(From the private papers of the late Rear Admiral Stephen Decatur Trenchard, U. S. Navy.)
It is doubtful if any international naval episode of modern times has made a more profound and permanent impression than the impulsive act of Captain Josiah Tattnall, U. S. Navy, in giving substantial aid to the sorely pressed English forces in their attack on the Peiho forts, China, June 25, 1859. As a distinguished Englishman of that day recorded: "Gallant Americans! You and your admiral did more that day to bind England and the United States together than all your lawyers and pettifogging politicians have ever done to part us." Looking back over a period of more than half a century, we can appreciate the accuracy of this statement.
Potential as this episode was in its influence on the American and English peoples, it is a singular fact that few incidents of this nature in our navy's career are so little known to the American public as Tattnall's gallant act during the allied French and English attack on the Peiho forts. In a large measure, this is owing to the lack of detailed information on the subject. In a general way, we have known that Tattnall gave expression to the words, "Blood is thicker than water," and, ignoring his neutrality, dashed to the assistance of the allies, but the incidents leading up and subsequent to, and having an important bearing on his exploit, have long remained unknown. These highly significant details have been found in the private papers of the late Rear Admiral Stephen Decatur Trenchard, who, as a lieutenant in the navy, was an eye-witness to, and an active participant in, this dashing episode. Through the courtesy of Mr. Edward Trenchard (son of the late admiral), these papers have been placed in the hands of the writer, and with the new light thus brought to bear on this international incident, it is believed that the following is the completest account of it yet published.
I
In the year 1858 England extorted from China (virtually at the cannon's mouth) a treaty that was extremely distasteful to the dominant faction in the court at Peking. With a view to preventing the ratification of this treaty, the Chinese constructed formidable earthworks and barriers at the mouth of the Peiho. Indeed, so admirably were these obstructions arranged that the English freely expressed the suspicion that they had been engineered by Russian officers, and, during the battle, had to a large extent been manned by "convicts swept up from the Siberian frontier."
These fortifications and barriers are described in the Trenchard papers as having been of a most formidable character. The Peiho (North river) for most of its short course is a rapid stream, cutting a channel through the alluvial Pechili plain; but as it nears the sea it flows for the last five miles through a low, flat country scarcely above river level. In this stretch of its course the stream spreads out at high tide so as to lose much of its velocity.
The bar is a hard clay bank which, at low tide, is covered by only two feet of water, flanked by broad stretches of mud flats, but the unusual height of the tides on this coast increases the depth on the bar to eleven feet.
A little more than a mile above the bar, where the river banks rise abruptly to a considerable height, the Chinese had erected fortifications. These were constructed of mud, faced with solid masonry, and occupied the site of the earthworks destroyed by the English and French in the preceding year. As one looks up the river there were three mounds of earth, faced with stone, each thirty feet high, crowning the elevation on the left bank. On top of these mounds was a level space on which three guns were mounted. These cannon, pointing down stream, could be handled with comparative security from anything like a horizontal fire on account of their elevation.
Flanking these mounds were heavy mud batteries, twenty-two feet high, which were arranged so as to protect the base of the mounds from a breeching fire. These flanking batteries mounted casemate guns and were connected into one great work by a series of curtains pierced for casemate guns and were protected from a flank attack by dry and wet ditches. This was the Grand Battery, pierced for fifty guns. Above and below the Grand Battery were two waspish-looking forts, each having a mound similar to the Grand Battery and protected by bastions. They had three tiers of cannon and were connected with the main fortification by earthworks.
(“Plan 2.” not replicated here)
PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF THE PEIHO FORTS—JUNE 25, 1859
Found in the private papers of the late Rear Admiral Trenchard, U. S. N.
REFERENCES
A.A.—Piles driven closely together in the mud.
B.—Barrier of iron stakes, almost covered at high water.
C.—Chains and cable, stretched partly across the river; supposed to have been carried away by the tide before the attack.
D.—Boom of heavy timbers stretching partly across the river.
E.—Massive timber raft stretching partly across the river.
