Uncle Archie

My maternal grandfather was always proud that his family had been in this country almost since the Pilgrims. In fact, they came over from England and settled in the Salem, MA area about 10 years after the landing at Plymouth Rock. A framed certificate hung on his wall proclaiming his membership in the Sons of the American Revolution, through his descent from one Peter Dolliver. He regaled us with stories of life on the frontier during the early Indian wars when one of his forefathers, caught outside in a raid, was brought down on is doorstep when a tomahawk cleaved his skull. The stories often sounded like he was actually there. The stories of this era would always end by him telling us that we were also descended from the last man hanged for horse thievery in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
Other stories included an uncle, a Wells Fargo man, who was killed during a train robbery. His widow and child, my grandfather’s cousin, had come back east after the tragic event, but later had returned to Colorado.
His own grandfather, one William Augustus Wright, owned a trading company which probably acted as middlemen, bringing goods from not only the US but the Carribbean to England where he had a partner in one Sir Francis Vernon, whence came my grandfather’s middle name, or so the story goes. My grandfather, Frank Vernon, graduated from the University of Connecticut in 1912, and after refusing a lieutenancy in the Philippine Constabulary, took a job as a civil engineer in Jamaica with the United Fruit Company.
In those days, there were no docking facilities in Kingston, and passengers were brought to shore in rowboats, propelled by native water men. As he and his trunk were safely aboard, the old man, about his father’s age, rowing the boat remarked about my grandfather’s name on his luggage. “That’s my name too,” he said.
“And what would your name be, then?” he asked to be polite.
“William Augustus Wright.”
Strangely, my grandfather’s stories, although he was fascinated with the Civil War, never included any relatives of his own. The family was wealthy enough for any male at the time to avoid service, and perhaps that’s what they did.
These stories left me, at the time, almost resentful that my father’s side of the family seemingly had no one, who participated in the great events of our nation’s history, as his father had arrived here in 1902, and having two children at the time, was exempt from service in World War I.
But then, as he grew older, and I had traveled back to Ireland to meet his family, Grand father Millar told me of his Uncle Archie. Uncle Archie arrived in the US at the time of the Civil War and was either drafted, enlisted or paid as a substitute to enlist in the Union Army, and as my grandfather told it, a cavalry regiment, as he was a superior horseman. Frustratingly, he knew little, if anything about his service, save that at the end of the war, he was suffering severely from rheumatism and being heartily sick of the United States, returned home. All he could remember was peeking into a trunk, when his uncle was an old man, and seeing a sword and a “peaked blue cap.”
Sadly only one of his sisters in Ireland had any first hand recollection of him, the others being too young to remember him when he died. They did remember a long lost sword and produced a picture of a handsome, self assured looking gentleman, and told me that local lore said that he was an avid bird hunter as well as horseman, and that, rather than hunt on foot, using a dog to flush his prey, he would gallop across the fields with the barrel of a shotgun resting between the ears of the horse. The poor animal must have suffered chronic headaches after a day of killing grouse. How much of this is true, I don’t know. What has fascinated me over the years, was that here was a man who returned to his native home after finding that the land of promise was not what he expected or even wanted to be a part of. It has never been part of what we were taught in school.

The Civil War Comes To Harpswell, Maine

In late June 1863, the Civil War was approaching two climaxes, which would ultimately lead to the Union victory. In the west, the forces of General US Grant were beginning their final push to capture Vicksburg opening the entire Mississippi River to the Union, while in the east, the Army of the Potomac was engaged in a grueling foot race with Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia as it moved north through Maryland and Pennsylvania in an attempt to attack Washington DC. At the same time, a lesser known event occurred which directly involved Harpswell.
In May 1863, Lt. Charles Reed was serving aboard the CSS Florida off the coast of Brazil when it captured the brigantine Clarence. Reed, a 23 year old native of Mississippi had graduated at the bottom of his class in 1860 from the US Naval Academy at Annapolis. The young lieutenant prevailed upon the commander of the Florida to allow him to take 20 men and head north to disrupt shipping off the east coast to try to draw away resources from the Union blockade. He was provided with a 12 pound howitzer, small arms, and the Clarence was commissioned as Florida No 2.
The intrepid Reed and his crew sailed northward along the eastern seaboard of the United States, capturing or burning several ships, and on June 12, within sight of Cape Henry, they came upon the ship Tacony. Raising an inverted American flag, a sign of distress, as a feint, Reed approached the unwary ship, sent over a boarding party and captured it. Figuring this new ship was better and faster, he transferred his men and weapons to it, and set the Clarence aflame.
The Confederate raiders had captured 6 vessels and 50 prisoners in a week. The US Navy was ordered to send any vessel available to hunt down and either destroy or capture what was now becoming a threat to Northern shipping. Even the yacht America from Reeds alma mater, the Naval Academy was sent out in pursuit. The Tacony continued to elude the hunters and between June 12 and 14, captured 15 more vessels!
June 23 found the Tacony becalmed off Portland (ME)Harbor where she was hailed by a federal gunboat. Reed bluffed them off, replying that he was a different vessel bound for Portland. As the gunboat departed, they shouted a message over the water for them to be on the lookout for rebel marauders.
Realizing that the Tacony was going to be recognized, the crew captured and took possession of the schooner Archer on June 24 near Southport and enjoyed a fine chowder dinner prepared by the Archer’s crew. The fate of the Tacony was now to be that of the Clarence, and she was set afire.
The next day, the Archer was off Damaraiscove (some accounts say Haskell’s) Island where they encountered two Harpswell fishermen, Albert Bibber and Eldridge Titcomb tending their fishing gear. The accounts also vary as to exactly what happened next. One states that the crew of the schooner represented themselves as a party of fishermen needing guidance into Portland. The other relates that the two were hailed, and asked to come aboard, and when they demurred, and armed party was put over in a small boat to persuade them to do so. Since it is unlikely that any Maine fisherman would give up a good day’s hauling to ride into Portland with a party from away, the latter is more likely the actual.
Once on board, Reed interrogated the two and learned that the steamer Chesapeake was in Portland Harbor as well as the revenue cutter Caleb Cushing.

