wind and so extremely thick with squalls and calms from the south,” he reported to Jones, that “we were kept in this state of anxiety and uncertainty until the morning, when it broke away with the wind at west and exposed us to the full view of the Enemy—one frigate in Lynnhaven Bay, and a ship of the line, a frigate and a large brig off Back River. As I could not then proceed without being pursued by the whole of their force, I remained in the [Hampton] roads.”18
Almost as bad as the weather was the bickering that continued between Tarbell and Gordon. Throughout January and February, Tarbell wore out couriers with letters to the Navy Department, all of them complaining about Gordon. On February 15 Tarbell whined to Jones, “I beg I may not be considered attempting anything to the prejudice of a brother officer, but really Capt. Gordon’s demands on the flotilla has been so great, and so severe, that I have been compelled to refuse him.” Gordon’s repeated attempts to slip past the blockade had kept the gunboats and schooners of the flotilla constantly at work, Tarbell complained, preventing him from conducting his campaign against the British.19 Gordon retorted that as the senior officer, it was his right to suborn the flotilla to his needs.20
Jones finally had enough of both men. It was bad enough that the Constellation remained in Norfolk. He did not need two of his senior officers engaging in a war of words as well, especially when it took up the secretary’s time. As British reinforcements began to arrive, strengthening the blockade, it was readily apparent that Gordon would not get to sea. On April 15 Jones ended the command debate. “In the present state and probable continuance of the Blockade, the prospect of your getting to sea is not only hopeless but it would be temerity to make the attempt,” he wrote to Gordon. “Therefore your attention will be exclusively directed to the efficient employment of the whole of the Naval force on the Norfolk station, for which purpose you are invested with the entire command of that force, and Captain Tarbell will report himself to you accordingly.”21 The command question was settled, but the Constellation would remain stuck for the rest of the year.
The success the British enjoyed raiding up and down the Chesapeake throughout 1813 convinced both Secretary of War Armstrong and Secretary of the Navy Jones of the need for some type of defensive force on the bay, one that could cover the principal cities of the upper Chesapeake, including Baltimore and Annapolis, as well as Washington. Thanks to the lobbying efforts of Morris, Stewart, and other officers, Congress, when it approved the $16 million loan to continue funding the war, approved using a portion of the funds to build several new warships. Six of those vessels were to be sloops of war, with two of them built in Baltimore and one at the Washington Navy Yard. Work on the new vessels began in the fall, but the blockade hampered the construction because contractors could not ship materials to the shipwrights.22
Although the sloops would be effective warships, there was still a need for inshore defense boats that could match the British barges and cutters and challenge the raiding parties. Charles Gordon’s leased flotilla of privateers were returned to their owners in September 1813, leaving just one U.S. Navy gunboat to defend the city. On the Potomac, the U.S. block sloop Scorpion and schooner Asp were the only vessels left of that flotilla after the British incursion up the river. What both Jones and Armstrong needed was a cost-effective, hard-hitting way to fight the British.
Joshua Barney, arguably the most accomplished naval officer not in the U.S. Navy, gave the secretaries exactly what they wanted in July 1813 when he submitted a plan to defend the Chesapeake using a novel type of warship. Barney was already something of a legend. Born in Baltimore on July 6, 1759, to a well-to-do family, he was one of fourteen children. He professed his desire to go to sea when he was ten years old, although his parents kept him on land for two more years. He made his first transatlantic voyage at age sixteen and became a captain by default on his next voyage when the captain of the merchant ship on which Barney was sailing died at sea. Barney saved the ship from sinking in a storm and, after many months of wrangling, sold the cargo and returned to Philadelphia to find the colonies in revolt against England.
Barney immediately offered his services to the Continental Navy and was appointed the master’s mate of the Hornet, one of the ships in Commodore Esek Hopkins’ flotilla that attacked New Providence in the Bahamas. He soon became the lieutenant in command of the Wasp and later of the Andrea Doria. He also served as a successful privateer. He was captured three times and exchanged twice. The third time the British cast him into the infamous Old Mill Prison outside Plymouth, England. He escaped by bribing a guard, dressing in a homemade British officer’s uniform, and then stealing a fishing boat. He was caught before he could flee from English soil but escaped again, once more using his fake uniform to boldly evade patrols looking for him. He managed to reach Holland, where he secured passage back to the United States. On his return he took command of the Hyder Ally, a Philadelphia privateer, and captured the British warship General Monk.
Barney had a reputation for honorably treating his prisoners. In 1782, after capturing the General Monk, Barney used his own money to arrange for the treatment of the wounded British captain. Although he treated his prisoners well and harbored no hatred toward the British, Barney did develop a lifelong desire to punish them for his cruel treatment at their hands.
Barney was also known for his fearlessness and resourcefulness. During the battle with the General Monk, Barney stood on the binnacle that housed the ship’s compass so he could better direct his sailors. The perch made him a perfect target for English sharpshooters, who peppered his uniform and hat with musket balls. He only abandoned his exposed position when a cannonball hit the binnacle and tumbled him to the deck. Later, he proudly recalled that his example had inspired a young sailor who had been frozen with fear. Barney had noticed the young man just before he was knocked off the binnacle. When he stood up, he saw the young man working his gun.23
After the Revolution, Barney became a successful merchant captain and shipowner who made frequent voyages to France. He became enamored of the Republican ideals of revolutionary France and in 1795 accepted an offer to serve in the French navy. He spent seven years, off and on, commanding frigates and commissioning privateers, two of which were wildly successful. He turned down a commission in the nascent U.S. Navy in 1797 when the United States and France entered into an undeclared naval war, believing he was not high enough on the seniority list.