F.F.—Pointed stakes about two feet high, driven closely to the ground. (1) Plover, flagship, (2) Opossum, (3) Lee, (4) Haughty, (5) Forester, (6) Banterer, (7) Starling, (8) Janus, (9) Kestrel, (10) Cormorant, (11) Nimrod.
On the opposite bank of the river was another series of earthworks constructed on the same general plan and mounting forty guns.
A feature in the arrangement of these earthworks, which led the English to suspect that Russian engineers had directed their construction, was the "mantlet" which covered almost every embrasure and concealed the opening from an attacking party. It was indeed singular that the slow-going Chinese should have adopted this (then) new idea in military defense—its first appearance having been at the siege of Sebastopol, only a few years before. These mantlets were stout frames of wood, covered with rattan and proof against musket balls. Being hung on hinges on the lower and outer edge of the embrasure, they could be lowered or triced up, as the occasion demanded, by means of lines leading upward through the parapet on each side of the cannon. When closed it was exceedingly difficult for an enemy, even when the parapets were not enveloped in smoke, to distinguish the embrasure from the solid wall of the battery.
Long before the British and French made their attack on June 25, the Chinese had obtained the exact range of vessels approaching the forts. By this means, the guns were loaded and aimed before the mantlet was lowered. Everything being in readiness, the mantlet was dropped, the gun run out and discharged—the recoil sending the gun back again and automatically drawing up the mantlet. This could be done so quickly that it was almost impossible for an enemy to determine out of which embrasure the gun had been fired.
Furthermore, the Chinese in this battle had something else that was entirely foreign to their style of warfare, namely, relays of guns to replace those dismounted. During the cannonade of June 25 the allies dismounted a number of the Chinese cannon and were considerably perplexed on discovering, a few minutes afterward, that other cannon were being fired from the same embrasures.
Besides these land fortifications, the Chinese had constructed three lines of barriers across the river. The first, about 550 yards from the center of the Grand Battery and about 900 yards from North Fort, consisted of a single row of iron stakes, each having a tripod base nine inches in diameter. The tops of these stakes were pointed, besides which there was a sharp spur capable of penetrating the hull of a wooden vessel ascending the stream: and they were driven so deeply into the clay bottom of the river that their tops were covered at high water—a condition of the stream which gave the only promise of success to an attacking Party.
About 450 yards above this was another barrier consisting of a rope, eight inches in diameter, and two heavy chains, stretched across the river—there being a distance of twelve feet between the rope and the chains. At a distance of every thirty feet these chains and the rope were supported by heavy spars, each of which was carefully moored up and down stream. The rope and chains had been hove in as tightly as possible, which probably caused them to part under the strain so that, at the time of the attack, this obstruction stretched over only half of the river, and in a diagonal direction.
But, possibly, the most formidable barrier of all, was the third one which stretched across the river directly under the guns of the Grand Battery and North Fort. This obstruction consisted of two massive rafts of rough timber, lashed and cross-lashed in all possible directions with ropes and chains. They jutted out from opposite banks of the river, their ends interlaping; and being anchored within a few feet of each other, a passing vessel was compelled to take a course in the shape of the letter S. Just north of the right-hand raft was a circular line of iron stakes which were covered at high water, and calculated, with all the nicety of Chinese cunning, to entangle any craft attempting to force a passage.
Formidable as were these fortifications and barriers, they were rendered doubly so by the fact that the English and French were entirely ignorant of their elaborate nature. Only the year before the allies had found little difficulty in knocking to pieces the mud forts the Chinese had constructed at the mouth of the Peiho, and they advanced to the attack on June 25, 1859, under the impression that they would encounter no more serious opposition than in the year before.
II
In order that we may fully appreciate the significance of the "Blood thicker than water" episode, we must revert to the Trenchard papers, dealing with the summer of 1858, which throw a most interesting light on the incident. From these papers we learn that the battle of the Peiho forts (so far as several hundred American and British man-of-warsmen were concerned) began in Queen street, Hong-kong, a year before the final action on June 25, 1859.
