The Prince de Neufchâtel
One of the most remarkable actions of this war in
which an American privateer was engaged was that between the British
40-gun frigate Endymion, Captain Henry Hope, and the
armed ship Prince de Neufchatel, of New York. The extraordinary
feature of this affair lies in the fact that a vessel fitted out
at private expense actually frustrated the utmost endeavors of
an English frigate, of vastly superior of force in guns and men,
to capture the privateer. As the commander of the Endymion
said, he lost as many men in his efforts to seize the Prince
de Neufchâtel as he would have done had his ship engaged
a regular man-or-war of equal force, and he generously acknowledged
that the people in the privateer conducted their defence in the
most heroic and skilful manner.
That this declaration of Captain Hope was singularly
prophetic will be seen in the fact that this same Endymion,
only three months after her disastrous attack on the Prince
de Neufchâtel, had a running fight of two and a half
hours' duration with the United States 44-gun frigate President,
a sister ship of the famous Constitution, and a vessel
"of equal force" to the Endymion. In the latter
affair the Endymion had eleven men killed and fourteen
wounded, a total of twenty-five out of a complement of three hundred
and fifty. In her attack on the privateer the Endymion
had forty-nine killed, thirty-seven wounded, and thirty of her
crew were made prisoners, a total of one hundred and sixteen as
against the total of twenty-five in her encounter with the President.
From these statements it will be seen that the privateer had quite
as severe a fight as the President, and on this occasion
contributed fully as much to the glory of American maritime prowess.
This notable action occurred off Nantucket on
the night of October 11, 1814. The Prince de Neufchâtel
commanded by Captain J. Ordronaux, was considered a "splendid
vessel" in her day. She was hermaphrodite-rigged craft of
three hundred and ten tons — the Endymion measuring
about one thousand four hundred tons — and mounted seventeen
guns as against the Englishman's fifty guns to say nothing of
the latter's immensely larger calibre. Her complement when she
left New York on her most eventful cruise was about eighty men
and boys, which number had been reduced by drafts for prize crews
to thirty-seven. The Prince de Neufchâtel belonged
to the estate of Mrs Charrten, of New York, who had recently died.
This privateer was one of the many "lucky vessels" of
the war, and made several profitable cruises, in the course of
which she was chased by seventeen different men-of-war, but always
managed to escape through superior seamanship and her great speed.
The goods captured by her from the enemy and brought safely into
port sold for nearly three millions of dollars, besides which
a large amount of specie was secured.
This vessel did not begin her career as a war
craft until the spring of 1814, at which time she was in Cherbourg,
France. Here she was armed and fitted out as a privateer, and
early in March she in the plunged into the thickest of British
commerce in the English Channel, and in one brief cruise made
nine valuable prizes, most of which arrived safely in French ports,
while those of little value were burned.
In June the Prince de Neufchâtel
made another dash against the enemy's shipping, sending six prizes
into Havre between the 4th and 10th of that month, which were
sold. In August this commerce destroyer was in the English Channel,
where she came across a brig that refused to surrender, whereupon
a broadside was poured into the stubborn merchant craft and she
sank. In September the Prince de Neufchâtel destroyed
the brigs Steady, James, Triton (of
two guns, laden with coffee and wine), Apollo, Sibron,
Albion, Charlotte and Mary Ann besides
the sloops Jane and George and the cutter General
Doyle. She also captured and destroyed the transport Aaron,
of four guns, from Gibraltar for Lisbon, and converted the following
prizes into cartels in order to get rid of her constantly accumulating
prisoners-the brigs Berwick Packet, from Cork for Bristol,
which had fifty passengers aboard, and Nymph. She also
captured the ship Harmony, of four guns, and an English
privateer; but the latter was allowed to escape, as, just at the
moment of taking possession, a suspicious sail hove in sight which
proved to be a large war vessel, and the Prince de Neufchâtel
was compelled to make sail in flight. A prize crew had been placed
in the Harmony, with orders to make for the United States,
but a few days later that ship was recaptured. Instead of returning
to a French port after her last cruise, as had been her custom,
the Prince de Neufchâtel made directly for Boston,
where she refitted and put to sea again early in October.
