Resolved . . . That the President is authorized to issue posthumously „ to . . . William S. Cox, late a third lieutenant United States Navy, a commission as a third lieutenant as of the date of his death in 1874.”
With those brief words the House of Representatives in May of last year wrote a partial finis to a 139 year old incident which has reflected no glory on America’s history. When the Senate acted on the measure and the President added his signature in July, the uneasy drama of William Sitgreaves Cox was finally ended.
The chain reaction that was destined to extend from 1813 to 1952 began during the War of 1812 when Captain James Lawrence, commanding the Chesapeake, prematurely left Boston harbor to engage Captain Broke, commander of the British frigate Shannon. In the ensuing fierce battle the Shannon, as we know, defeated the Chesapeake, Lawrence being fatally wounded.
The American people were stunned at Lawrence’s defeat. They had come to expect almost as a matter of course that the American frigates could vanquish any British frigate afloat. That Lawrence had been defeated so quickly and decisively was unthinkable. Hadn’t he become a national hero when he sank the Peacock in February? Something must have happened, the public railed; Lawrence could never be beaten in a fair battle.
The feeling of virtually everyone in the country was echoed in a letter Commodore Bainbridge wrote the Navy Department: “The well proved courage and skill of Captain Lawrence, and the bravery of the officers and crew, justify a full belief that the loss of the Chesapeake has been entirely owing to some fortuitous event happening on board of her, and not to any superiority of skill and bravery in the enemy.” Apparently no one stopped to think that an American craft might well be defeated, the fortunes of war being what they are. No, someone was to blame, someone who could be charged with the “fortuitous event.” And so the name of William S. Cox enters the picture.
The public demanded an explanation, and the Navy ordered a court of inquiry to convene in February of 1814 to investigate the loss of the Chesapeake. The investigation was standard procedure, but the results springing from it were something else again.
In discussing the case, current newspaper accounts have stated that Lawrence disobeyed orders in giving battle at all. His orders from the Secretary of the Navy, in instructing him to capture and destroy British storeships, advised: “If in the course of your cruise you should derive such information of the force of the enemy, or other sufficient cause, as to render a strict adherence to my instructions prejudicial to the Public Service, you are at liberty to exercise your own judgment. ...” And in another letter from the Secretary: “ . . . You will proceed to sea as soon as the weather and the force and position of the enemy will admit. ...” That Lawrence was acting within his instructions in giving battle to the Shannon is certainly open to question.
Though Lawrence had not literally disobeyed orders, as a matter of historical interest, as Gleaves points out in his biography of Lawrence, in those days “ . . . captains in the navy were a law unto themselves. The orders of the Navy Department seemed to have been obeyed only so far as it suited their discretion. ...” Even Commodore Bainbridge, who headed the court of inquiry, had on one occasion ignored instructions to sail to the East Indies and instead returned home to Boston—without censure.
Shortly after the court of inquiry and ten months after the battle, William Sit- greaves Cox was brought before a court- martial on April 15, 1814, and charged with cowardice, disobedience of orders, desertion from quarters, neglect of duty, and unofficer-like conduct. Five months previously his promotion to lieutenant (he was then an acting lieutenant), bearing the approval of Congress, had been forwarded to him at Philadelphia.
In preparing for the trial, the uneasiness of at least one member of the board was reflected in the letter Commodore Decatur, president of the courtmartial, addressed to the Secretary of the Navy: “These charges appear from the Summary alone to be founded in several instances on the testimony of single witnesses. It is certainly desirable if these facts are provable that they should be established by more than one witness if there be more to the same facts. ...”
In truth, as an examination of the court- martial proceedings reveals, only one witness among all those called by the prosecution gave really damaging evidence against Cox. Cox’s antagonist in the trial was Lieutenant George Budd, senior surviving officer of the Chesapeake, the only person who construed Cox’s actions unfavorably.
Most of the charges fell through on the testimony of the prosecution’s own witnesses. Nothing even resembling cowardice was proved; indeed Cox’s entire naval career was a refutation of the charge and his record bore commendations from Lawrence and a notation by Secretary Hamilton that he was an officer designated for early promotion. Cox was found not guilty of charge 1, cowardice. The testimony incidentally revealed that, if anything, Cox was too intrepid because, though not one of the official boarders, he rushed toward the enemy instead of remaining beside his useless guns. This was the basis for the charge of desertion from quarters, of which he was also adjudged not guilty.
The charge, disobedience of orders, was likewise proved false. Allegedly Cox had helped the wounded Lawrence to the ship’s cockpit and had then been ordered by Lawrence to return to his station, which he did not do. Both doctors aboard the Chesapeake, who attended Lawrence in the cockpit, neither heard such an order nor saw Cox there. Cox was therefore acquitted of charge 2 as well.