On December 7, 1857, the U. S. war steamer Powhatan, Captain George F. Pearson (familiarly known in the service as "Honest George"), having Lieutenant Stephen Decatur Trenchard as her executive officer, sailed from Hampton Roads for the China station via Cape of Good Hope. She arrived at Hong-kong May 12, 1858. At this port twenty-four hours' liberty was granted to the major portion of her crew and Trenchard records in his diary: "Before the men went ashore they learned that it was best to keep elbow touching elbow, and that it was sometimes a stern necessity to fight. Each man was supplied with a sufficient amount of current coin to enable him to have a good time; and away they went as full of the spirit of fun and frolic as little children."
In port at this time were the British warships Chesapeake, Captain G. Willes, and Highflyer, Captain C. F. Shadwell. It happened that on the day the Powhatan's crew had shore leave, half of the Highflyer's crew also had liberty. In the course of the afternoon, when the Yankee tars had arrived at a peculiarly genial frame of mind, they chartered, through the agency of Bumboat Sam, the ever-present Chinese comprador, all the sedan chairs that could be secured and formed a procession in Queen street with a view to seeing the town in "proper" style.
At that moment, just as the procession of sedan-chairs (each containing two American sailors) was starting off, the Highflyers appeared. Trenchard records: "The novelty of the thing immediately took the eye of Johnnie Bull and, after the chairs had started and trailed out nearly a quarter of a mile with the Chinese bearers grunting their usual ditty and the Yankees singing ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ and other patriotic songs, the Englishmen could not refrain from complimenting the dash and ingenuity of their cousins."
(Illustration of “United States War Steamer ‘Powhatan’ – From a photograph taken in Chinese waters in 1859” – not replicated here.)
Without doubt the procession would have passed the Highflyers without unpleasant incident had not one of the Yankees shouted out to a group of English sailors: "Hey : You d—d lemon squeezers, parbuckle yourselves out of our way and trice up the slack of your lip: D'ye hear?" This exclamation was unfortunate, as it happened that Colonel Lemon commanded the British marines on the China station at this time and he had proved a popular officer, not only with the men immediately under him, but with the seamen as well.
The Highflyers who heard the remark about "lemon squeezers" naturally took it as a reflection on their beloved Colonel Lemon. The words acted like a spark in a powder magazine and in an instant the sedan chair containing the American who had made the unfortunate remark was upset and the occupants spilled out. Naturally a rush was made by the main body of Highflyers and naturally the Chinamen abandoned their sedans and fled.
As might be expected of "true and tried" Yankee man-o'-wars-men, they rallied to the support of their unfortunate shipmate who had "handed out" the "undiplomatic " remark about "Lemon." Trenchard records: "At it they went, and a regular knock-down affair existed for fifteen minutes. For a while the Americans made a good show, but half a dozen boat crews reinforced the English and the Yankees were forced to retire to a tea garden for reorganization and to repair damages."
Having "patched up" as best they could, the Americans returned to the "battle" and went at the Highflyers in "regular orthodox style." Possibly zest was added to this land "naval action" by the fact that one of the British warships in the port of Hong-kong at that time was named Chesapeake, after the frigate of that name captured by the English on June 1, 1813, off Boston harbor. It is within nature to believe that the Highflyers, on this supreme occasion, did not fail to remind the Powhatans of this unpleasant (to Americans) historical fact. Then, again, there was an English war vessel named Highfiyer which was captured, also in the war of 1812, by the United States 44-gun frigate President, and it is equally probable that the Powhatans did not fail to remind their antagonists of that equally unpleasant (to Britons) fact.
But whatever was the fuel added to this uncousin-like strife, it is of record that it lasted most of that afternoon. Late in the day a strong detachment of Yankees drove in the Highflyers' pickets and brought about another general engagement. Local police were powerless to stop the "carnage" and, as a last resort, a company of British soldiers was ordered out of the garrison to assist in restoring order. "The sight of the redcoats," records Trenchard, "acted like oil on the fire." However little American and English sailors loved each other, they mutually entertained a most cordial dislike for anything in the shape of a marine or soldier. The instant the cry was passed that the redcoats were coming, the Yankee and English tars forgot that they were fighting each other and joined forces against the "common foe."