Captain Ordronaux, of the Prince de Neufchâtel,
was a seaman of unusual ability. At the outbreak of hostilities
between the United States and Great Britain he commanded the French
privateer Marengo. It was this vessel that Captain Richard
Byron, of the British 36-gun frigate Belvidera was so
earnestly watching, on June 23, 1812, off these same -Nantucket
Shoals, when Captain John Rodgers' squadron, having the President
as a flagship, came along and chased the Englishman away. At that
time the Marengo was in New London, quite as earnestly
watching for a chance to pounce upon the English brig Lady
Sherlock expected daily from Halifax bound for Jamaica with
an exceedingly valuable cargo. It proved to be very much like
a cat watching a mouse to prevent it from getting a morsel of
cheese when the bulldog Rodgers came tumbling along,
chased the cat, Belvidera, into Halifax, when the mouse,
Marengo, pounced upon the unsuspecting Lady Sherlock
as she was passing by and carried her safely into New York, August
10, 1812.
It was on the very scene of this cat-dog-mouse-and-cheese
comedy, enacted in 1812, that the Prince de Neufchâtel,
on the night of October 11, 1814, made one of the most heroic
defences in maritime history. At this time the British squadron
blockading the port of New York consisted of the 56-gun frigate
Magestic, Captain John Hayes; the 40-gun frigate Endymion,
Captain Henry Hope; and the 38-gun frigate Pomone, Captain
John Richard Lumley. The Endymion had been sent to Halifax
for repairs, and it was while she was returning from that port
to her station off New York that she fell in with the Prince
de Neufchâtel.
At noon, October 11th — October 9th according
to English accounts — while the Prince de Neufchâtel,
then only a few days out of Boston, was about half a mile to the
south of Nantucket Shoals, Captain Ordronaux discovered a sail
off Gay Head, and as it promptly gave chase he was satisfied that
it was a ship of force, and made his preparations accordingly.
Knowing that few, if any, of the American frigates were on the
high seas at that time, owing to the rigor of the British blockade,
Captain Ordronaux made every effort to escape, being satisfied
that the stranger was a British frigate. Unfortunately for the
privateer, she was so situated as to be becalmed at the moment,
while the stranger was holding a fresh breeze and coming up very
fast. The Prince de Neufchatel had in tow the prize she
recently captured, the English merchant ship Douglas,
which the Americans were anxious to get safely into port.
At three o'clock in the afternoon the privateer
caught the breeze, and, as the Englishman was still some twelve
miles distant, hopes were entertained of effecting a timely retreat.
By seven o'clock in the evening it was calm at which time the
three vessels were in sight of one another. Finding that the current
was sweeping him shoreward, Captain Ordronaux cast off his tow,
and the two vessels came to anchor about a quarter of a mile apart.
An hour and a half later, when it was quite dark,
the people in the prize signalled, as previously agreed upon,
that several boats were approaching from the frigate, apparently
with the intention of attacking the privateer under cover of night.
Observing the signal, Captain Ordronaux called all hands, and
made every preparation for giving the British a warm reception.
As soon as the English boats, which were under the command of
Lieutenant Abel Hawkins, the first lieutenant of the Endymion,
could be distinguished in the night, the privateer began a rapid
discharge of her great guns and small arms. Paying no attention
whatever to this the English gallantly dashed ahead, and in a
few moments were alongside the Prince de Neufchâtel
and endeavouring to clamber up her sides. The enemy had planned
the attack with considerable skill, for almost at the same moment
it was reported to Captain Ordronaux that an English boat was
on each side, one on each bow and one under the stern — five
craft in all, completely surrounding the privateer, and compelling
her crew to face five different points of attack at once.
This was the beginning of a desperate and bloody
struggle, in which men fought like wild beasts and grappled with
each other in deadly embrace. Knives, pistols, cutlasses, marline
spikes, belaying pins — anything that could deal an effective
blow were in requisition, while even bare fists, finger nails,
and teeth came into play. Captain Ordronaux himself fired some
eighty shots at the enemy. Springing up the sides of the vessel
the British would endeavour to gain her deck, but every attempt
was met with deadly blows bv the sturdy defenders of the craft.
A few of the British succeeded in gaining the decks and took the
Americans in the rear, but the latter promptly turned on the enemy
and dispatched them. It was well understood by the crew of the
privateer that Captain Ordronaux had avowed his determination
of never being taken alive by the British, and that lie would
blow up his ship, with all hands, before striking his colours.
