The vitally important relation of naval bases to naval operations is strikingly illustrated by the extraordinary cruise of Commodore Porter in the Pacific Ocean during the War of 1812. Seldom, if ever, has this famous cruise of the Frigate Essex been examined from such an angle, and there seems to be no general recognition of the valuable lessons which may be drawn from it, especially as to the compelling influence of bases upon the ability of naval ships to protect or raid maritime commerce.
Porter’s activities had three main phases; in each the want of a proper base seriously hampered success. At first the object was to injure the enemy in the South Atlantic where Britain had an important trade passing to both South America and to India via Cape of Good Hope. The difficulty of obtaining necessary supplies in these waters reduced the Essex to such straits that she could not remain there. Rather than risk probable capture while returning home by a direct route, which the shortage of supplies would force upon him, Porter made the bold decision to round the tempestuous Horn and fill his needs from neutral ports and prospective prizes.
The second phase was a precarious race between acute privation on the one hand, and on the other replenishment by capture, by hunting and fishing, through purchase from South Americans of doubtful attitude, or by coercion of savage tribes. The want of a well-stocked base made such measures indispensable to the livelihood of the crew and the material maintenance of the ship. The latter need finally forced upon Porter the military conquest of the island of Nukahiva in order to secure a port in which to refit the Essex and her prizes.
In the final phase of the cruise, involving the capture of the Essex at Valparaiso, the want of a base again assumed a major r61e. Confronted with hostile superiority afloat, denied any support from ashore, depleted in personnel from casualties, sickness, and the necessity of manning prizes, besides being battered and weakened in material by hard service, the loss of the Essex could not be avoided. A proper base could have filled all the several requirements indicated, prevented her capture, and enabled her to continue her effective protection of American commerce together with depredations upon enemy commerce in the Pacific.
Cruising the Atlantic Without Bases
When the frigate Essex sailed out of the Delaware in October, 1812, she had on board “stock, vegetables, and other stores, in as large quantities as could be stowed” (Porter’s Journal). Captain Porter was well aware of the acute difficulties in the matter of general supplies which would face him on the distant Brazil coast where he was bound for a rendezvous with Bainbridge in the Constitution.
Once clear of the home seaboard, in all the great Atlantic, North or South, there was no base to which he might go for supplies or repairs. Even in the neutral ports along his route essential aid might be obtained only through the very doubtful favor of local officials.
For these reasons “previous to leaving the river (Delaware) the crew had been put on allowance of half a gallon of water,” the ration of bread was reduced by half although an extra quantity of potatoes and apples was issued in its place. “Every other article of provisions was reduced one-third, excepting rum.” Special arrangements were made for catching rain water.
These wise precautions proved doubly necessary when a large amount of provisions was spoiled by salt water taken on board during an early gale. Ironically enough, this was partly due to the great quantity of stores which had been loaded. “The ship being very deep, we found her unusually laborsome and uncomfortable; her straining occasioned by her deep rolling opened her waterways, and kept the berth deck full of water,” where many provisions were stowed.
When three weeks out the unwelcome information was received that “an embargo had been laid on American vessels in the Brazils on the news of war.” This came from a Portuguese brig which was boarded, and the restrictions presumably applied to all Portuguese ports, including Port Praya (Cape Verde Islands) whither the Essex was now bound as the first stopping point.
This place was therefore approached with strong misgivings and before anchoring Porter sent Lieutenant Downes ashore to propitiate the Governor and report the ship as “an American frigate wanting supplies,” of which water and fresh meat and vegetables were principally required. Throughout the cruise Porter was remarkably insistent upon obtaining fresh food for his crew at every opportunity in order to safeguard their health. Stores he might replace from shore or prizes; men were practically irreplaceable. Thus his most difficult logistic problem was that of personnel. Nowhere was there available an American base or port to fill up the gaps in his crew which were certain to occur if prizes were to be manned. Deficiencies from sickness had therefore to be guarded against with the extreme care which he constantly exercised. In respect to personnel the want of adequate bases was as acutely felt as in any other of the major needs.