At the outset the soldiers were severely handled by the united seamen, but when "driven to the wall," the former loaded with shot. Realizing that it was hopeless to fight against "cold lead," the American and English sailors beat a precipitate retreat around a convenient corner and, retiring to a distant part of the town, "fought out their own little difficulty to their hearts' content." Trenchard records: "Next morning the crew of the Powhatan returned on board—and they were a sight to behold. Almost every man of them had his nose cock-billed to starboard and a sprinkling in here and there of rickety-looking eyes that would have done credit even to the famous Donnybrook Fair. It took two or three days for the men to recover from the soreness and for some months after that it got to be quite the proper thing to thrash an English sailor on sight." Indeed, the outcome of that Queen street fight became so serious that it was deemed advisable for the Powhatan to change her port and she went to Penang.
This was the "first act" of the famous "Blood is thicker than water" episode, as revealed in the Trenchard papers. How the crews of the Powhatan and the Highflyer acted when they again met at the mouth of the Peiho, a year later, will now be related from the same papers.
III
Having touched at several ports in China and Japan, the Powhatan, on June 20, 1859, appeared in the Gulf of Pechili, having on board John E. Ward and suite to represent the United States in the impending negotiations. Here Flag-Officer Tattnall found the allied English and French forces, under the command of Admiral Sir James Hope, which had just arrived. In this squadron was the new British Minister to China, Mr. Bruce, and by the terms of the treaty he was obliged to appear in Peking on or before June 26, for the ratification.
The allied forces consisted of the following: Outside the bar and incapable of crossing it—the English flagship Chesapeake, Captain G. Willes; Magicienne, Captain N. Vanstittart; Highflyer, Captain C. F. Shadwell; Cruiser, Commander J. Bythesea; Fury, Commander Commerell; Assistance, Commander W. A. Heath; and Hesper (storeship), Master Commander Jabez Loane; the French corvette Duchayla (aboard which was the French Minister, M. Bourbollon), Commander Tricault; and the tender Nosegay. Vessels capable of crossing the bar and those which took active part in the battle—Nimrod, Commander R. S. Wynniatt; Cormorant, Commander A. Wodehouse; Lee, Lieut. W. H. Jones; Opossum, Lieut. C. J. Balfour; Haughty, Lieut. G. D. Broad; Forester, Lieut. A. F. Innes; Banterer, Lieut J. Jenkins; Starling, Lieut. J. Whitshed; Plover, Lieut. Commander Hector Rason; Janus, Lieut. H. P. Knevit; and Kestrel, Lieut. J. D. Bevan. Each of these gunboats carried two 18-pounder howitzers, with the exception of the Cormorant and Nimrod, each of which mounted six guns of that caliber—making a total of thirty 18-pounder howitzers and a combined rocket battery of twenty-two 12 and 24-pounders. The total number of officers and men manning these gunboats was about five hundred, besides which there was a detachment of six hundred marines under Colonel Lemon, which was held in reserve. The Nosegay and Coromandel were anchored beyond gunshot for hospital service.
It was in the stillness of night that the allies arrived at the mouth of the Peiho. The roaring of escaping steam and the clattering of chain cables running through iron-faced hawse-holes aboard the warships aroused the Chinese. But they did not seem to be in the least perturbed by the arrival of such a formidable force of "red headed barbarians." As day broke, they gazed upon the armada in stolid indifference; and then went about their accustomed duties. There was nothing about the place to indicate that unusual preparations had been made to resist the "foreign devils." To be sure, obstructions were plainly visible across the river, but these, the officials declared, had been placed to keep out pirates and rebels, who recently had been giving the Imperial Government trouble. So far as the on-looker could determine, everything about the mouth of the Peiho was as quiet and sleepy as the most enthusiastic admirer of Chinese river scenery could desire.