The neglect of duty charge revolved around Cox’s action in helping Lawrence below in the first few moments of the engagement. What happened was this: Cox was in command of a division on the gun deck, and when the guns ceased to bear and he heard the rallying cry “Boarders!”, he joined the crew as they rushed up to the spar deck to repel the enemy. There he saw Lawrence lying wounded, told the men “Rush on,” and, out of his overwhelming devotion to his commander and, Cox insisted, because Lawrence requested it, he helped him below.
Cox was found guilty of neglect of duty principally because of a conversation Budd stated he had had with Cox when they were prisoners in Halifax. Cox told him, Budd reported, that Lawrence had not asked for assistance and had been angry that Cox had left his station to help him. Cox inquired caustically of the court whether any man in his right mind would make such a remarkable statement to a brother officer when he knew it must lead to investigation. And, Cox went on vigorously: “There were other witnesses also that were not called upon by the prosecution . . . and could not be by myself, who could testify to entire conversations in which the reason for my conduct was stated; and yet that one who is found upon the record of the Court of Enquiry to have stated the conversation least favorably to me is called on and the others not.” One witness for the prosecution, Chaplain Livermore, did remember the conversation Budd alluded to but, significantly, could not recall Cox stating that Lawrence was angry with him. The court, however, relied on Budd’s memory.
The charge of unofficer-like conduct, the second count on which Cox was found guilty, was the most astonishing of all. After he had seen Lawrence as far as the steerage hatch, Cox, as corroborated by several witnesses, tried to get back to the spar deck but the enemy had battened down the hatch. He then ran to gun number 13, one of the two still serviceable, and fired the last shot of the battle. Then he tried to get on the spar deck from the forward hatch. However, the remnants of the beaten crew were streaming below in panic but not until over thirty of the British boarders, including Captain Broke, had been killed or wounded.
Cox’s appraisal of the tide of battle was perhaps too realistic for the court to accept. Midshipman Higginbotham, trying to get through the hatch himself, asked Cox if he should cut down the men leaping through so he and Cox could gain the deck. Cox replied: “No, it is no use.” He was charged with “ . . . not doing his utmost to aid in capturing the Shannon, by animating and encouraging, in his own example, the inferior officers and men to fight courageously and in denying the use of coercive means to prevent the desertion of the men from their quarters, and in not compelling those who had deserted from their quarters to return to duty.” Thus, Cox was judged guilty of unofficer-like conduct—certainly a most unusual accusation to present against an officer in the United States Navy, and an excellent indication of the temper of the times.
Cox defended himself with vigor. But he did his own case no good when he hinted that he was being offered as “a sacrifice to heal the wounded honor and reinstate the naval pride of the nation,” which probably summed up only too well the whole unfortunate situation. And, he went on, “had the events of the contest been different, many of these very acts . . . would have enhanced my merit in the public estimation.” Here Cox shrewdly indicated that had the Chesapeake been the victor he would have become a hero for doing the very things for which he was now being tried.
In continuing his eloquent defense, Cox was more than a little critical of his chief accuser, Budd. Why did he testify, Cox asked, that when he reached the spar deck he could find Cox nowhere about? How could he, in the confusion of the battle, with men fighting hand to hand, coolly look about and decide that Cox was not on the deck? Indeed, what was the purpose in looking for him at all? Cox suggested strongly that perhaps Budd was seeking him in order to turn his division over to Cox and look for his own safety. Other observers have suggested that perhaps Budd was afraid that as senior surviving officer the onus for the defeat might be placed on his shoulders unless a scapegoat were found. At this late date no one can say with certainty what Budd’s motives were.
After he was found guilty on two counts and cashiered “with a perpetual incapacity to serve in the Navy of the United States,” Cox tried vainly to have his case reopened. However, the verdict was upheld by President Madison and all attempts proved futile. He entered on a business career and died in 1874, whereupon his family carried on the battle to clear his name. Notable among these was William S. Pope, Cox’s grandson, who wrote many letters to Congress and the Executive asking for a review of the court-martial.
Finally, in 1952, a great grandson of Cox, Mr. E. D. Litchfield of New York, succeeded in bringing the matter to the favorable attention of the House Armed Services Committee. The Director of Naval History, Rear Admiral John B. Heffernan, U. S. Navy (Retired), testified before the Committee, outlining the historical facts, and recommending the reinstatement of Cox. Recognizing that a wrong is never mitigated by the passage of time, the committee took steps to amend the records of the Navy Department to carry “William S. Cox as a third lieutenant, United States Navy, at the time of his death on October 17, 1874.”
Cox, who from all reports was not embittered by his experience, would have read with great pleasure the words reinstating him in good favor in the service he loved. His career followed in part the family motto: Prodesse quarn conspici—“To do good rather than be conspicuous.” Perhaps the fact that at least a brief portion of his life was far from inconspicuous will prevent similar errors being made in the future.