|Belated Triumph: The Capture
of the Frigate President
by Caleb Greinke
Weeks after the mutual armistice ending the War of 1812, the Royal Navy
captured one of the U.S. Navy's greatest treasures.
Britannia's trident had rusted over by the War of 1812. At sea, the conflict,
largely initiated by antagonistic British policies concerning the impressment
of American sailors, had produced a number of spectacular American victories
over British men o' war. The Constitution soundly trounced two
frigates already, and the smaller brigs, sloops, and corvettes of the tiny
American navy managed to compile a respectable battle record. Since Lord
Viscount Nelson's near-annihilation of the Franco-Spanish fleet at Trafalgar in
1805, British crews had seen none of the massive fleet actions which
periodically occurred in prior years. The amount of French cruisers escaping
port to wreak havoc upon Allied shipping lessened in frequency and those that
did manage to escape Britain's cordon of the European Continent were in most
cases eliminated in quick order. Thus, the vessels of the Royal Navy that were
attending to more distant stations became familiar with the monotony of the
"spit-and-polish" routine of inaction. Gunnery became lax and widespread
experience was not as common as in yesteryear. Though Britannia still wielded a
mammoth weapon in the form of her Royal Navy, its strength lay in its
overwhelming numbers and not in its fighting efficiency.
The British, recognizing the threat made by American cruisers, implemented an
expansive blockade (it being perfected against the French, Spanish, and Dutch
navies on the European Continent) to devastating effect. American commercial
interests plummeted and American warships found it difficult to escape to sea.
As a result, Decatur had spent a number of months ashore both in New London and
New York without active cruising.
Following irreversible setbacks in the Canadian border campaigns and the
catastrophic effects of the blockade upon maritime trade, the United States
Congress had initiated peace talks with representatives of Great Britain during
1814. Negotiating in the Belgian city of Ghent, representatives of the two
powers finally hammered out a mutual armistice by December of the year, and
returned relations and policies to status quo ante bellum.
The Treaty of Ghent, as it became known, was signed on Christmas Eve 1814, but
due to the long voyage time so endemic in that time period, the treaty did not
arrive in America for another month. Ironically, though peace was nominally in
effect and only awaited Congressional ratification, the individuals in distant
quarters remained ignorant and carried on with hostilities. The time between
signing and ratification of the Treaty allowed for the famous Battle of New
Orleans and the relatively unknown final cruise of the President as an
One of the central players in the upper echelons of American naval command in
the War of 1812 was Commodore Stephen Decatur, the same officer who had
distinguished himself so greatly in combat during the First Barbary War. In the
more recent conflict, Decatur, commanding the heavy frigate USS United States,
battered the luckless HMS Macedonian into submission in late 1812.
Other cruises by the famed American commander were few and largely unremarkable
affairs. By the Spring of 1814, the Navy Department detached Decatur to service
in New York City, and as a result, Decatur was given command of the 44-gun President,
the favorite flagship of Commodore John Rodgers. Decatur transferred his crew
from the United States overland from New London, Connecticut and into
their new quarters aboard the President not long after Rodgers
relinquished his command of the well-armed frigate.
December 1814 saw the assemblage of a motley collection of U.S. Navy warships
in New York Harbor. Among them was the 44-gun President, sloops Peacock
and Hornet, and the armed supply brig Tom Bowline. Their
orders, masterminded by Secretary of the Navy William Jones, were to depart at
the first expedient moment to a rendezvous off of the southern Atlantic island
of Tristan de Cunha and proceed in force to the Far East where, according to
plan, they would destroy the British Pacific and Indian trades. The flagship of
the squadron, which would depart piecemeal from port to the rendezvous, was the
President herself. Launched in 1798, she was able to count as her
sister ships the United States and the famed Constitution. Armed
officially with 44 guns, her main armament revolved around a tier of 24-pounder
cannons on the main deck, supplemented by a near-equal number of 42-pounder
carronades on her spar deck, all fitted aboard a ship with the scantlings of a
traditional 74-gun ship-of-the-line. Deadly at both long and close range, the President
was a ship specifically designed to be able to cope with vessels nominally
superior while simultaneously maintaining speed. As one of the treasures of the
American fleet, President was notable for her speed in all varieties
of conditions and gave her a reputation as a great flyer much prized by
competing American captains. She was the same ship who, wile commanded by
Commodore Rodgers in 1811, was ordered to stop Royal Navy warships which were
interdicting Northeastern merchant shipping. On the night of 16 May, President
encountered and crippled the British war-sloop Little Belt under controversial
circumstances. Even President had a significant role to play in the
lead-up to war prior to 1812.