The Governor of Port Praya was surprisingly co-operative. The island itself was destitute of bread because of the cessation of American commerce since the beginning of the war. Porter therefore sent the Governor a barrel of flour and one of pork and so pleased him with other attentions that the Essex had no great difficulty in filling up with water and obtaining large quantities of fresh food.
Thus replenished the ship sailed towards Brazil. The “chief care was now the health of my people; and all the means that suggested themselves to my mind to effect this great object were adopted. The utmost cleanliness was required” and the crew was mustered every morning and “strictly examined by their officers.” Special care was taken to preserve the fresh fruit and to use it economically. The live stock on board went to an early slaughter in order to economize water.
On December 12, the first prize was taken. “She proved to be his majesty’s packet Nocton, bound to Falmouth, of 10 guns and 31 men” having on board $55,000 in specie; a welcome accession of funds which was another requirement that would be difficult of fulfillment without a base. Fifteen men and officers were sent on board the prize to take her home.
On the next day the Essex touched at the island of Fernando de Noronha, one of the rendezvous fixed by Bainbridge. The ship was disguised as a merchantman and Lieutenant Downes was sent ashore in plain clothes. He obtained the secret instructions left by Bainbridge to meet off Cape Frio, northward of Rio. Through various vicissitudes the two ships missed each other, and on account of reports of superior British forces in the vicinity Porter finally put in at St. Catherine, south of Rio.
The ship was badly in need of wood and water. Moreoever, Porter reports that since leaving the United States “the crew have been on two-thirds allowance of salt provisions, generally on half allowance of bead, and full allowance of rum.” He had
found it necessary to reduce the allowance of rum, in the same proportion as the salt provisions, when every man in the ship refused to receive any of that precious liquor, unless he could get full allowance; stating that when there should be no more on board, they would willingly go without; but so long as it lasted they wished their full allowance. However, as there was but a small quantity in the ship, and believing that a sudden privation of it altogether would cause dejection and sickness among them, I determined that the grog-tub should be upset in fifteen minutes after they were called to grog; the consequence was that every man hastened to the tub for fear of losing his allowance. After this no further complaint was made.
Within three days the most urgent deficiencies of wood and water had been made good, but St. Catherine was such a small place that “the quantity of bread wanting could not be procured in a month.” Five puncheons of rum, fresh beef for two days, some onions, and a few bags of flour were all that could be procured of those items. Learning of the recent arrival at Rio of a British re-enforcement of a frigate and two brigs of war, Porter determined to put hastily to sea for fear of being blockaded as soon as the news of his presence leaked through to the enemy. He left port after dark, on January 25, with the loss of one anchor and leaving two stragglers from his crew ashore, deficiencies which would be hard to replace in the future.
Porter was now faced with a very difficult problem requiring immediate decision, and his solution of it stamps him as a highly resourceful and resolute officer, fully meriting his enviable reputation. He was “perfectly at a loss where to find the Commodore (Bainbridge)” who “had departed from his original intentions and had already disappointed me at three rendezvous.” The Essex had but three months’ supply of bread “at half allowance” and there was no port on that coast where she could “procure a supply, without the certainty of capture, or blockade (which I consider as bad).”
Driven by necessity arising from having no base in that vicinity, Porter was forced to leave it. He eliminated the alternative of returning to the United States because the attempt, “at a season of the year when our coast would be swarming with the enemy’s cruisers, would be running too much risk” and would be directly contrary to his general instructions. There was the possibility of “going off St. Helena’s to intercept the returning India- men” but “the state of . . . provisions would not admit of” it. Porter
therefore determined to pursue that course which would be best calculated to injure the enemy, and would enable me to prolong my cruise. This could only be done by going into a friendly port, where I could increase my supplies without the danger of blockade, and the first place that presented itself to my mind was the port of Conception, on the coast of Chile. The season, to be sure, was far advanced for doubling Cape Horn; our stock of provisions was short, and the ship in other respects not well supplied with stores for so long a cruise: but there appeared no other choice left for me, except capture, starvation, or blockade.