At about 7:30 PM the unobtrusive Archer, slipped passed the forts guarding the mouth of Portland Harbor and dropped anchor. Reed ordered most of his men and his two captives below, but kept several on deck to allay any suspicions from those passing by. The rest of the crew was put to work manufacturing fire bombs from oakum and turpentine. The plan at this point was to capture the Chesapeake and steam her out of port. The chief engineer, however, determined he would not be able to get enough steam up in the boilers by himself in time to be underway before daylight. That left the Cushing as the next target of opportunity.
Most of the crew of the Caleb Cushing was ashore for the funeral of the captain, who had died quite suddenly, and there was a dance party in progress on Peak’s Island. After midnight, when all had quieted down, and the returning crew was bedded down for the night, Reed and his raiders rowed across the harbor and took possession of the cutter, securing the crew below decks. Things started going awry for the Confederates as they slipped the anchor and found themselves aground. Launching two small boats they began towing the Cushing down the harbor hoping for a morning breeze to pick up. As they drew abreast of the Archer, Titcomb and Bibber were brought on board and forced to assist in piloting. Around 4 AM, the outgoing rebels were passed by the steamer Forest City inbound from Boston. Ironically one of the passengers was Lt. James Merryman, newly assigned to take command of the revenue cutter.
To avoid risking fire from the forts at the mouth of the harbor, Reed directed the cutter up past Peaks and Hog Islands and into the gap between the latter and Cow Island, making out into Hussey Sound. Although Bibber warned the Confederates that is was a risky passage, he testified later that he was neither asked nor gave any directions as to the course. Realizing that pursuit was inevitable, be begged the rebel captain to release him and Titcomb before they got to Green Island. Reed denied his request.
In the meantime, the Portland waterfront was alive with activity. Mayor Jacob McClellan chartered four vessels to pursue the rebels and sent messages to the two army commands in the area, the 17th ME at Ft. Preble and the 7th ME at Ft. Abraham Lincoln up the Fore River. The troops from Ft. Preble, 35 men and two small field pieces were hurried aboard the Forest City, while 27 men from the 7th ME with similar weapons, were piled aboard the Chesapeake, along with 50 armed civilian volunteers. The Forest City, with its steam already up, set out in pursuit with the Chesapeake following in short order.
Meanwhile, aboard the Caleb Cushing, Bibber was still pushing his plea to be released. Finally, out by Cod Ledges, with two steamers visibly loaded with soldiers coming after them, Bibber, begged again, and was given permission to take one of the small rowboats tied along beside and go. This he did with such alacrity, that he left his fellow, Titcomb, behind with the rebels.
Reed ordered the crew to fire several shots at the approaching Forest City with the Cushing’s 32-pounder and the former pulled back out of range to protect its exposed paddle wheels. The Chesapeake bore up fast, and after a hurried, across the water conference, the two vessel captain’s agreed the Chesapeake would take the lead and run down the Cushing. Realizing the gravity of the situation, Captain Leighton called on all hands to determine what should be done. It was unanimously agreed to run the cutter down and strike her amidships. Colonel Mason commanding the army troops on board admonished his men to stand fast and stay cool.
Aboard the cutter, the situation was becoming grim for the Confederate crew. They had fired all the ammunition they had found, and knew that side arms and cutlasses would not be much of a defense against the well armed pursuers. Reed had his captives brought up on deck, still in handcuffs and loaded aboard two small boats. Someone remembered to throw them a ring of keys as they shoved off, but in their haste to escape did not remove the restraints. Reed’s crew began to set fire to the vessel, before jumping into the remaining small boats and rowed away as well.
Two citizens, one a milliner, the other the port shipping master had been jockeying for command of the volunteers and began issuing conflicting orders. As the boats carrying the released captives approached, one issued an order to fire, whereupon Colonel Mason finally took control and shouted that he would run through with his sword the first person to fire. Realizing the danger they were in, one of the former captives, Lt. Davenport from the cutter began waving his white shirt. They were brought aboard unceremoniously as if they were pirates themselves and placed under guard. Meanwhile the Forest City rounded up Reed’s crew, who had thrown their weapons overboard and fashioned a crude flag of surrender.
Volunteers came forward to board the cutter and dowse the flames, but fortunately for them Cpt. Willard, one of the Portland Harbor Pilots knew there was a great deal of powder still hidden aboard the cutter of which the Confederates were unaware. After standing back to watch it burn, the Caleb Cushing suddenly erupted in a sheet of flame and sank to the bottom.
The Rebel prisoners were brought back to shore, imprisoned at Ft. Preble and moved to Ft. Warren in Boston.
The exploits of Lt. Charles Reed and his intrepid crew are but a sidelight of the great Civil War. Their exploits were soon overshadowed by the cataclysmic events at Vicksburg and Gettysburg.

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