The British blockading squadron detached to guard the exits of New York
consisted of a collection of heavy frigates. Captain John Hayes commanded the
squadron from his 58-gun flagship, Majestic. Recently razeed down from
her original 74-gun ship-of-the-line condition, this veteran of the Glorious
First of June and the Battle of the Nile acted as the powerful flagship of
Hayes' squadron. Her consorts included the 40-gun Endymion and the
38-gun frigates Tenedos and Pomone. Majestic's
presence on the American station was specifically orchestrated to entice the
American "super frigates" into an equal contest while maintaining some degree
of the upper hand. Razeed ships were ideal for just such an occupation as they
maintained their large structure and firepower but were less cumbersome than a
ship-of-the-line. Endymion was likewise an ideal assignment for the
theatre as she mounted a main tier of 24-pounder cannons with a secondary
armament of 32-pounder carronades. Both Pomone and Tenedos mounted
18-pounder guns with 32-pounder carronades.
On the evening of 13 January, the blockading squadron which had been diligently
attending to its duties was blown off of its typical beat by the arrival of a
fierce snowstorm containing gale-force winds. Hayes ordered the squadron to
move approximately 50 miles offshore nearer to the vicinity of Long Island,
with the wind blowing hard from the northwest. On the 14th, the weather
remained essentially unchanged, and the squadron was not capable of beating
back inside Sandy Hook, causing Hayes was forced to retain position his
position from the night before. The greater consequence of the blizzard was
that it allowed Decatur to attempt an escape unmolested amid the blowing storm.
In the early evening of the 14th, Decatur ordered President to weigh
anchor and make it's approach to sea. President departed accompanied
by the armed merchant brig Macedonian who likewise was using the
blizzard as a chance to disappear from New York. Before exiting New York
Harbor, every vessel was forced to navigate the dangerous submerged bar
spanning the Narrows, and the President attempted her passage at
approximately 10 P.M. Suddenly, disaster struck the warship. The US Navy marked
the proper deepwater channel for vessels to sail through, but due either to
misplaced anchored marker-boats or pilot error trying to judge the channel in
the middle of the storm, the President ran aground, and ran aground
hard. The true nature of the grounding is shrouded in some degree of mystery.
Sources indicate, as earlier touched upon, that either the harbor pilot Decatur
hired had misjudged the deep channel, or the U.S. Navy's boat-markers were
misplaced. However, while both of these explanations are equally plausible,
there remains another factor which must be taken into consideration. In 1814,
while Decatur retained command of President's sister ship United
States, he had attempted to run the blockade around New London. As he neared
the inlet, two blazing blue lights appeared on either side of the channel, and
Decatur, sensing treachery by the local inhabitants, turned back. Decatur had
every reason to suspect sabotage on the part of the deeply Federalist, anti-war
New England populace. Two blue lights extemporaneously appearing could only be
interpreted as a signal to the British that Decatur was making a run for it,
and it was this interpretation that Decatur subscribed to. Similarly, it is not
inconceivable that the two marker boats were surreptitiously moved so as to mar
a proper navigation. This possibility is only feasible so long as the markers
were left unguarded by Navy personnel, but it remains feasible nonetheless. No
matter the true culprit, the fatal error had been committed.
For nearly two hours, the President slammed against the submerged bar
with every trough of the waves. The damage done to her hull and masts were
incredibly extensive: the incessant slamming hogged the keel, even ripping off
the President's false keel. Great sheets of copper protecting her
hull were ripped away and others horribly twisted into grotesque shapes. The
frigate's masts, which traveled down to the base of the interior of the hull,
also saw extensive damage and became dislodged, twisted, and sprung. The masts,
so critical for all maneuverability, lost a significant portion of their
The men of the President labored persistently to clear the wounded
frigate from the submerged bar. The President was heavily laden with
tons of provisions to supply the anticipated long and distant raid to the South
Pacific. The preponderance of added stores might have made the difference
between a safe passage and the grounding. As a result of this possibility,
barrels of beef, pork, fresh water and ship's biscuit were thrown overboard in
a desperate attempt to lighten the vessel. Sailors coaxed the maximum driving
force possible from the President's strained masts, and amid the
raucous cheering of the men, she was finally pried free from her predicament.