This was an exceedingly bold decision. Already in want and 4,000 miles from an adequate source of maintenance, he chose to increase his distance from American bases to 11,000 miles, and at the same time to put behind him the rigors of Cape Horn, which would be certain to add very greatly to the need of repairs and general supplies. While no American man-of-war had yet penetrated into the then almost unknown Pacific, Porter was well aware that the difficulties and dangers confronting him were extreme. He knew that “the undertaking was greater than had yet been engaged in by any single ship on similar pursuits.” Before the declaration of war he had studied the problem of a raid in the Pacific and submitted a plan for it, with the double object of annoying British commerce and protecting American whalers there. This had met with tentative approval from the Secretary of the Navy and Commodore Bainbridge, so that he was reasonably well assured now that higher authority would not seriously object to his hazardous enterprise.
Raiding the Pacific
Approaching the boisterous cape, with the vacuum of facilities beyond, severe economies were practiced “in everything that related to the ship’s stores.” Porter directed that “nothing whatever, of the most trifling nature, should be issued from the storerooms without my orders.” Rations were reduced to an allowance “barely sufficient to satisfy the cravings of nature.” “Every man in the ship was in want of a pair” of shoes and more woolens which could not be supplied from the low stock. The cables of both bower anchors were found to be defective, and half of each cut to avoid the loss of another anchor, additional to the one already left in the mud at St. Catherine.
We need not follow the tempestuous and tedious passage of the Horn against extreme gales and mountainous seas, lasting nearly three weeks. Hull and spars were constantly subjected to terrific strains from the severe pitching and rolling. The ship made a great deal of water. Her waterways grew more and more open and her upper works worked “considerably.” On March 3,
an enormous sea broke over the ship, and for an instant destroyed every hope. Our gun-deck ports were burst in; both boats on the quarter-deck stove; our spare spars washed from the chains; our headrails washed away, hammock stanchions burst in, and the ship perfectly deluged and water-logged, immediately after this tremendous shock.
That the good ship Essex sorely needed the facilities of a good repair base upon her final clearance of the violent weather about Cape Horn needs no argument. Yet the demands of her crew for mere food were even more urgent. Not until there was “a fair prospect of soon getting round” had the captain “to the great joy of all on board, ordered the allowance of bread to be increased to two-thirds.” The passage had been a race with starvation, in addition to its other hazards, and there were but few towns in all the eastern Pacific where relief could be obtained. The immediate need was filled by stopping the uninhabited island of Mocha and shooting wild hogs and horses.
“Having only one chart of the whole coast of America and that on so small & scale as not to be relied on but for the direction of the coast, projection of headlands, etc.,” Captain Porter was forced to navigate very cautiously. Notwithstanding the extremity for supplies and repairs, the fog deterred him from venturing into Conception, the first available place, and he proceeded on towards Valparaiso. On the way the main topsail yard was found to be badly sprung and he was “compelled to get it down and replace it with another, which we were so fortunate as to have on board.”
Americans should never forget the cordiality and kindness of the Chileans to the battered Essex and her ragged and hungry crew upon arrival at Valparaiso in March, 1813. Lieutenant Downes was sent shore with a message to the Governor that “we were an American frigate greatly in need of supplies of every kind; that our wants were greatly augmented by the loss of our storeship off Cape Horn; and that we were throwing ourselves on his hospitality.” In his dire need, so far from home, Porter did not even have so much of an essential base as might be represented by a fictitious storeship. It was the want of an essential base which more than anything else was to prove his ultimate undoing.
A wholly unexpected and immensely fortunate circumstance was that the Chileans had recently shaken off their allegiance to Spain, and now “looked up to the United States of America for example and protection.” Their commerce had been harassed by Peruvian privateers sent out by the Spanish viceroy of that province. Several American whalers had also been taken by these Peruvian vessels. Porter was just elated. The best that he had hoped for was that under many irksome restrictions he could “extort from them, under plea of distress, permission to take in a few provisions, and to fill our water.” Instead he found an enthusiastic ally eager to be of the greatest help.