Barney remained in French service until 1802, when, with the ascent of Napoleon and the demise of the French Republic, he returned permanently to Baltimore. At the outbreak of the war with England Barney commanded the Baltimore-built privateer Rossie. He set out on July 12, 1812, on a ninety-day cruise. When it ended, Barney had captured or destroyed 20 British ships totaling 3,698 tons worth an estimated $1.5 million and had taken 217 prisoners. It was among the most successful runs of any American privateer during the war. By the summer of 1813 he was back in Baltimore and, like many in Maryland, watching in horror as Cockburn’s waterborne marauders operated with impunity.24
In July 1813 Barney wrote to Jones detailing a plan to defend the Chesapeake with a “flying squadron” of sail-and-row galleys. These boats, Barney wrote, would be “so constructed, as to draw a small draft of water, to carry oars, light sails, and one heavy long gun, these vessels may be built in a short time, (say 3 weeks). . . . Add to this squadron three or four, light fast-sailing vessels, prepared as fireships, which could with ease, (under cover of the Barges) be run onboard any of the enemies ships, if they should attempt to anchor, or remain in our narrow rivers, or harbors.”25
Barney’s idea dovetailed with a plan Senator Samuel Smith of Maryland had rammed through Congress in June that ordered the federal government to provide adequate defenses for harbors and ports. Smith’s plan called for the use of galleys in two classes, one 70 feet long, the other 50 feet.26 Jones was against the idea. “The number of men required in proportion to the efficient force of a barge is excessively great,” he explained to Smith, “and it will be recollected that a vast number of our seamen are still employed in licensed merchantmen abroad and in our public and private armed vessels.” Jones also saw problems supplying the boats, finding the money to build them, and in the chain of command.27 Moreover, Jones believed Smith secretly wanted the federal government to absorb the costs the city of Baltimore had incurred when it purchased several barges for local defense during Warren’s spring campaign.
The Maryland senator, however, had the political clout to push his idea, and Jones acquiesced, with one caveat. He made sure command of any battle group of galleys would be outside the normal Navy establishment. When Barney’s memo arrived, Jones jumped at the chance to offer Barney the job. Naming Barney was also something of a shot across Smith’s bow because Barney and Smith were political rivals and barely on speaking terms. If Smith expected to exert influence over the flotilla, he would find in Barney an implacable foe.28
Jones tendered Barney the command of the “United States Flotilla on the upper part of the Chesapeake” on August 20. Barney quickly accepted even though the flotilla would not be as he had envisioned it. Whereas Barney’s plan called for 100-foot galleys with crews of fifty sailors and officers and twenty-five “soldiers,” Jones had shipyards in Baltimore, Washington, and St. Michaels building 75-foot and 50-foot vessels, each with a different size crew and no differentiation between sailors and soldiers. The armament was also different. Barney called for just one cannon in each galley while Jones had two guns on each boat. Under Jones’ plan, each galley was to carry a single 24-pounder long cannon in the bow and a 42-pounder carronade in the stern. Jones later changed the armament to an 18-pounder cannon and 32-pounder carronades because the Navy had a surplus of those weapons.29
If Barney had any misgivings about the vessels’ design, he never expressed them. After accepting his appointment as an acting master commandant in the “U.S. Flotilla Service,” Barney began recruiting men. He estimated that at a minimum he needed 750 sailors to man the 11 galleys, the cutters Scorpion and Asp, and the two U.S. Navy gunboats that made up his flotilla. It was possible, though, that he would need more. Shipyards continued to build galleys that could add to his flotilla, and Barney also wanted to buy several of the galleys the city of Baltimore had built for local defense. The city government of Baltimore actually offered all of its vessels and their captains to Barney, knowing those boats could eventually play a large role in thwarting any British attack on the city. He picked up his first recruit from Baltimore as well when Lt. Solomon Rutter resigned from a local defense unit and joined the flotilla. Barney even bought Rutter’s ship, the 45-foot Vigilant, which was reputed to be exceptionally fast.30
Those additions aside, Barney found recruiting men extremely difficult. He had to compete for men and officers with the militia, the Army, the Navy, and privateers. The Army was then recruiting men for the 36th Infantry Regiment and offering cash bounties to recruits. Barney asked for permission to do likewise, but Jones turned him down. In December, Barney went to Annapolis, found 138 men willing to leave the 36th Infantry, and asked Jones for permission to enlist them into the flotilla. The Navy secretary agreed, but the company commander, Capt. Joseph Merrick, refused to discharge any of his soldiers for service in the flotilla. Barney complained to Jones, who wrote to Secretary of War Armstrong, who ordered Merrick to release the men. Twenty-six soldiers joined the flotilla, and the Army never forgot it.31
Barney used every means he could find to recruit men. He attempted to absorb the Baltimore detachment of 104 men of the “Corps of Sea Fencibles,” an ad hoc force under the tenuous command of the Army that was solely for defense of harbors and ports. When that plan failed, he turned to Maryland state senator Solomon Frazier, a veteran of the Revolution and a popular Eastern Shore lawmaker. Barney made Frazier a lieutenant in the flotilla and tasked him with recruiting men from his home district in the St. Michaels area. He also played on Marylanders’ patriotism and badgered local militiamen and shipowners. It all paid off, somewhat. By year’s end he had two hundred men—not enough to man all of his warships, but it was a start.32 He would continue to recruit into the new year, when an old enemy returned to the Chesapeake smelling blood.