We were not kept long watching the weather, nor did we play the ruse exactly in the same manner which had been determined upon, as will be seen shortly.

It seems, as I afterward learned, that when the eavesdropping marines announced to us of the gun-deck that the scheme had been decided upon, our officers were as yet only discussing it.

To be precise, as one should be while setting down facts which go to the making up of history, it was not until the afternoon of March 27 when Captain Porter came to the conclusion that, under the circumstances, there was nothing better to be done than give the Essex Junior an opportunity to slip out of the harbor while we were leading the Britishers a long chase seaward.

In case the Junior got safely off, we would not soon again be troubled with Oliver Benson; for, as Master Hackett declared, there was every reason now why he should remain where he was, and, if all went right with us Americans, he would soon find himself in a prison from which he could not depart at will.

I will set down at this point, lest it be forgotten in that whirl of excitement which always comes over me when I ponder upon the thrilling deeds of bravery I witnessed within a few hours after Captain Porter had decided to give the Junior a chance for her life—I will set it down that from that 27th day of March I ceased to know aught concerning Oliver Benson. He was in irons on the evening before the gallant frigate was overtaken by misfortune, and there his history ends so far as I am concerned. Neither Phil nor I heard of the villain again, although in after years we made many inquiries concerning him.

And now I am come to that portion of my poor yarn where the Essex lost her "luck," and the losing of it cost the life of many a brave man, each of whom stood facing death with a cheer and a smile until the grim messenger gained the victory.

No time in my life stands out in memory so vividly as does the evening of March 27, 1814, and yet nothing of particular interest to a stranger occurred at that time. That portion of the crew not on duty had gathered well forward on the gun-deck, discussing the chances that the Junior would take in trying to weather the Horn when we knew that the Britishers had many ships between that point and a home port.

The majority of our men believed she would pull through all right, for Mr. Downes was a skilful and at the same time careful seaman, who would not run unnecessary risks. Besides this fact, our people still relied on the "luck of the Essex," for they were as yet ignorant of the fact that it had at last deserted the old frigate whose career had been so glorious.

There was much jawing and arguing on that evening, but in a friendly way. Never a man lost his temper, and, to the best of my knowledge, not a harsh word was spoken during that time of tongue wagging. All hands were in the best of spirits, thinking that soon we would show the Britishers a trick worth half a dozen of their clumsy ones, and believing we might yet prove the Essex to be a match for both the ships in the offing. It was the most enjoyable time I ever spent aboard the frigate, for on the eve of that terrible disaster we had forgotten entirely the dangers which threatened.

And now let me describe the entrance of Valparaiso harbor, for the better understanding of that which follows:—

It opens to the northward, being formed by a headland on its western side, and a cove that makes to the southward within it; the main coast sweeping round to the north and east again, affording the necessary protection.

When Phil and I turned in on this 27th day of March it was nearly a dead calm, with no indication landward that a stiff breeze was concealed by the fleecy clouds which had been lighted to a crimson glory by the setting sun.

Next morning on turning out we found the wind blowing half a gale from the southward, and the frigate leaping and plunging to the anchors as if bent on getting under way on her own account.

My first thought was that the moment had come when we might play our trick on the Britishers, and I went directly to Master Hackett to learn if there was any show of leaving port that day.

"I reckon we'll hold to the ground, lad," the old man said as he gazed around after the general fashion of sailormen before replying to a question regarding the weather. "That 'ere Britisher is so careful of himself that he mightn't think it safe to chase us very far at such a time, so it stands to reason we'll stay where we are till things look more promisin'."

Having satisfied myself on this score, I went with Phil for our pannikins of tea and whatever the cooks might be pleased to dish out in the shape of breakfast; but before we had succeeded in our purpose, and while yet standing in line, with a dozen men ahead of us, the ship gave a mighty plunge; we heard a noise like the muffled report of a 24-pounder, and the frigate swung around with a lurch that brought us up all standing against the starboard rail.

For the instant I was at a loss to understand what had happened, and then came the cry:—

"The port cable has carried away!"

The heavy chain had snapped under the enormous strain put upon it as the frigate made a wilder plunge than usual, and in an instant we were being driven stern foremost directly toward the entrance of the harbor, where could be seen, less than a mile in the offing, the two Britishers with everything snugged down to the gale.