But for this great stroke of good luck it is difficult to see how the Essex could have successfully pursued her further operations. With Peruvian authorities actively hostile, there were no ports on the entire west coast of South America, except in Chile, where the indispensable services of a base could be obtained. To retrace the course homeward around Cape Horn in her crippled condition was out of the question. To rely almost wholly upon living off of prizes was precarious in the extreme. It is only by constantly bearing in mind these extraordinarily difficult logistic problems which confronted the bolt Porter that we can get any true appreciation of the brilliance of his cruise or draw any fruitful lessons for the present day as to the inherently compelling need of naval bases, if ships are to operate successfully.
Thanks to the hospitality of the friendly Chileans, the liberally restocked Essex was able to sail from Valparaiso after a week. On the way towards Callao she overhauled a Peruvian privateer which had captured two American whalers. After throwing overboard the privateer’s guns and ammunition, Porter released her with a note of warning to the viceroy. At the entrance to Callao the Essex overtook and freed an American whaler from her prize crew.
These incidents served both as a valuable protection to American commerce and an indispensable source of information to Porter. From the liberated Americans he learned that the British whalers, for which he had looked long and eagerly, in vain, habitually cruised about the Galapagos Islands. To this vicinity the Essex accordingly proceeded, arriving on April 17, 1813.
“Here wood is to be obtained, and land tortoises in great numbers, which are highly esteemed for their excellence, and are remarkable for their size, weighing from 300 to 400 weight each.” But the lack of water was a serious deficiency during the next six months during which Porter cruised about these islands. More than once he would have been forced to leave but for the capture of a prize with a supply on board. Late in May, for example, Porter records the capture of the whaler Atlantic which “had on board about 100 tons of water, an article of more value to us than anything else; for we scarcely had water remaining on board our own ship, to take us even to the island of Cocos” (about 400 miles distant). In June he was forced to go to the Tumbez River, on the mainland, for water. Here a few provisions were also obtained before returning to the Galapagos.
In all the Essex took twelve British whalers in this vicinity, which was nearly half the total in the Pacific, and sufficient to break up the whole trade, since the others were driven to cover. They were larger than the average merchant ship and exceedingly “well found.” One prize was converted into the U.S.S. Essex Junior and placed under the command of Lieutenant Downes. From the prizes Porter obtained clothing for his crew, and
An abundant supply of cordage, canvas, paint, tar, and every other article necessary for the ship, of all of which she stood in great need, as our slender stock brought from America had now become worn out and useless.
The general condition of the Essex’s cordage at this time was a serious matter. Porter states that
On examining the breechings of the guns, I found them entirely rotten and unserviceable. This gave me great uneasiness, for fear that I should not be able to remedy the evil; but on searching among the prizes, we found suitable rope to answer the purpose.
Another item is especially worth noting. “Among other precious articles,” says Porter in June, “I was so fortunate as to obtain (from the captured ships) a new cable sufficiently large for the Essex.” In the following March it was to be the parting of an anchor cable, and then the carrying away of a main topmast, which were to force her into action in a crippled condition against hostile superiority.
But after six months in the Galapagos vicinity it was not merely cordage which the Essex urgently required of a base. The ship herself was in need of an extensive overhauling. She was overrun with destructive rats which could be killed only by smoking out the ship. They were destroying provisions, clothing, sails, etc., eating through water casks and thereby wasting that invaluable fluid, and even “getting into the magazine and destroying our cartridges.” Then also the copper was coming off the ship’s bottom in many places. She needed to be caulked and hove out to repair the copper and to clean the bottom generally. Her rigging called for a general overhauling. In short, the services of a base of some sort were absolutely necessary. The nearest American base was 11,000 miles away, with Cape Horn between.
There was but one solution to this very serious embarrassment. Porter must take possession of a base. He chose the Marquesas Islands. “The repairs and smoking of my ship were paramount to every other consideration, and I knew of no place where I could be more likely to do it undisturbed.” Those islands also offered ample fresh provisions and much needed recreation for the crew.