As the officers and men paced the decks of the war vessels, the course of the Peiho could be traced far into the interior by the masts and sails of junks that moved sluggishly up and down that stream. The straggling village of Taku, glimpses of which could be obtained behind the fortifications, seemed to be pursuing its usual lazy, monotonous existence as a fishing hamlet. The tower of Little Temple, from which the Governor-General of Pechili had fled the year before, with its succession of quaint, peaked roofs, was seen just beyond the fort on the left.
For the first time in the experience of foreigners, a Chinese military post was lacking in the usual lavish display of flags and tents—denoting the presence of troops. A yellow, triangular flag trailed its sluggish length out from each of the two mounds and a few officials of "low rank" could be seen moving among the batteries as unconcernedly as if the "foreign devils" were on the other side of the globe. Small detachments of poorly armed and shabbily dressed militia were paraded through the works. Few of the guns in the embrasures, owing to the deceitful appearance of mantlets, could be seen.
As a preliminary step, Admiral Hope, on arriving off the bar, sent a boat ashore to communicate with the commander of the torts and to request that the barriers be removed so the gunboats could proceed up the river. The British officer landed with this message, but was not permitted to proceed farther than the beach, where an official of low rank met him and refused to remove the barriers, saying that the English would meet the proper representatives of the Emperor at another mouth of the Peiho, ten miles northward. This official concluded by saying that he acted entirely upon his own responsibility and that no higher officers were present.
Thus far nothing had occurred to arouse Admiral Hope's suspicions of treachery, as everything had been conducted in an entirely good-natured way on the part of the natives, and the best of feeling had been shown. Exasperated at being balked in his friendly visit to the capital, the British Admiral wrote to the local officials that, if the obstructions were not removed by the evening of June 24, he would force an entrance.
It was while matters were in this condition that Mr. Ward, after consultation with Flag Officer Tattnall, decided to proceed up the river in the Toey-Wan (a small merchant steamer, chartered by the Americans for the occasion, as the Powhatan drew too much water to cross the bar), as if ignorant of the Chinamen's refusal to allow the English and French to pass; and if the forts fired across the Toey-Wan’s bow, he would anchor and communicate. But if they fired into his steamer, which was unarmed, he would retire.
Accordingly, at 11 a. m., June 24, the little Toey-Wan, displaying American colors, steamed through the allied fleet without communicating and pushed boldly up to the first barrier. So far as any one aboard the foreign craft could discover, the fortifications were deserted. Not a man nor a gun in an embrasure was visible and, although there were flagstaffs aplenty, not a flag was in evidence.
When about three hundred yards from the first barrier, the Toey-Wan struck some obstacle in the river which caused her to tremble from stem to stern. She had run on the treacherous bank of the stream which was visible at low water but entirely concealed by the murky waters at high tide. Efforts to back her off were unavailing, while the fast falling tide rendered her position extremely critical, for not only was she entirely at the mercy of the batteries, but the ebb tide was leaving her partially on the edge of the bank so that by low water she must tumble off and fall into the river upside-down.
Observing the difficulty the Americans were in, Admiral Hope sent the Plover to their aid with permission to Mr. Ward to hoist American colors over her if desirable. The Plover endeavored to pull the Toey-Wan off, but the cable parted, whereupon the admiral dispatched his flag-lieutenant with another gunboat—but even their united efforts were unavailing.