In a twinkling there was a scene of apparent confusion on board the frigate, although as a matter of fact the seamen were working with a well-defined purpose, each intent on his portion of the task.

There was nothing to be done but crowd on all sail, and, whether we were ready or no, begin that trick which we believed would result in giving the Junior an opportunity of running the blockade.

Our men worked like beavers, and even Phil and I took a hand in pulling and hauling until the good frigate was well under way, staggering toward that jutting land known as the Point of Angels, a dangerous bluff to double in the best of weather, because of the sudden and violent squalls which are frequent there. As a rule all ships reef down while going around, and here was the Essex under full sail.

We expected the order which came a moment later, and the topmen were already standing by the rail to execute it.

In with the gallant-sails! We were going to haul close by the wind, counting on holding our weatherly position, and surely it seemed as if all would go as was desired; but the "luck" of the Essex had left her!

The Britishers were at such a distance that we might easily, by hugging the land, give them the slip, and then the chase would begin.

There was no time for tongue wagging. Every man stood at his post ready for the next command which might be given, and Phil and I, sheltered by the starboard rail and the forecastle-deck, were breathlessly watching the old ship's gallant fight against both the elements and the enemy.

On the maintop four men stood ready to loose the canvas after we passed the danger point, and it was to me as if we had already doubled the bluff when there was a great crash, a swaying of the ship as if she had received a deadly wound, and we saw the maintopmast with its raffle of cordage trailing in the water alongside, pounding and threshing against the side as if bent on staving in the planks.

The four brave seamen went with the spar; but no effort could be made to save them. It was a case of holding on hard and running for dear life, otherwise the Essex would soon have been piled up on the rocks with all hands battling to keep off death a few seconds longer.

Phil gripped my arm till it was as if an iron band encircled it, and I believe of a verity that I ceased to breathe for a full minute.

To run before the wind with our top hamper dragging astern would have been to throw ourselves into the arms of the enemy, and while one portion of the crew were trying to cut away the wreckage, the remainder did their best to put the frigate about.

Even green lads like Phil and me understood that we could not beat up to our old anchorage, even though the frigate had not been wounded, and we gazed anxiously aft to learn what might be the course whereby we should slip past the Britishers and the yet more dangerous headlands.

That question was speedily answered when the Essex was headed directly across the harbor entrance to its northeastern side, and the anchors were let go within a pistol shot of the shore, just under a bluff on which was the Chilian battery.

I drew a long breath of relief. The ship was no more than three miles from the town; she lay hard by the land, and equally as much, if not more so, within a neutral port as before.

"That was a tight squeeze!" I said, bawling in Phil's ear, because the roar of the wind rendered ordinary conversation difficult; and he replied by saying:—

"At one time I counted it as a certainty that we must run on such a course as would allow the Britishers to rake us!"

At the same instant I noted the fact that while our crew should have been snugging down the canvas, they were moving here and there as if going to quarters, and, pouncing on Master Hackett who chanced to pass near at hand, I asked him for an explanation.

"Look yonder, lad," he cried. "Are you blind that you can't see both the Britishers comin' down upon us with motto flags and jacks set? The brave Captain Hillyar whom our commander spared when we might have sent him to the bottom, is countin' on tacklin' us while we're wrecked aloft, an' in no position to manoeuvre."

"But we're still in the port!" I cried, almost beside myself with astonishment and fear.

"He doesn't give a fig for the port, now we're the same as disabled. It's what the coward has been waitin' for, an' he'd take advantage of us if we were lyin' just off the town! A gallant Britisher he, who wouldn't give fair battle, but hangs off an' on till he finds us in a tight place! Show me a Yankee who'd play so contemptible a game, an' I'll help keel-haul him!"

The first boat's crew was called away to get a spring on our cable, and the Phoebe was bearing down upon us with her men at quarters, thus showing, if we had had any doubt before, that it was her intention to open the action when we were well-nigh helpless.

Our commander was not one to show the white feather, however great the danger. At every point where we could reeve a halliard, flags were hoisted, and orders were given to go to quarters, although if the spring was not got on the cable we might never be able to give them a broadside.

None but a bully and a braggart like Captain Hillyar would have attacked an enemy while in such a condition.