Our First Over-Seas Base
The Essex had been the first American man-of-war to pass the Cape of Good Hope into the Indian Ocean, and the first to round Cape Horn into the Pacific. She was now, in October, 1813, to be the first to establish an exclusively American overseas naval base. In previous wars we had been obliged to use the ports of friendly foreign powers to serve our ships operating at a distance from home. At the beginning the natives of Nukahiva were amicable enough, and the Essex with five of her prizes, including the Essex Junior, moored in the sheltered harbor. An armed camp was promptly established on shore to which everything from the flagship removed so that her extensive repairs could be properly undertaken. An entirely new set of water casks had also to be made for her.
The natives were placed under requisition (with due compensation) for fresh provisions for the Americans. The tribe near the base was frequently annoyed by the depredation of the Happas who inhabited an adjacent valley, despite warnings from Porter. Finally, the Commodore was persuaded to assist his allies by re-enforcing their detachments in the mountain passes with a small party of seamen and marines together with a 6-pounder. This force sufficiently chastised the Happas to establish good relations and obtain a regular supply of food from them. But Porter was not to continue to enjoy the security of his base so easily. For this he was ultimately forced to fight with nearly all the resources at his command.
Meantime the island was formally taken possession of for the United States on November 19 and renamed Madison’s Island. The fort ashore became Fort Madison, the village Madisonville, and the harbor Massachusetts Bay. On the occasion of these ceremonies Porter read a formal declaration, the Stars and Stripes were hoisted over the fort and saluted with seventeen guns, which were returned by the ships. A copy of the declaration and several pieces of American money were buried in a glass bottle at the foot of the flagstaff on Fort Madison. The subsequent failure of our government to confirm this astute action of Porter’s prevents our having these strategically and immensely valuable islands today.
Friction gradually developed with Typees, a warlike tribe living near the coast, but separated from Madisonville by high mountains. They sent insulting messages to the Commodore, refused to supply provisions, and became so defiant and threatening as seriously to disaffect the better disposed tribes near by. Since there were upwards of 20,000 warriors among the various tribes on the entire island, Porter could not expect to be able to maintain his base there if his prestige were substantially impaired.
By November 27, the situation had grown so acute that Porter reluctantly concluded “that it was absolutely necessary to bring the Typees to terms, or endanger our good understanding with the other tribes, and consequently our own safety.” On the first expedition against them he made the mistake of employing too small a force of Americans. The 35 sailors and marines, though theoretically supported by the presence of 5,000 friendly natives, had to do all the fighting. The attackers were greeted with showers of stones from several thousand Typees behind entrenchments. Lieutenant Downes, commanding the advance, had his leg bone shattered and had to be carried to the rear. After some hours of fighting in a tropical thicket no further progress could be made and with some difficulty the force was safely withdrawn.
The reverse naturally aggravated the precariousness of Porter’s general situation and made it more than ever necessary to fight for his base. The behavior of the friendly natives convinced him that they soon would join the enemy unless American prestige was quickly restored. He hastily organized a force of 200 picked men, all that could be spared from the base, and again marched against the Typees.
Severe resistance was again met with, but after three nights and two days of hard campaigning most of the Typee villages had been burned and the spirit of their owners duly humbled. Peace was now easily established, and soon “the utmost harmony” reigned throughout the island, much to the delight of all the tribes no less than of the Americans.
As the extensive repairs to the Essex approached completion, early in December the Commodore made preparations for another cruise against British commerce. The Essex Junior was to accompany him. One of the prizes was dispatched to the United States. Three others were
Safely moored under the fort, and placed under the charge of Lieutenant Gamble, of the Marines, who, with Midshipman Feltus and 21 men, volunteered to remain with them until my return, or until they could receive further orders from me. (Porter’s Journal.)
Thus was the base to be held. The security which it offered for repairs and the precious stock of naval stores remaining in the holds of the prizes might well be imperatively necessary should the Essex or her consort encounter units of the Royal Navy. It had to be assumed that by this time information of Porter’s presence and success in the Pacific had reached the enemy and that strong hostile forces had been sent after the bold American.
As Mahan has pointed out, cruisers engaged in distant operations against commerce, or for its protection, are severely and principally limited in the scope, duration, and success of their activities by the availability of naval bases. The campaign now under discussion is a valuable example of this, from our own historical experience.