Decatur's options at this point were limited. It was clear that the President
required immediate repairs to make her seaworthy again, but such a course of
action was not practicable. Unfortunately for the American frigate, the gale
had never ceased blowing from the northwest, and any hope of re-entering New
York Harbor for repairs was entirely out of the question. Decatur recognized
that the only hope of saving his ship was to commit to the sea and hope to put
in at a regional American port or a neutral port across the ocean, and it was
this, his only real option, that he ordered.
Decatur set a course which paralleled Long Island, a general route of east by
north away from New York. The gale never abated during the early hours of the President
's voyage in the Atlantic. Her progress was marked by high, choppy waves
accompanied by snow flurries which accentuated the biting, freezing wind
offered by the storm. Through the night, the lone American frigate sailed
unseen and saw no one else, which encouraged the spirits of her sailors aboard
and aided the idea that her mortal wounding in the Narrows just hours before
would prove to be inconsequential. As their fate would have it, the grounding
would be the culprit of the next 24 hours of misery and exhaustion.
In the early dawn hours of 25 January, Captain John Hayes of His Britannic Majesty'
s heavy squadron off Long Island, New York was beating into the freshening
gale. Hayes' strategic relocation two days previous was not modified; the wind
still did not yet permitted him to return to his cruising station. Hayes, a
veteran of nautical warfare, was well aware that such dirty weather was likely
to encourage his American counterparts to attempt an escape from New York.
Privateers flourished along the eastern seaboard, and with the national
blockade, the only opportunities for American cruisers to escape to sea came
during intense fog and during foul weather when visibility was poor and
blockading forces were forced to retreat further out to sea. Hayes was keenly
confident that at least one if not much of the armed and merchant shipping in
New York would make a go for the escape. As such, Hayes positioned his command
in a placement ideal for just such a situation. His command was not far off of
Long Island. Any vessels running out from New York paralleling the island would
have to first run through Hayes' gauntlet. It was just such a course that
Decatur had ordered.
At approximately 5 A.M. on the 15th, the lookout perched high atop President's
mainmast cried out with news of a number of strange sail in the offing. It did
not take long for the American officers peering through their telescopes to
determine the professional nature of these ships. The Marine drummer, like his
British counterparts, beat to quarters and roused all of the ship's divisions
to their battle stations. Decatur had sailed almost squarely into the trap that
was laid for him, and passing near to the squadron, President was
immediately pursued by Hayes' Majestic and Captain Henry Hope's Endymion,
with the Majestic taking the lead in the chase for a short initial
period. Hayes simultaneously sighted the Tenedos in the direction of
the President, and taking her for an American vessel, the British
captain ordered the Pomone to intercept the Tenedos.
Ranging shots were fired at the President approximately an hour later
by the Majestic, but no harm was done. The chase continued into the
afternoon, with the Tenedos and Pomone joining after Tenedos
was properly identified. By the early afternoon, Decatur ordered nonessential
items thrown overboard to lighten and thus increase the American frigate's
speed. Fresh water casks, provisions, boats, anchors, and spars were
unceremoniously tossed overboard to bob in the wake of the frigate. The President,
like all of its pursuers, had every stitch of essential canvas stretched and in
use. To add an extra advantage to his sails, Decatur ordered buckets of
seawater hauled up to the topmen manning the sails which were then splashed on
the sails to draw out extra wisps of breeze.
Endymion by this time had already surged ahead of her companions and
took the lead in the chase, recommencing the action with sporadic ranging shots
from her bowchasers, which were finally answered by angry shots from President
's sternchasers. The pursuit became a cat-and-mouse game. Both sides fired
their fore and aft-most guns respectively in the hope of silencing opposing
guns, tearing gaping holes in enemy sails, and shredding enemy rigging. Both
sides seized upon any opportunity to slow the progress of her nemesis, and both
sides did occasionally score hits, though not causing significant damage or
altering either ship's progress.
