The Shining Sea (48 page)

For his various accomplishments in the Pacific, both diplomatic and military, Hillyar was knighted (Companion of the Bath) in June 1815. In subsequent years, he continued to exhibit the same abilities he had shown against Porter in Valparaiso. In January 1834, he was made Knight Commander of the Bath, and on January 10, 1837, he became a rear admiral. On July 4, 1840, he was awarded the prestigious Knight Grand Cross. His domestic life was as unruffled as his naval career. Two of his sons, Charles and Henry, both became admirals. Hillyar died on July 10, 1843 at the age of seventy-four, still a much respected figure in the Royal Navy.

D
AVID
P
ORTER
'
S CAREER AFTER THE
W
AR OF 1812 DID NOT FOLLOW
the same path of uninterrupted success as those of Downes, Farragut, and Hillyar. And, as one might expect, his problems were largely of his own making. At the conclusion of the war, and for nine years thereafter, the future looked bright for him. His exploits during the war had won him the respect of Washington's political and naval elite. In recognition of his prowess, President Madison appointed him to the Board of Navy Commissioners, a prestigious body of three senior officers that Congress had created early in 1815 to assist the secretary of the navy with the burgeoning work of the department.

The navy's senior captain, John Rodgers, was chairman, and he had recommended Porter. Rodgers had a high regard for him, going back to their days in the
Constellation
under Captain Truxtun during the
Quasi-War with France. Rodgers described Porter as
“a man of far more than ordinary talents, indefatigable in whatever he undertakes and added to these, his acquirements, professional as well as more immediately scientific, are respectable.” The president and Secretary Crowninshield, both of whom had a high opinion of Porter, readily agreed.

Rogers also recommended Isaac Hull, the navy's most esteemed officer, and he was duly appointed as well. Hull did not remain long as a commissioner, however. In July 1815 he took command of the Charlestown Navy Yard, a position he much preferred, and Stephen Decatur took his place on the Board of Commissioners.

Unlike his friend Hull, Porter considered being appointed one of the three commissioners a signal honor, and he threw himself into the new assignment. There was much to do. The commissioners turned their attention to improving the navy's officers—their regulations, standards, and training, and they worked hard improving ships, guns, and yards, all of which needed attention.

Porter loved being in Washington. He purchased a grand 110-acre estate known as Meridian Hill, where he threw lavish parties, living far beyond his means. Eventually he found himself in financial trouble and had to borrow money. His friend John Downes was an easy and generous target, as was his old friend and prize agent, Sam Hambleton. Friends weren't enough, however, and Porter was forced to return to active sea duty in order to acquire more income.

The navy was happy to accommodate him. The secretary, Smith Thompson, had just the spot. On December 31, 1822 Porter was appointed to succeed James Biddle as commander of the West Indian Squadron. It was a difficult assignment. Pirates and freebooters were running wild in the Caribbean, inflicting heavy losses on American commerce. The great Spanish Empire that had existed in the Americas since the sixteenth century had collapsed, and Spain was left with just a tenuous hold on Cuba and Puerto Rico. She had lost everything else. When Porter took over in 1822, Spain was still at war with her former colonies in the Caribbean, Mexico, Colombia, and Venezuela. She had only a pitifully small force in the area, just one frigate and a few smaller warships. Her former colonies had even less. Privateers did the fighting, but they were
indistinguishable from pirates. Corrupt Spanish officials worked with the outlaws, capturing the shipping of every nation.

Porter had been viewing the chaos in the Caribbean for some time and knew how he was going to approach the problem. The first thing he did was assemble a fleet that could actually work against pirates. Biddle had had little success because his ships were too big to run into the shallow inlets, creeks, and rivers where the outlaws hid. Once Porter had his fleet up and running, he made substantial progress, particularly around Cuba and Puerto Rico. He was constantly battling a hostile climate, and the corruption of Spanish officials, but he had important help from the British West Indian Squadron. London wanted to get rid of the pirates as much as Washington did.

Despite the severe handicaps, Porter continued bringing order to the Caribbean until November 14, 1824, when an incident occurred that changed his life. On that fateful day he led 200 men and marched on Foxardo, a town in Puerto Rico. He was on a mission to chastise some corrupt Spanish officials for their rough handling of Lieutenant Charles T. Platt, commander of the
Beagle
, a schooner in Porter's squadron. Platt had visited the town in search of goods stolen from an American firm. He never got the goods, but he did get arrested and thrown in jail for three hours before being released.

Porter thought he had authority to land on Spanish territory in pursuit of thieves in the guise of Spanish functionaries. He threatened to destroy Foxardo if he did not receive an apology, whereupon the corrupt official in charge apologized profusely, made a peace offering of horses, which Porter refused, and the matter appeared settled.

When Porter made his report to the new secretary of the navy, Samuel Southard, he expected to be congratulated. Instead he was relieved of command and ordered to Washington for an investigation. Captain Lewis Warrington, one of the navy's premier fighters, replaced him. Porter was flabbergasted and outraged. Southard was following the lead of John Quincy Adams, who was at the time both secretary of state and president-elect. Adams had reacted angrily when informed of Porter's invasion of Spanish territory, not in hot pursuit of pirates, but to avenge an insult to one of his officers, who was, moreover, it turned out, in civilian clothes
at the time. Adams thought that what Porter did was highhanded and could have foreign policy repercussions. What was worse, Porter had in the past repeatedly been disrespectful to Southard. The secretary was happy that Porter was in trouble.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, Adams was overreacting. Although Porter's actions were rash, they did no real harm. Spain was not upset; she ignored the incident. Nothing was heard from Madrid, nor from the governors of Cuba or Puerto Rico. The matter should have been dropped. Focusing on Porter's conduct made it more likely to become a problem in Spanish-American relations than it otherwise was.