Finally sailing on December 9, 1813, from the Marquesas base, very appropriately left to the custody of a marine officer, the Commodore proceeded to the island of Mocha, which had been his first anchorage after rounding Cape Horn nearly a year before. Again he cruised from there towards Valparaiso, looking for prizes.
Once more the Chileans showed the Americans great hospitality upon their arrival in February and there was no difficulty in obtaining supplies. The uncertainty and danger of depending upon neutral ports for bases was convincingly demonstrated, however, upon the arrival of the British frigate Phoebe with her consort, the Cherub.
Notwithstanding the scrupulous regard for Chilean neutrality shown by Porter under great provocation (when on taking his anchorage Captain Hillyar inexcusably almost fouled the Essex), Chilean sentiment quickly turned British. In part this seems to have been due to the apparent superiority of the British squadron.
Another strong influence was the fact that Hillyar came as a mediator between the viceroy of Peru and the Chilean officials who were then in power through revolt. Ultimately Hillary succeeded in composing the Chilean differences and in having the royal authorities restored to power, for which he was made an hidalgo. Meantime he turned the tide of public favor so far towards himself as to feel free to violate Chilean neutrality with impunity by attacking the Essex close inshore.
This furnishes but one of many incidents in history to prove that the fickle protection of a neutral port is a bad substitute for the security of one’s own base. Had Porter been at Nukahiva when attacked by the Phoebe, even light shore defenses in support should have sufficed to save the Essex and perhaps to result in the capture of the Phoebe. It is outside the theme of his paper to describe the well-known action between the British and Americans at Valparaiso. The purpose here is merely to note the influence of Porter’s great handicap incident to his want of a proper base.
In addition to the political factors just mentioned, relating to Chilean neutrality, there was the imminence of a powerful British naval concentration in the South Pacific. Besides the Phoebe and Cherub, already present at Valparaiso, Porter “had gained certain intelligence that the Tagus, rated 38, and two other frigates” were coming from the Atlantic, and also the Racoon from the northwest coast of America.
While previously he had sought an opportunity to engage the Phoebe when she was unsupported by the Cherub, he now wisely decided upon escape. With one or more strong bases at her disposal, the Essex might have continued her depredations in the Pacific. Without such points of military support and logistic supply, abandonment of the campaign was the only alternative.
It was therefore while watching for the first opportunity to escape that on March 28, “the wind came on to blow fresh from the southward, when I parted my larboard cable and dragged my starboard anchor directly out to sea” (Porter). Hastily making sail Porter saw an opportunity to pas to windward of and elude the British ships then under way outside the port. While endeavoring to do this “a heavy squall struck the ship and carried away her main topmast, precipitating the men who were aloft into the sea, who were drowned.” In this condition escape from the oncoming British was impossible.
The root cause of both accidents, which together threw the Essex into British hands, was very evidently deteriorated cordage and probably a rotten topmast also. Reference has already been made herein to the loss of an anchor at St. Catherine and to the discovery soon thereafter that both bower cables were so defective as to call for cutting out half of each. That was fourteen months before the mishap at Valparaiso. Meantime the only replenishment had been the happy discovery on board one of the prizes of a cable “sufficiently large for the Essex”—this nine months before the action.
As for the main topmast, the suspicion of Porter’s carrying too much sail at the time is answered by his report that the topgallant sails had been taken in and that the topsails had a single reef in them. Considering that he had not benefited from the facilities and supplies of an adequate base during seventeen months of hard service, the strong probability of a general deterioration of cordage and spars is evident. It seems unnecessary to labor the point that ships must have frequent recourse to good bases if their material is to be kept in reliable and efficient condition.
Finally, the steady depletion of personnel from casualty, sickness, and the manning of prizes and the Marquesas base was a severe handicap which Porter had not been able to rectify by drafts from a base. He was fortunate in being able to make some replacements from captured vessels. On leaving the United States the Essex had on board a total crew of 319. At Valparaiso she fought with a crew of 250 (5 men had been lost overboard with the main topmast).