It was while the Toey-Wan was in this critical position that Tattnall sent Lieutenant Trenchard with interpreters to the nearest fort to inform the officers in command that the American Minister was aboard the stranded steamer. Trenchard records the incident in his journal as follows: "I was dispatched in the barge by Flag Officer Tattnall as his representative, accompanied by Dr. Williams and the Rev. Messers. Martin and Atchinson, our interpreters (the former as representative of Mr. Ward), to communicate with the officer in command of the fort. We passed inside of the lines of the stakes and landed at the extremity of a mud jetty, running out of the central bastion on the left, and below the lower barrier. We were received by a guard of twenty men armed with spears, double swords and long knives. They were rather ragged in appearance. Mr. Martin and myself held an interview with the officer. It was, in substance, that we had come here for the purpose of going up the Peiho river to Peking with our Minister, who had been directed to see the Emperor; and to deliver to him in person a letter from the President of the United States and to ratify the treaty. The commissioners at Shanghai said there would be difficulty in passing up the river to Peking and that instead of finding it clear we would meet obstructions placed in the channel. We requested that these obstructions be removed so that we could pass up the river. The mandarin or head man of the party stated that the barriers could not be removed; that they had been placed there to protect the villages against rebels and pirates; and that any attempt made to remove them would be resisted and the forts would open fire." It was with such unsatisfactory answer that Trenchard returned to Flag Officer Tattnall. After many exertions, the Toey-Wan was released from her perilous position and resumed her station outside the bar.
LIEUT. STEPHEN DECATUR TRENCHARD, U. S. N.
(Late Rear Admiral)
From a photograph taken on the China station at
the time of the Battle of the Peiho Forts.
(Not replicated in this document)
IV
It was not until June 23, that the gunboats were taken across the bar and on the night of the 24th Admiral Hope sent three boats up the river under the command of Captain Willes to remove the barriers. Forcing his way between the line of iron stakes, Willes left two of his boats at this place with orders to attach explosives for the purpose of blowing up the obstruction. With his remaining boat, Willes pulled up to the third barrier.
At this point, Chinese sentinels could be seen pacing up and down the parapets, but they paid not the slightest attention to the visitors, although the latter were plainly visible. After a careful investigation of the rafts, Willes was satisfied that it was impossible for the gunboats to remove them; so, returning to the second barrier, he exploded his cylinders and made a breach wide enough for the gunboats to pass. At this moment several guns from the forts were carelessly fired as a warning for the foreigners to desist; but no general alarm seems to have been given and the formidable character of the batteries was not revealed. Evidently, it was the intention of the Chinese to lure the foreigners into a trap. On the following morning the British discovered that the breach had been repaired.
The same deceitful calm prevailed in and around the fortifications at daylight, June 25. At 3.30 a. m. the boatswains' whistles in the allied forces began their merry chirping, sending all hands to breakfast. Half an hour later the gunboats were taking their prescribed positions.
By this time a strong flood-tide was running—a muddy, turbid stream up a tortuous, ill-smelling gutter. Gradually that gutter was filled and the thickened waters, ruffled by a fresh breeze which blew the foul odors toward the forts, began to rise to the level of the mud banks and finally lapped over them. Soon the increasing flood of in-rushing waters spread over the reed-covered mud-flats, concealed them completely from view, and began to wash against the massive foundations of the forts.
Operations had been started thus early in the day in the hope that the gunboats would be in position by high tide. But delays were occasioned by the narrowness of the channel and by the strength and unfavorable direction of the wind. Delay also was caused by the grounding of the Banterer and the Starling, so it was after noon before the vessels had reached their destinations.
At 2 p. m., when the ebb-tide was running swiftly, Admiral Hope, having his flag on the Plover, signaled the Opossum to remove an iron stake to which she had made fast. The stake was wrenched from its bed after thirty minutes of hard tugging by the gunboat and the allied vessels passed through the breach thus made and passed up to the second barrier, where they were directly under the guns of the fortifications; and still no hostile demonstration had been made from the shore. It was a moment of intense excitement. Every eye was fixed upon that long line of silent earthworks.
At the moment the flagship Plover was endeavoring to break through the second barrier, however, a single gun was fired from the Grand Battery and in an instant all the mantlets were dropped and ninety cannon belched forth their roaring protest against the little craft. Admiral Hope now signaled, "Engage the enemy as closely as possible," which brought the other gunboats to the support of their gallant leader.