At one period of the fight, when the British had gained the deck,
and were gradually driving the Americans back, Ordronaux seized
a lighted match, ran to the companion way, directly over the magazine,
and called out to his men that he would blow the ship up if they
retreated further. The threat had the desired effect, the Americans
rallied for a final struggle, overpowered the enemy, and drove
the few survivors into their boats.
Such a sanguinary fight could not be of long
duration, and at the end of twenty minutes the English cried out
for quarter, upon which the Americans ceased firing. It was found
that of the five barges one had been sunk, three had drifted off
from alongside apparently without a living person in them, and
the fifth boat was taken possession of by the Americans. There
were forty-three men in the barge that was sunk, of whom only
two were rescued; the remainder, it is supposed, were caught by
the swift current, carried beyond the reach of help, and drowned.
The boat seized by the Americans contained thirty-six men at the
beginning of the action, of whom eight were killed and twenty
were wounded, leaving only eight unhurt. The entire number of
men in the five barges was one hundred and twenty, including the
officers, marines, and boys. The entire number of men in the privateer
fit for duty at the beginning of the action was thirty-seven,
of those seven were killed and twenty-four wounded. Among the
killed was Charles Hilburn, a Nantucket Pilot, who had been taken
out of a fishing vessel. Among the British killed were First Lieutenant
Hawkins and a master's mate, while the second lieutenant, two
master's mates, and two midshipmen were wounded.
"So determined amid effective a resistance,"
says an English naval historian, did great credit to the American
captain and his crew. On the 31st the Endymion fell in with the
56-gun ship Saturn, Captain James Nash, bound for Halifax, and,
sending on board, with her surgeon and his servant, twenty eight
wounded officers and men, received from the Saturn, to replace
the severe loss she had sustained, one lieutenant, four midshipmen,
and thirty-three seamen and marines."
Captain Ordronaux now found himself in possession
of so many prisoners that they outnumbered his own able-bodied
men, there remaining only eight seamen unhurt in the privateer,
while there were thirty prisoners to take care of. As a matter
of precaution, Captain Ordronaux allowed only the second lieutenant
of the Endymion three midshipmen — two of them desperately wounded
— and one wounded master's mate to come aboard; while the other
prisoners, after having all their arms, oars, etc., taken from
them, were kept in the launch under the stern of the Prince
de Neufchâtel, where there would be less danger of
attempting to overpower the few surviving Americans, capture the
ship, and release their officers.
Anxious to be rid of his dangerous prisoners
Captain Ordronaux, on the following morning, signed an agreement
with the lieutenant, midshipmen, and master's mates, in behalf
of themselves and the British seamen and marines, not to serve
against the United States again in this war unless duly exchanged.
Under this agreement the prisoners were placed on shore at Nantucket
by the privateer's launch, and were taken charge of by the United
States marshal. Most of the American and English wounded also
were sent ashore, where they could secure better attention.
Additional information on this action appears
in the 1861 edition.
The Prince de Neufchâtel, as soon
as the wind served, got under way, and easily evading the Endymion,
ran into Boston Harbour, October 15th. On gaining port Captain
Ordronaux retired from the command of this lucky privateer and
became a part owner.
Her first officer in the fight with the Endymion
succeeded to the command after promising "never to surrender
the craft." He is described by one of the crew as "a
Jew by persuasion, a Frenchman by birth, an American for convenience,
and so diminutive in stature as to make it appear ridiculous,
in the eyes of others, even for him to enforce authority among
a hardy, weather-beaten crew should they do aught against his
will." Her first officer is described as a man who never
uttered an angry or harsh word, made no use of profane language,
but was terrible, even in his mildness, when faults occurred through
carelessness or neglect. He knew what each man's duty was and
his capacity for fulfilling it, never putting more to the men's
tasks than they were able to get through with; but every jot and
tittle must be performed, and that to the very letter, without
flinching, or the task would be doubled. While manoeuvring the
men he would go through with the various duties without oaths,
bluster, or even loud words, and do more in less time than all
the other officers on board, with their harsh threatenings, profane
swearings, or loud bawlings through their speaking trumpets. The
men honored and obeyed him, and would have fought with any odds
at his bidding." The second officer was put down as a "mere
nobody."
The third officer had been a warrant officer
in the Constitution during her engagements with the Guerriere
and Java, but was discharged for "un-officer-like
conduct," and had shipped in the Prince de Neufchâtel.
He proved to be an indifferent officer, and his negligence was
the cause of the capture of the privateer on her next cruise.