The great lesson for the present day to be gleaned from Commodore Porter’s brilliant cruise in the Pacific 120 years ago, is that ships cannot operate effectively without adequate bases convenient to the theater of activity. Acting without the political, military, and logistic support given by bases, ships may have temporary success. The Essex and, in the late war, the Em- den have given us brilliant examples of this. But both also prove the case for bases, inasmuch as it was the want of bases to strengthen and extend their efforts, which brought them and their missions to early and disastrous ends.
The Loss of the Base
The adventures of Lieutenant Gamble of the Marines, after Porter’s departure from Nukahiva, read like fiction. The Essex was scarcely out of sight before the natives became unruly and helped themselves from the weakly garrisoned fort.
It was a difficult matter at best to guard the three ships in the bay and the camp ashore, with only 23 persons. The Lieutenant very wisely decided that the natives must be brought under control at all cost, and landing practically the entire command he forced the Marquesans to give up what they had stolen. That this was accomplished without firing a shot and that for five months thereafter excellent relations were preserved with the natives are circumstances reflecting the highest credit upon Gamble’s leadership.
When the Commodore had been gone four months, Gamble began preparations to carry out his instructions to evacuate the base after five months of waiting. The work of getting two of the prizes ready for sea had proceeded for nearly a month, when a mutiny occurred on one of them, the Seringapatam.
On May 7, nearly two months after the loss of the Essex at Valparaiso, Gamble was suddenly seized, bound, and confined below, together with the only other officers, Midshipmen Feltus and Clapp. The guard over them (apparently accidentally) wounded Gamble in the foot with a pistol. Having gotten the ship to sea, during the night, and when three miles offshore, the mutineers put the three officers and two loyal men in a boat. Neither the Seringapatam nor the mutineers, none of whom were American, have ever been heard of since. With great difficulty Gamble and his crew reached the prize Greenwich, with their leaky boat half full of water.
Two days later the natives made a sudden attack upon the Americans ashore, killing Midshipman Feltus and three men and seriously wounding another man. Gamble sent his entire force ashore to cope with the grave situation there, while himself remaining alone on board the Greenwich. Soon “two boats, crowded with savages, were approaching him and a great number besides were endeavoring to launch a war canoe for the same purpose.” Wounded and feverish as he was, Gamble “hobbled from one gun to another, firing them off as fast as he could” (Porter’s Journal), and this had the effect of both driving back the attacking boats and clearing the beach of natives.
It was clearly imperative that the base be abandoned with the least possible delay. At sunset the Greenwich was purposely set on fire and Gamble hastily put to sea with the remaining vessel, the Sir Andrew Hammond. Gamble reports that,
After bending the jib and spanker, we cut our moorings, and fortunately had a light breeze that carried the ship clear of the bay, with six cartridges remaining out of the only barrel left us by the mutineers. After getting out of the bay we found our situation most distressing. In attempting to run the boat up, it broke in two parts, and we were compelled to cut away from the bows the only anchor, not being able to cat it. We mustered together eight souls, out of which there was on cripple, one dangerously wounded, one sick, one just recovering from the scurvy, and myself confined to the bed with a high fever, produced by my wound, leaving but two capable men. In that state, destitute of charts and almost of every means of navigating the ship, I reached the Sandwich Islands, after a passage of seventeen days, and suffering much from fatigue and hardships.
Thus while losing our first over-seas base, Lieutenant Gamble gained for our Marine Corps one of its finest traditions. Upon arrival off Honolulu no ship was ever in greater need of a base than the U.S.S. Sir Andrew Hammond, the first vessel of our Navy to visit that place. She had neither anchor nor small boat, and was so short-handed that she could be worked into port and secured only through the very hospitable assistance of the natives. Later on, after shipping a few American seamen and some natives, she set forth again for the island of Hawaii to visit the king, but was intercepted and captured by the Cherub which had come north from Valparaiso in search of her. Gamble had no base to which he might escape to save the last remnant of Porter’s forces.
From first to last on this memorable cruise of the Essex, the want of bases was the greatest handicap. The success which was obtained would have been impossible but for the luck of substantial logistic aid from prizes and neutral ports which proved to be evanescent and poor substitutes for American bases. Without these, failure in the end was inescapable.