Proceeding east by north, by approximately 5:30 PM, Endymion had
positioned herself on President's starboard quarter and initiated a
general raking fire into the American frigate. From this position, Decatur was
incapable of bringing any of his own guns to bear on the British vessel. It was
a perfect situation for Captain Hope. Using his 40 guns, Hope poured a
devastating fire into the hull and rigging of the President. Hope did
not bring his frigate into a broadside vs. broadside placement, instead
maintaining persistent yawing motions on President's starboard
quarter. Decatur made to turn and strike the Endymion, but Hope
conscientiously kept his own ship away from a vulnerable position which would
permit Decatur such a course of action. Decatur ordered boarding parties to
assemble on the spar deck in preparation of close combat aboard the enemy
frigate. Armed with cutlasses, axes, boarding pikes and pistols and wearing
bearskin boarding helmets, the men of the President anxiously awaited
their chance to spring aboard the Endymion, defeat her crew, and
escape with her. It was not to be. Hope doggedly maintained his elusive course
and avoided the close contact which Decatur desperately needed.
By nearly 6 PM, Decatur took decisive action and swung President due
south, a course which Endymion emulated. The two frigates
simultaneously belched forth stabs of flame in the January night. In rolling
broadsides, 24 pound cannon balls screamed through the air and splashed around
the two vessels while others struck home. The President's 42-pounder
carronades, commonly known as "smashers," erupted while the United States
Marines of Lieutenant Levi Twiggs (in the fighting tops) picked off targets.
Across the water, British gun crews, stripped to the waist and laboring over
their pieces took careful aim as Royal Marines poured deadly musket fire onto
the spar deck of the President. In the copper-lined magazine below in
the President, cartridges were carefully measured and delivered into
the waiting hands of young boys, commonly known as Powder Monkeys, who ran the
ammunition up to the gun crews plying their pieces by the battle lanterns
swinging from the ceiling of the gun deck. Though her guns were fitted with
friction lock mechanisms which allowed each gun captain to pull a lanyard to
fire his gun, the scent of slow match, ready in case the lock failed, wafted
and intermingled with the acrid powder smoke. Firing on the up-roll of the
wave, the round-shot of the Endymion crashed through oak layer
shielding the American crews. Acting as wooden shrapnel, the splinters of
varying sizes scattered at high velocity in all directions striking the men,
often fatally. Decatur, who had been cheering his men on to the fight, was
early struck in the chest by the flat of a large flying splinter, which
fortunately for the Commodore, merely bruised him. Toward the close of the
engagement with Endymion, Decatur was again wounded, yet again by
another flying splinter which this time sliced a bloody gash across his head.
For a period roughly consisting of two hours, both ships dueled each other
broadside to broadside. Endymion's fire primarily focused on the hull
of the President, though not without substantial damage being done to
the rigging of the American frigate. Conversely, the fire of the President
was evidently focused on the rigging and masts of the Endymion, achieving
its desired effect. Chain, bar, and star shot tore through great swaths of the
British frigate's sails and permanently disabled her ability to sail ahead at a
reasonable rate. By 9 PM, Endymion permanently hauled herself out of
the running fight to repair her damage. President, with multiple
killed and wounded, labored southward instead of pressing the fight. The
grounding of the night before had already caused dangerous damage and leaking
within the President, and the damage wrought by the round shot of the Endymion
below the waterline merely compounded the problem. Decatur was forced to
dispatch vital detachments of men to man the pumps against the deepening well
of water, a problem which in itself caused an even more pronounced decrease in
the President's speed.
At approximately 11 PM, Pomone and Tenedos had come within
"half point blank shot" of their quarry. Captain Hyde Parker of the Tenedos,
son of the late Admiral Sir Hyde Parker, began carefully positioning his ship
on the starboard quarter of the President while Captain John Richard
Lumley of the Pomone came abreast of the President's larboard
(port) broadside. The Pomone fired a full broadside into the injured President.
Decatur reportedly hailed across to the Pomone with his surrender, but
Lumley, seeing a lantern still hoisted amongst the mizzen rigging, took the
lantern in lieu of the flag, and had his frigate fire yet another broadside
into the President. Decatur realized that the lantern might have been
the catalyst for the second broadside, and ordered it hauled down, after which
Lumley, taking it as the surrender, all firing ceased. With much consternation,
Decatur surrendered, saying in his after-action report: "about one-fifth of my
crew killed or wounded, my ship crippled, and a more than fourfold force
opposed to me, without a chance of escape left, I deemed it my duty to
surrender." The last moments of American command of the President saw
her in a terrible condition wallowing miles off of Long Island.