It soon became apparent that the Chinese, long before, had acquired the exact range on that section of the river between the barriers, for many of their shot took effect on the Plover and Opossum—the leading gunboats. Indeed, it seemed to be the enemy's object to annihilate the flagship, for within twenty minutes the Plover and Opossum had so many of their men killed or wounded that their guns were almost silenced. Among the first to be killed was Captain McKenna, of the admiral's staff. About the same time, Lieut. Commander Rason, of the Plover, was cut in two by a round shot, while the admiral himself was severely injured in the thigh. For the first time in European experience in Eastern waters, the Chinese were discharging firearms without closing their eyes. It was painfully evident that now they were selecting definite objects to hit and were deliberately aiming their cannon, with open eye, at said objects—another evidence, so the English believed, that Russians were in the fortifications directing the proceedings.
Flag Officer Tattnall and other Americans in the Toey-Wan (anchored in the river just out of gunshot) had been witnessing the treacherous attack on the gunboats with feelings of mortification and anger. Trenchard, in his diary, records that Tattnall finally exclaimed: "Blood is thicker than water," and that "He'd be damned if he'd stand by and see white men butchered before his eyes. No, sir: Old Tattnall isn't that kind, sir. This is the cause of humanity. Is that boat ready? Tell the men there is no need of side arms."
Realizing that it was impossible for the British reserves to advance against the swift current to the relief of their sorely tried brethren, Tattnall sent an officer to Colonel Lemon offering the services of the Toey-Wan in towing him into action. At this moment the Americans observed a boat emerge from the smoke of battle and pull with desperate energy toward the Toey-Wan. Quickly she ran alongside and a British midshipman climbed up the man-ropes and proceeding aft, handed a dispatch to Flag Officer Tattnall. The American commander became greatly excited on the perusal of the note and he immediately got into his barge with Lieutenant Trenchard to "pay an official visit" (as Tattnall expressed it) to the British admiral.
Away went the barge over the waters, rendered doubly murky by the smoke and grime of battle, closely followed by the English boat—both craft soon being lost to view in the dense volumes of smoke that enveloped the combatants. While the Americans were passing a gunboat that was suffering severely from the Chinese fire, a shot plowed through the Stars and Stripes floating at the stern of Tattnall's boat, and left them a collection of streamers.
As the barge passed other gunboats their crews cheered, but scarcely had the first cheer been given when another shot struck the barge's quarter, instantly killing Coxswain Hart and wounding Trenchard, besides badly injuring the boat, so that it was only with the greatest difficulty that it was kept afloat long enough to reach the side of the British flagship. On gaining the quarter deck, Tattnall found Admiral Hope sitting on a camp stool, desperately wounded but still directing the fight. Everything about the gunboat indicated the terrific fire she was being exposed to. Forward was an 8-inch gun with only two men near it—the rest of the crew having been killed or wounded and the reserves exhausted.
Trenchard describes how Tattnall, after exchanging a few words with the admiral, turned to his own boat's crew and said: "Meantime, my good fellows, you might man that gun forward until the boat is ready; just as you would in your own ship." These Yankee tars (who only a few months before had been engaged in a savage fist-fight with some of these English sailors in Queen street, Hong-kong) went forward. A bright English lad, twelve or thirteen years old (one of the few survivors of the original gun crew), offered to supply them with powder and shot. Throwing off their superfluous clothing the Yankee tars entered into the fight in earnest and for nearly an hour fired that gun—declaring that "every shot hit the mark."
At the end of the hour they were relieved by a boat-load of English sailors from another gunboat and, walking aft, they were confronted by Lieutenant Trenchard. Their powder-begrimed faces and heated appearance told plainly enough what kind of work they had been engaged in, but realizing the neutral position of the United States, Trenchard affected a severe tone and asked what they had been doing. One of the brawny tars coolly replied: "Oh nothing much, sir, excepting lending a friendly hand to them fellers forward." By this time another boat had been secured for the Americans and they returned to the Toey-Wan.
After the battle had progressed several hours with more and more evident disadvantage to the gunboats, Flag Officer Tattnall realized that the allies must speedily have the support of their reserves or be overwhelmed with disaster. Accordingly, he took the junks in tow and, unmindful of the danger he was incurring or the neutrality of the nation he represented, he brought them into action.