The Phoebe rounded to when nearly astern of us, and while our men were working at the spring she opened fire at long range. The Cherub hauled off our starboard bow and blazed away at the same time.

The engagement was on, and I hardly realized that I was taking part in as cruel a sea-fight as was ever waged. Phil and I served the ammunition for Nos. 1 and 2 guns, and so rapidly did our people deliver their fire that we were kept on the jump every minute.

I saw the men throwing sand on the decks, and forgot to be frightened. I even understood how necessary it was, how greatly it might be to my advantage in the work, for a 24-pound shot had come through one of the midship ports, killing three men and wounding as many more, and the red blood with its odor of salt flowing across the planks where no sand had been strewn, caused me to slip and slide as if on greased timbers.

My shirt was covered with blood; my throat smarted with the fumes of burning powder, and my eyes were half blinded by the smoke. Here and there lay the body of a shipmate who would never again answer to the call of his superior; a wounded man had crawled against the forward bulkhead and was trying to stanch the flow of life fluid, and amid it all I had no consciousness of fear. The fever of battle was upon me like a consuming fire, and my only thought, outside of the duties I should perform, was that we might be mowing down as many of their men as they were of ours.

Now and then I saw Phil dimly through the smoke as he passed me going to and from the magazine. His shirt had been torn away, or flung off, and thus, half-clad, begrimed with powder until one might have mistaken him for an African, he cheered whenever we succeeded in firing a broadside, or waved his arms now and then in response to some command from the gunners.

Now I heard a shout from the hatchway that a spring had been got on the cable, and as we sent a broadside toward the Phoebe or the Cherub, as the case might be, I added my voice to the others, exulting in the thought that we had sent death aboard the cowardly Britishers.

Again I heard the cry that our springs had been cut away by a shot, and was sensible of the fact that the gallant old frigate was being swung around by the wind until the after gunners were forced to cease work because they could not bring their pieces to bear.

Three several times did our brave fellows, working under the enemy's heavy fire, succeed in getting the springs on the cable, and as often were the hawsers shot away.

"The Phoebe is punishing us terribly," so I heard Midshipman Farragut say; but through an open port I saw the Cherub running down to leeward to take a position near her consort. Surely, we had given that ship enough, although not succeeding in doing the frigate any great injury.

The Phoebe was so far away that we had hardly a gun which could touch her, while because of her station and long pieces, she sent nearly every shot aboard us.

Then came a lull in the fighting, and I heard the word passed from one to the other that we were to get three long twelves out aft, and side by side with Phil I aided to the best of my ability in the work.

The Britishers poured in a heavy fire while we were thus engaged, and here, there, and everywhere on our decks were dead or wounded men before we got the new pieces in position.

Then our most skilful gunners were sent to the long twelves, and we lads brought ammunition till we were ready to drop from mingled excitement and fatigue, yet were hardly conscious of our condition, for now were our guns beginning to tell, and we could see that the Britishers were suffering as they had made us suffer.

Then, suddenly, a deafening cheer went up from our men, and running to one of the ports I squeezed my body out past the gun till I could see the Phoebe and Cherub hauling off like crippled ducks.

I believed the battle was at an end, and began to cheer like a crazy lad, when Master Hackett caught me by the shoulder with a jerk that brought me up all standing.

"I reckon the fumes of powder an' blood have gone to your head, lad. Quiet down a bit, or you'll need to be sent into the cockpit."

"We've whipped the Britishers!" I shouted, trying vainly to squirm out of the old sailor's grasp. "They thought to cut us up because we were well-nigh helpless, and it's themselves who've got the worst of it."

"Hold your jaw, you young monkey! This is no time for such crowin' as you're doin'. We've beat 'em off for a time, an' it's allowable we kick up a bit of a shindy over it; but the battle isn't ended by a long shot."

"Not ended?" I cried, coming to my senses in a measure. "Then why have the Britishers crawled away?"

"They've only hauled off for repairs, an' it stands you in hand to help make ready for what's yet to come. Stow your jaw, an' bear a hand with the rest of us!"

I was to "bear a hand" in moving the dead to one side where they would not hamper our movements, and aid in carrying the wounded below, as I soon saw, and straightway it was as if all strength had departed.