Three of the five American lieutenants were killed in the action, including
Lieutenant Paul Hamilton. Hamilton had been the midshipman who brought the
freshly-captured flag of HMS Macedonian to the First Lady during a
ball in Washington. Now, severed in half by a 24-pounder cannon shot, the son
of former Secretary of the Navy Paul Hamilton lay dead. Decatur survived his
two wounds, but a large amount of his crew did not. American losses were
moderately heavy considering the duration of the fight: 24 men had been killed
and 55 wounded. British sources put American losses at 60 wounded. By contrast,
British losses were comparatively light with four killed and 11 wounded.
The root of the disparity in casualties is well documented by both sides. When
Hope and Decatur mutually engaged in general rolling battle following the
alteration south, Decatur's intention was to disable Endymion and so
Decatur specifically ordered his men to attempt to disable their enemy by
dismantling her rigging and sails. With the majority of Hope's men manning the
guns below decks, with the exception of her Marines and marksmen in her tops,
there were far fewer men in the rigging for the Americans to hit. Decatur's
goal in the engagement with the Endymion was purely to disable his
opponent enough to allow himself time to escape, and not to decimate, board and
capture. British aiming was focused along the white strake of the President's
hull which housed a significant ratio of her crew. Accurate fire did not seem
to be a problem for either side as both succeeded in their goals during the
action. The Endymion was entirely forced out of the fight, and the President
was sufficiently weakened to prevent her escape from the other fresh frigates
of the squadron.
The Royal Navy seized upon the capture as a textbook case of British naval
supremacy and touted it as evidence of what the outcome would be in a "fair
fight." But was the outcome determined solely by a force of equal strength to
Considering the amount of damage suffered by the American ship in her grounding
hours before, her ability to effectively maneuver was essentially eliminated.
The capability to properly sail in the midst of battle was a required component
of a successful action, and this advantage was severed: the results of twisted
copper sheeting, hogging, and wrenched masts were only catastrophic to the
chances of the President. The British vessels had suffered no damage
of the sort that would prohibit easy sailing in the storm, and Endymion's
ability to remain on President's starboard quarter with periodic and
effective yawing acted as evidence of her uninjured state. In fact, Endymion
had had a full refit in Halifax weeks before the engagement, so it is
impossible to speculate that some existing defect or damage had undermined any
superiority of Endymion. The only fight of the chase between two fresh
vessels broadside to broadside resulted in Endymion bowing out of the
engagement for good until after President surrendered, with the
initial victory going to the handicapped participant. Should the events of the
15th have been a matter of Endymion vs. President alone in
single-ship action, even with existing handicaps caused by the grounding, it is
very probable that the Endymion would still have been added as another
capture by the US Navy. The only issue preventing this change of events was the
presence of three more Royal Navy warships (soon to be joined by the 18-gun
brig Dispatch) which forced Decatur to abandon his first adversary. British
naval historian William James in his Naval History of Great Britain made
the scurrilous argument that the President's defeat was a product of Endymion's
resolve alone, attempting to legitimize claims that the President had
been defeated in a single-ship duel. His assertions included the
characterization of the grounding as a "trifling" affair and that Decatur
entered the battle with a veritably untouched ship. James discounts the two
full broadsides of the Pomone as ineffective and had no say in the
final decision to surrender. The final reality is that without the initial
grounding, the fate of the President would have been dramatically
different, something British naval historian C.S. Forester recognized in his
history of the naval actions of the War of 1812. Undoubtedly, the damage
inflicted by Endymion had a role in determining Decatur's decision to
surrender once surrounded by Tenedos and Pomone, but it
cannot be characterized as a defeat handed to Decatur by a solitary vessel.
Assuredly, fatigue on the part of Decatur and his crew contributed greatly to
Decatur's decision to surrender. The men of the frigate were on alert from the
moment they departed their anchorage in New York and expended much of their
energy in their effort to save their ship during the grounding. From the moment
the President had run in amongst the ships of the enemy squadron,
until their capture, the men were at their quarters for a period roughly
equating 20 hours. Such a perpetually taxing persuasion wore on Decatur's men,
who's stress doubled during the engagement with Endymion. Decatur‘s
decision is thus rooted in both humanitarian and military reason. As the final
words of his after-action report support, the loss of life and injury to his
men became unnecessary because of the caliber of the force opposing him. With Pomone
engaged, Tenedos bearing up, Endymion licking her wounds but on her
way, the prodigious Majestic over the horizon in company with Dispatch,
and substantial damage to his own hull, Decatur's only sensible option was
surrender, and nothing else. Though he possessed a great flair for nautical
audacity, this was no time for a foolhardy gesture.