On the night of December 21st the Prince
de Neufchâtel, in spite of the vigilance of the British
blockading force off Boston, got to sea. On the fifth day out
she encountered a terrific storm which lasted several days, and
came near ending the career of this formidable craft. "The
morning of December 28th," records one of the American crew,
"broke with no prospect of the gale ceasing, and the brig
looked more like a wreck than the stanch and proud craft of the
week previous. She was stripped to her stumps, all her yards,
except her fore and fore-topsail, were on deck, her rigging in
disorder, and the decks lumbered and in confusion from the effects
of the sea which had so often broken over them during the past
night."
"Much of this confusion was attributable
to the third officer, who had the watch from 4 AM to 8 AM. When
he was relieved by the first officer, at 8 AM, the latter severely
reprimanded the third officer, and, among other things, asked
if a sharp lookout had been maintained, and replied that the last
man sent to the masthead had left his post without being relieved,
and without the third officer knowing that the brig had, been
without a lookout all that time…I saw the fire — or what
was its equal, anger — flash from the first lieutenant's eves
at this remissness of duty , and he instantly gave an order for
the best man on board to go to the masthead, there to remain till
ordered down."
This man had not been at his post ten minutes
when he reported a large sail bearing down on the Prince de
Neufchâtel, and shortly afterward two others, apparently
heavy men-of-war, making every effort to close on the privateer.
These strangers were, in fact, the British frigates Leander,
Newcastle, and Acasta, composing Sir George
Collier's squadron, which had been off Boston, but was now hastening
across the Atlantic in search of the Constitution [which]
had eluded them off Boston and was now at sea.
As soon as the strangers were discovered the
Prince de Neufchatel was put on her best point of sailing,
but in spite of every effort — the massive frigates having a
great advantage over her in the heavy seas and wind — she was
soon surrounded and captured. Only a few minutes after the surrender
one of the frigates lost her jib boom, fore and main topgallant
roasts and broke her mizzen topsail yard in the slings, while
another frigate carried away her mizzen topsail, main topgallant
yard, and strained her fore-topsail yard so as to endanger it
by carrying sail. Had the approach of the enemy been discovered
when they made out the privateer the Prince de Neufchatel
would have escaped.
"At the time of our capture," said
one of the privateer's crew, "there were on board five or
six French and Portuguese seamen who had belonged to the brig
during her former cruisings, and who appeared to be on good terms
with the captain but had no intercourse with the crew. They messed
by themselves and had as little to say to the Americans as the
Americans manifested disposition to associate with them. These
men were overheard to say, more than once during the chase, that
the brig, never would be taken by the frigates, assigning reason
why only, 'She shall never be under a British flag.' One of the
men had been a prisoner of war ten times, and declared he would
sooner go to the bottom of the ocean than again to prison. To
this no one objected, provided he went without company; for he
was a Frenchman by birth, a Calmuc in appearance, a savage in
disposition, a cut-throat at heart, and a devil incarnate. Our
first lieutenant kept a strict eye upon this coterie during the
whole day that the chase continued, the idea strengthening, as
the captain held on his course long after any hope remained of
the chance of getting clear of the frigates, that all was not
right. In the hurry of the moment [the surrender] at our rounding
to, Jose, one of the men above spoken of, seized a brand from
the caboose, proceeded toward the magazine, would have carried
his diabolical intentions into effect only for the vigilance of
our ever-watchful lieutenant, who checked him ere too late, brought
him on deck, nor quit his hold till the brand was cast overboard
and the dastard thrown thrice his length by an indignant thrust
of the lieutenant's powerful arm."
With much difficulty a small boarding party from
the Leander took possession of the privateer, but as the sea and
wind remained heavy, it was found to be impossible to send a second
detachment aboard. Realising their advantage, the American officers,
about half an hour before midnight, rallied their men, with a
view of recapturing the brig, but on gaining the deck they observed
that the condition of her spars and sails was such as to render
such a move hopeless and the attempt was given up.