After Adams became president in March 1825, he insisted on a court of inquiry and then a court-martial of Porter. But after giving the matter more thought he sought a way out, suggesting to Porter's brother-in-law Joseph Anderson that an apology from Porter could solve the problem. Unfortunately, Porter refused to apologize, and in his usually intemperate manner, carried on a vitriolic attack on the president and the secretary of the navy in public, which made it appear that he was arrogantly undermining the principle of civilian control of the military, which indeed he was. He published letters he had received from the secretary and took the president to task in a venomous pamphlet,
An Exposition of the Facts and Circumstances which Justified the Expedition to Foxardo
.

Adams had no choice, then, but to proceed with the court-martial. Porter was found guilty of disobedience of orders, conduct unbecoming an officer, and insubordinate conduct. Influenced by all that Porter had done for the navy and the country, however, the court gave him the lightest possible sentence—a six-month suspension from the navy with full pay.

Porter was apoplectic over a verdict he considered grossly unfair. He categorically rejected the court's finding, and wrote that he could never again
“associate with those who were led by men in power to inflict an unrighteous sentence.” Refusing to accept the court's light punishment, Porter, in a highly emotional state, resigned from the navy on July 1, 1826, after twenty-eight years in uniform. It's hard to believe that he really wanted to leave the service he had devoted his life to, and that his father and uncle had served so well, but resign he did, vowing never to return.

Continuing to be highly distraught, he left the country and his family and went to Mexico to become head of their pathetic, practically nonexistent
navy. Perhaps he had in mind following the example of British Captain Thomas Cochrane, who found service as head of the Chilean navy after being falsely accused of participating in a swindle and being dismissed from the Royal Navy.

Whatever Porter's thought process, he had some success reforming and expanding the Mexican navy, but he continued to be stymied by an impossible political situation and rampant corruption. He wanted to return to the United States, and when John Quincy Adams lost the presidency to Andrew Jackson in 1828, Porter resigned from the Mexican navy and returned to America. In Washington, he got a friendly reception from President Jackson, who thought the previous administration, particularly Adams, had treated Porter badly.

As sympathetic as Jackson was, however, it took a long time to find a suitable position for Porter. The problem was not the president's but Porter's. He was difficult to please. To begin with, Jackson generously offered to reinstate him in the navy, which would have solved all of Porter's problems, but he rejected the idea out of hand, refusing to serve with those who had condemned him.

Months went by with Porter turning down one offer after another. Then in April 1830 Jackson proposed making him consul general to the Barbary States in Algiers. Porter accepted that position, but before he got there, the French occupied Algeria and incorporated it into France. Porter was out of a job again.

He remained in the Mediterranean for several months with nothing to do until Martin Van Buren, the secretary of state, offered him the post of chargé d'affaires to the Ottoman Empire. Porter immediately accepted. It was now 1831. From then until his death in 1843, he remained in Constantinople, returning to the United States for only a few months during 1838–1839 to urge Van Buren to promote him to minister resident in the Ottoman Empire, which Van Buren did in March 1839. Other than that one short visit home, Porter remained alone in Constantinople. His marriage had been in ruins for some time. The only family members he saw regularly were his sister Mary Brown and her family.

He evidently preferred self-imposed exile. He would have been welcomed back to America at any time and could have performed useful service in the navy. In fact, there had been no good reason for him to leave
the navy in the first place. He could have swallowed hard and accepted the light sentence of the court-martial. Indeed, he could have avoided a court-martial altogether had he been more courteous to President Adams. And he certainly could have accepted Jackson's generous offer to reinstate him in the navy. He might have done all those things and remained in the service that was his true home. No one ever questioned his exceptional talents as an officer—courage, daring, a fine mind, and exceptional leadership ability. But it was outsized ambition and excessive pride that stood in the way of the great fame David Porter sought and left him alone in Constantinople with nothing to do but nurse imagined grievances. There he died on March 3, 1843, age sixty-three.

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

I
T IS A GREAT PLEASURE TO THANK ALL THE GENEROUS PEOPLE
who have helped me write this book, beginning with my agent, Rob McQuilkin of Lippincott Massie McQuilkin. From start to finish, he offered priceless counsel. No one in the business works harder and with more effect than Rob. My wife, Kay, read the entire manuscript, contributing invaluable ideas. So, too, did Vice Admiral George Emery, U.S. Navy (Retired). He analyzed the entire first draft closely and shared his incomparable knowledge. No one knows more about the naval aspects of the War of 1812.

I was blessed with marvelous editors at Basic Books, beginning with Lara Heimert, the publisher. Her careful reading of the original drafts, invaluable insight on how best to organize the material, and wise criticism, were indispensable. Gifted, sharp-eyed writer and editor Norman MacAfee followed her with advice on every detail of the manuscript, generously sharing his great expertise. Assistant editor Katy O'Donnell provided constant help with good cheer and always good advice. I would also like to thank the manager of editorial production at Basic Books, Michelle Welsh-Horst, who saw the book through the various stages of editorial production.

My nephew, Michael Daughan, who has a special interest in, and wide knowledge of the early navy, read the manuscript and offered his trenchant
criticism. I am grateful to him. And also to my daughter Mary Daughan Sheft and her husband, Mark, for their continuous support. My brother William (Jerry) Daughan, who worked for the navy for many years, also provided help, as he always has. Support also came from old friends, David Lafayette, an old navy hand and superb writer; John Couture who served with the 82nd airborne during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and his wife, “Toots”; Howard Ladd, whose knowledge of the South Pacific is extensive, and Nikki Whitney, a writer of uncommon ability.