The American prisoners were divided equally amongst the ships of the squadron
during their transfer to Bermuda. Decatur offered his sword Captain Hayes of
the Majestic razee who chivalrously refused the token of submission.
The storm which allowed Decatur to run for the Atlantic had ceased not long
following his capture, but another storm struck up in quick succession. Endymion,
already reeling from the damage delivered to her masts and rigging by President,
was this time completely dismasted, and President likewise lost two of
her masts in the second storm.
Certainly, the prevention of Decatur raiding British Pacific and Indian assets
was a great, yet belated coup for the Royal Navy. The remaining vessels
scheduled to rendezvous off Tristan de Cunha successfully ran the blockade and
saw successful action before learning of the armistice in the months after its
ratification in February. Even the little armed merchant brig Macedonian which
had departed New York in company with the President had escaped
Decatur arrived back in New London as a passenger on the British frigate
Narcissus on 22 February where he met astounding celebration in both New London
and New York despite his loss of the frigate. Mingled with the euphoria of the
armistice, the zeal and support for the old veteran of Tripoli never waned even
in defeat. In a like fashion, Decatur and his men were acquitted of all
negligence in the late action by a routine U.S. Navy court-martial. Nor did
Decatur's colleagues and superiors lose confidence in his fighting capability
or commitment. Months later, Decatur was given command of a squadron that,
under his leadership, finally dealt a decisive blow to the Barbary Powers'
The captured President was taken across the Atlantic to the Royal Navy
base at Portsmouth where duplicate plans were drawn of her design for use by
the Royal Navy.
The capture of an American "super frigate" did much for the British propaganda
machine which sought to parade its infamous trophy in home waters as a mark of
the indefatigable strength of the Royal Navy. HMS President did not
see active service as she remained in ordinary in her berth. In 1818, after a
brief attempt to save the ship, the President was unceremoniously
broken up and her timbers sold. Another frigate was built by the British not
long afterward modeling the first President's lines, and this second
frigate, like the one she was based upon, would be christened HMS President.
Unlike the reproduction of the President in Britain, following the
death of Commodore Stephen Decatur in a duel with American Commodore James
Barron in 1820, America would never have another Decatur.
Show Footnotes and
Fowler, William M. Jr. Jack Tars & Commodores: The American Navy 1783-1815.
Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984.
Forrester, C.S. The Age of Fighting Sail: The Story of the Naval War of 1812.
Garden City: Doubleday, 1956.
Gardiner, Robert. Frigates of the Napoleonic Wars. Annapolis: Naval
Institute Press, 2000.
Guttridge, Leonard F., and Jay D. Smith. The Commodores: The U.S. Navy in the
Age of Sail. New York: Harper and Row, 1969.
Hurd, D. Hamilton. History of New London County, Connecticut. Philadelphia:
J.W. Lewis and Co., 1882.
James, William. The Naval History of Great Britain 1793-1827. 1837.
Leiner, Frederick C. The End of Barbary Terror: America's 1815 War Against the
Pirates of North Africa. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006.
Roosevelt, Theodore. The Naval War of 1812. New York: G.P. Putnam's
Sons, 1882. Reprint. New York City: Random House, 1999.
Toll, Ian W. Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the U.S. Navy.
New York: WW. Norton, 2006.
Tucker, Spencer. Stephen Decatur: A Life Most Bold and Daring. Annapolis:
Naval Institute Press, 2005.
Woodman, Richard. The Sea Warriors. New York: Carroll & Graf,
Commodore Stephen Decatur's after-action report to Secretary of the Navy
Benjamin Crowninshield, 18 Jan. 1815
Commodore Stephen Decatur's deposition before the Admiralty Court at Bermuda,
Extracts of the Log of HMS Pomone
Copyright © 2007 Caleb Greinke.
Written by Caleb Greinke. If you have questions or comments on this article,
please contact Caleb Greinke at:
About the author:
Caleb Greinke is a student with interest in Georgian Era and Early American military history. He writes from Kansas City, Missouri.
Published online: 7/23/2007.
* Views expressed by contributors are their own and do not necessarily represent
those of MHO.