Now that the heat and excitement of the action was past for the time being, my stomach revolted at the horrible sights everywhere around, and, leaning out one of the ports, I yielded to the sickness which beset me even as it had when first we put to sea.

That I could have gloried in the terrible carnage; that I had passed the dead bodies of those who that morning had greeted me with a friendly word, and not felt my heart quiver, seemed incredible, and I shed bitter tears because of my hard-heartedness.

It was cruel as it was wicked, and I must have been possessed by a demon to have found a savage pleasure in such sickening work!

Almost without being aware of the fact I listened to a conversation among the men as to the injury we had received.

Eleven men had been killed outright, twenty-one were wounded, and two died after being carried into the cockpit. Our topsail sheets, topsail halliards, jib and foretopmast staysail halliards had been cut away, and almost the only canvas that could have been spread was the flying jib. How many shot had hulled us it was impossible to say; but, looking over the rail, one could see the big splinters sticking up here and there until it seemed that we must have been wounded in every square yard of hull on the stern and starboard side from the water line upward.

It seemed impossible that we could continue the action another moment, and yet our men were cheerily making preparations to renew the fight.

I believe it was the knowledge that we would soon be under fire again which aided me in so far pulling myself together that I could obey orders; and even when I was in the thick of the terrible work the sight of a pool of blood would cause an upheaval of my stomach, although when the wounds were received and I might have said a soothing word to the dying, all this carnage was as nothing.

It is beyond my poor skill with a pen to set down the second portion of this wicked fight into which we had been so cowardly forced, and also because I know very little of it from my own knowledge. When the Britishers came down upon us again the fever of battle took hold of me once more, and I was little less than crazy.

Here is the remainder of the story, at which Britishers should blush, as told by one who quietly pieced together the accounts given him by the survivors:—

"The enemy was not long in making his repairs, and both ships next took a position on the starboard quarter of the Essex, where it was not in the power of the latter vessel to bring a single gun to bear upon him, as he was too distant to be reached by carronades. His fire was very galling, and it left no alternative to Captain Porter between submission and running down to assail him. He gallantly decided on the latter. But by this time the Essex had received many serious injuries in addition to the loss of her topmast. The only sail that could be got upon the ship to make her head pay off was the flying jib, which was hoisted when the cable was cut, and the vessel edged away with the intention of laying the Phoebe aboard.

"The foretopsail and the foresail were not let fall, though for want of tacks and sheets they were nearly useless. Still the Essex drove down on her assailants, closing near enough to open with her carronades. For a few minutes the firing on both sides was tremendous, the people of the Essex proving their discipline and gallantry at that trying moment in a way to justify all the high expectations that had been formed of them, though their decks were already strewn with killed, and the cockpit was crowded with the wounded. This work proved too hot for the Cherub, which hauled off a second time, nor did she come near enough to use her carronades again, during the remainder of the action keeping up a distant fire with her long guns.

"The Phoebe discovered no disposition to throw away the immense advantage she possessed in her long eighteens; and when she found the Essex's fire becoming warm she kept edging off, throwing her shot at the same time with fatal effect, cutting down the people of her antagonist almost with impunity to herself. By this time many of the guns of the American ship were disabled, and the crews of several had been swept away. One particular gun was a scene of carnage that is seldom witnessed in a naval combat, nearly three entire crews falling at it in the course of the action. Its captain alone escaped with a slight wound.

"This scene of almost unresisting carnage had now lasted nearly two hours, and finding it impossible to close with his adversary, who chose his distance at pleasure, Captain Porter felt the necessity of taking some prompt measure if he would prevent the enemy from getting possession of his ship. The wind had hauled to the westward, and he saw a hope of running her ashore at a spot where he might land his people and set her on fire. For a few minutes everything appeared to favor this design, and the Essex had drifted within musket-shot of the beach when the wind suddenly shifted from the land, paying the ship's head off in a way to leave her exposed to a dreadful raking fire. Still, as she was again closing with the Phoebe, Captain Porter indulged a hope of finally laying that ship aboard.

"At this moment Lieutenant Commandant Downes came alongside the Essex in order to receive the orders of his commanding officer, having pulled through all the fire in order to effect this object. He could be of no use, for the enemy again put his helm up and kept away, when Mr. Downes, after remaining in the Essex ten minutes, was directed to return to his own ship and make preparations to defend, or, at need, to destroy her. On going away he carried off several of the Essex's wounded, leaving three of his own men behind him in order to make room in the boat.