On the following day the prisoners were taken
aboard the Leander, where the Americans noticed a large
placard nailed to her mainmast, on which were written these words:
"Reward of £100 to the man who shall first descry the
American frigate Constitution provided she can be brought
to, and a smaller reward should they not be enabled to come up
with her." The Leander had been fitted out expressly
to capture Old Ironsides, and had a picked crew of more than five
hundred men. "Every one [in the Leander],"
continues the record, "was eager in his inquiries about this
far-fancied frigate, and most of the men appeared anxious to fall
in with her, she being a constant theme of conversation, speculation,
and curiosity. There were, however, two seamen and a marine —
one of whom had had his shin sadly shattered from one of her [the
Constitution's] grapeshot — who were in the frigate
Java when she was captured. These I have often heard
say, in return to their shipmates' boasting 'If you had seen as
much of the Constitution as we have, you would give her
a wide berth, for she throws her shot almighty careless, fires
quick, aims low, and is altogether an ugly customer."
The thoroughly American spirit of the Prince
de Neufchâtel's crew is well brought out in the account
of one of her men. After being taken aboard the Leander,
the prisoners were stowed away in the cable tier — a miserable
hole at the bottom of the ship, where the anchor cables were stored.
Here the Americans were compelled to remain from 4 PM. to 8 AM
every twenty-four hours.
To while away the time they resorted to singing.
"One night," says one of the men, "it was understood
that some of our naval-victory songs were not well relished by
the officers on deck, which only brought out others with a louder
chorus than before and an extra 'hurrah for the Yankee thunders.'
At this half a dozen of the best English songsters were picked,
with some dozen to join in their choruses. These assembled around
the hatch above us for the purpose of silencing us, singing us
down, or to rival us in noisy melody and patriotic verse. They
were allowed to finish their songs unmolested by us, but the moment
they were through we struck up with ours, each one striving to
outdo his shipmate, especially in the choruses."
"Knowing that the character of our country
was at stake and that it depended much upon our zeal and good
management whether it should be upheld in the face of our enemies,
we strove accordingly to do our best as its representatives…The
contest was kept up for some time, evidently to our advantage,
not only as to the quality of the singing — for in this our opponents
could not hold their own a moment — but to the number and subject
of the songs, they having run out with their victories over the
Yankees before our party was fairly warm with the contest. That
they should not flag at the game, they took up with the First
of June, the Battle of the Nile, besides many others, and we told
them, in plain English, that they were dodging the contest. This
they cared far less for than they did for a home-thrust victory
over them from the Yankees to each one of theirs over the French.
At last our fire became so warm that they were compelled to back
out, chopfallen, and they had the satisfaction of having their
defeat announced to all on board by three-times-three cheers from
the victors, accompanied with the clapping of hands and such other
noises as each and all could invent in our zeal to outdo one another
and uphold the honour of the country we hailed from, whose emblem
is the Stars and Stripes."
"Word came from the deck that such noises
could not be tolerated and that we must be quiet. This only aroused
the prisoners to greater exertions. In a few minutes the officer
of the deck came down with blustering threats. If the most savage
tribe of Indians had at once broken loose with a terrific war
whoop it could not have been louder nor more grating to the ear
than the screaming that followed the termination of the watch
officer's speech, who, when he could get a hearing, tried to reason
as to the absurdity of the prisoners persisting, saying, 'The
order of the ship must and shall be maintained; if by no other
means, I will order the marines to fire into the hold.' This threat
also was responded to by jeers, and soon afterward a line of marines
drew up at the hatchway and prepared to shoot. This menace was
met with louder jeers than before."
"Crackaway, my Johnny! You can make killing
no murder, but you can't easily mend the shot holes in your best
bower cable!' 'Hurrah for Old Ironsides! 'Three cheers for the
gallant Perry!' 'Down here, you Johnny Bull, and learn manners
from your betters!' were a few of the shouts that saluted the
ears of the marines. The officer, not daring to fire on the prisoners,
now withdrew his marines, and was followed by the derisive shouts
of the prisoners…The noises were kept up till morning broke,
not allowing the wardroom officers a moments rest, as they were
situated on the deck immediately above us." The next night
the prisoners began their pandemonium again, but the officers
arranged a number of 42-pound shot on the deck, just over the
prisoners heads, and started them rolling." As they passed
from one side to the other, at each roll of the ship, with a low,
harsh, thunder-like rumbling, as deafening as dreadful and more
horrible than the booming of ten thousand Chinese gongs, intermingling
with as many bell clappers, set in motion by one who is sworn
to drown all else by his own noisy clatter, they made a noise
little less than a discharge of artillery." This proved to
be too much for our gallant tars, and they gradually gave up the
contest.
Arriving at Fayal, Sir George transferred his
prisoners to the sloop of war Pheasant, in which they
were taken to England…