These reserves, six hundred strong, were at once landed to storm the forts as a last hope. They rushed madly down the ditch filled with water and rendered almost impassable by sharp stakes. They threw their scaling ladders across the ditch and continued to advance in spite of the terrific fire at close quarters. Some were actually beginning to climb the masonry when, suddenly, the cry "Russians" was raised. Thoroughly discouraged, the assailants, in spite of the efforts of their officers, retreated to the beach and scrambled into their boats—all the time being exposed to a destructive fire.
But there were not enough boats to take them off. It was a terrible moment and here, again, Tattnall won the lasting gratitude of the English. He ran his light-draft Toey-Wan close inshore and took the fugitives aboard, thereby saving many lives. In this unfortunate affair of the Peiho forts, the allies sustained a loss of 89 killed and 345 men wounded.
But even here, the kindness of the Americans did not cease. A day or two after the battle, Chinese officials sent aboard the Powhatan twenty sheep, the same number of hogs, one hundred and forty chickens, sixty ducks, 250 pounds of vegetables, 250 pounds of fruit, 2500 pounds of flour and 2000 pounds of rice. Unknown to the natives, the Americans sent these most acceptable gifts to the English and French, many of whom had been desperately wounded and had been without food for thirty-six hours.
An English eye-witness of this battle recorded: "Many of our men slept in the American tender [Toey-Wan] on the night of the fight. Cigars, coffee, brandy—everything a man could want—were placed before them. The American crew forgot themselves and thought only of the British. A few days after the fight, a Chinese junk with a flag of truce brought fresh provisions to the Powhatan. These were immediately sent to our wounded. The bond of American brotherhood was deeply cemented in our trial at the Peiho. I believe there was not a man in the fleet who did not feel it growing up within him and, I am sure, there are thousands, if I may not say millions, on both sides of the Atlantic who will join me in the fervent wish that that feeling of brotherhood may take deeper and deeper root in both lands."
V
In the following December, 1859, the Powhatan again visited Hong-kong—the scene of that memorable Queen street fight between the American and British man-of-warsmen only a few months before. This time it was not found "desirable" for the American flagship to "change her port" owing to the former conflicts between her sailors and English man-of-warsmen in the streets of Hong-kong.
On the contrary, Trenchard describes her reception as having been most cordial: "As she [the Powhatan] steamed to her anchorage, she passed the British flagship Highflyer. As soon as the Powhatan was recognized, the British band struck up ‘Should Auld Acquaintances be Forgot' and 'Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean.' Then the Highflyer ran up the American flag and the Powhatan hoisted the British flag, and salutes were mutually fired. Then the other British vessels in the harbor hoisted the Stars and Stripes and saluted. Soon after, the Russian frigate saluted our flag and the French warships also. The English and American sailors made excursions on shore together, and the former always stood ready to help an American out of a difficulty.
"On Christmas following, the American and English sailors made up a purse of eight hundred dollars and sent for Bumboat Sam (he of the sedan-chair fame) to have him cater to them in a way that would be an everlasting honor to his vocation. Sam promised to furnish everything in the air, the ocean and on earth. He was true to his word and two long tables were spread with fowl, fish, flesh and fruit. Afternoon brought the guests from the English ship and the viands were flanked by the attacking party, headed by the officers. Our executive officer made a little speech. Speeches, toasts, cold water, jests and story had place in the order of the hour; and no one for a moment would have thought that the two crews, a year before, had been engaged in pounding each other's faces after the most approved style of prize-fighters.
"Next summer, when we were down at Penang, the Powhatan's crew got leave of absence for forty-eight hours. The Hightlyer was there also. The two crews hobnobbed famously, and got up an excursion to a noted resort some six miles distant. The sailors hired coaches and saddle-horses, took along baskets of pop-beer, stout, claret, oranges, sardines, hams, herrings, etc. Every man carried a 'Penang lawyer.' The men started along the shell road and in due time reached their destination; and everything was joyous during the entire leave of absence."