"The slaughter in the Essex having got to be too horrible, the enemy firing with deliberation and hulling her at almost every shot, Captain Porter, as a last resort, ordered a hawser to be bent to the sheet anchor, and the latter let go in order to bring the head of the ship around. This effected the object, and once more the Americans got their broadside to bear, remaining stationary themselves, while their enemy, a good deal crippled, was drifting slowly to leeward. Even in these desperate circumstances a ray of hope gleamed through this little advantage, and Captain Porter was beginning to believe that the Phoebe would drift out of gun-shot before she discovered his expedient, when the hawser parted with the strain.

"There was no longer any chance of saving the ship. To add to his distress she was on fire, the flames coming up both the main and forward hatchways; and for a few moments it was thought she would thus be destroyed. An explosion of powder also occurred below, to add to the horrors of the scene, and Captain Porter told his people that, in preference to being blown up, all who chose to incur the risk might attempt to reach the shore by swimming. Many availed themselves of this permission, and some succeeded in effecting their escape. Others perished, while a few, after drifting about on bits of spars, were picked up by the boats of the enemy. Much the greater part of the crew, however, remained in the ship, and they set about an attempt to extinguish the flames, although the shot of the enemy was committing its havoc the whole time. Fortunately, the fire was got under, when the few brave men who were left went again to the long guns.

"The moment had now arrived when Captain Porter was to decide between submission or the destruction of the remainder of his people. In the midst of this scene of slaughter he had himself been untouched, and it would seem that he felt himself called upon to resist as long as his own strength allowed. But his remaining people entreated him to remember his wounded, and he at last consented to summon his officers. Only one, Lieutenant McKnight, could join him on the quarter-deck! The first lieutenant, Mr. Wilmer, had been knocked overboard by a splinter and drowned, while getting the sheet anchor from the bows; Lieutenant Cowell, the next in rank, was mortally wounded; Lieutenant Odenheimer had just been knocked overboard from the quarter, and did not regain the vessel for several moments. The reports of the state of the ship were fearful. A large portion of the guns were disabled, even had there been men left to fight them. The berth-deck, steerage, wardroom, and cockpit were full of wounded, and the latter were even killed by shot while under the surgeon's hands. The carpenter was sent for, and he stated that of his crew, he alone could perform any duty. He had been over the side to stop shot-holes, when his slings were cut away and he narrowly escaped drowning. In short, seventy-five men, officers included, were all that remained for duty, and the enemy, in perfectly smooth water, was firing his long eighteens at a nearly unresisting ship, with as much precision as he could have discharged them at a target. It became an imperative duty to strike, and the colors were accordingly hauled down after one of the most remarkable combats to be found in the history of naval warfare.

"In this bloody contest the Essex had fifty-eight men killed, including those who soon died of their hurts, and sixty-six wounded, making a total of one hundred and twenty-four, or nearly half of all who were on board at the commencement of the action. Of the missing there were thirty-one, most of whom were probably drowned, either in attempting to swim ashore when the ship was on fire, or by being knocked overboard by splinters or pieces of rigging. Including the missing, the entire loss was one hundred and fifty-two out of two hundred and fifty-five.

"The Essex, with a very trifling exception while closing, fought this battle with her six long twelves, opposed by fifteen long eighteens in broadside, the long guns of the Cherub, and, a good deal of the time, while they lay on her quarter, by the carronades of both the enemy's ships. Captain Hillyar's published official letter makes the loss of the Phoebe four killed and seven wounded; that of the Cherub one killed and three wounded. Captain Tucker of the Cherub was wounded, and the first lieutenant of the Phoebe was killed.

"The English ships were cut up more than could have been expected under the circumstances, the latter having received no less than eighteen 12-pound shots below the water line. It would seem that the smoothness of the water rendered the fire very certain on both sides, and it is only to be regretted that the Essex could not have engaged under her three topsails from the commencement.

"The engagement lasted nearly two hours and a half, the long guns of the Essex, it is said, having been fired no less than seventy-five times, each, in broadside. The enemy must have thrown, agreeably to the statements made at the time, not less than seven hundred 18-pound shot at the Essex."