The destruction of the Royal Yacht

One hundred and fifty years ago this evening, Galveston Harbor was the scene of a daring night raid.

It involved two men, one of whom was Thomas Chubb, one of the most colorful and unique characters in Galveston history. Born near Boston in 1811, Chubb served with the U.S. Navy and had engaged in a variety of maritime businesses.

Chubb was a man of many talents and interests. He had managed a circus and helped build a theater. He also had played a critical role in shipping arms and ammunition to the men who fought and won the Texas Revolution.

Chubb’s obituary recites that “the powder that was burned over the battlefield of San Jacinto with which Texas gained her independence was furnished by Commodore Chubb.” Chubb emerged from the Revolution a close friend of Sam Houston.

Chubb, whose flat-roofed home still survives today at 1417 Sealy Ave., had a manner of speaking that made him memorable to visitors to Galveston.

Perhaps it was Chubb’s circus barker training, but a Union sailor recalled that the captain could “talk more in 5 minutes than any man or woman I ever heard could in 5 hours.” Another soldier claimed that Chubb could “utter more oaths in one sentence” than anyone he had ever heard.

When the Civil War broke out, Chubb was operating a small pilot schooner named the Royal Yacht. He volunteered for service with the Confederate forces and took the courtesy title of “commodore” after the Royal Yacht was chartered for a fee of $1,350 per month.

When the Union steamer South Carolina arrived at Galveston in July 1861 to initiate the blockade of the Texas coast, Chubb and the Royal Yacht were dispatched out under a white flag to determine the enemy vessel’s intentions.

Shortly afterward, Chubb and his schooner were stationed near the entrance to Galveston Bay to guard against an invasion by the federal fleet.

The Royal Yacht was lightly armed, carrying only a 6-pound short-range gun on a swivel mounting.

As the months went by and no Union ships tried to force their way into Galveston Bay, the Confederates relaxed their guard. A new Union ship (the Santee) arrived and assumed command of the blockade.

Henry Eagle, the captain of the Santee, was bold and experienced. He had serving under him a young officer from Kentucky named James Edward Jouett who was determined to make a name for himself. Together, they hatched a daring plan to invade Galveston harbor in a night raid.

Late on the night of Nov. 7, Lt. Jouett left the Santee with two launches and about 40 men. The plan called for them to enter the bay through Bolivar Roads and attempt to capture or destroy a steamer called the General Rusk that was anchored near Pelican Spit.

Rowing quietly into the harbor, Jouett and his men were making their final approach toward their objective when disaster struck. The first launch ran aground and the second launch crashed into the rear of the first, breaking some of the oars and causing a tremendous noise that alerted the Confederate sentries to the raiders’ presence.

With all hope of surprise gone, Jouett and his men began their long trip back out of the harbor toward the Santee. As they approached the entrance to the bay, about 2:40 a.m., Jouett and his men encountered the Royal Yacht and decided to try and capture or disable the vessel.

Once again, things went terribly wrong in the dark. Jouett’s launch approached within about 200 yards and attempted to fire its gun at the Confederate schooner. But the primer was wet and the gun did not fire.

Gunner William Carter replaced the primer and finally managed to fire the gun just as the launch drew alongside the schooner. The recoil from the gun pushed Jouett’s launch away.

Ironically, the gunner was the only member of the Union boarding party who had been able to reach the deck of the Royal Yacht. Now, Carter was stranded, with only his revolver to help him hold off the Confederate crew.

Lt. Jouett shouted orders and frantically directed his men to get the launch back to the position where they could send more men to board the schooner and assist the stranded gunner. But just as they reached the position where they could swing the grapnel and resume boarding, Jouett’s launch came under a murderous fire.

Some of this fire came from the crew of the Royal Yacht who now were awake and preparing to defend their ship. But Jouett was shocked to learn that the most deadly fire actually was coming from the second Union launch, which had disobeyed orders and approached from behind the first launch. Two of Jouett’s men went down under this “friendly fire.”

Lt. Jouett now was in a deadly trap. He had to make a move, and fast. He grabbed the bow rope of the schooner and hauled himself aboard the yacht, yelling to his men to follow him aboard and go to the gunner’s aid.

As he turned around to direct the attack, Jouett was immediately struck by a man carrying a boarding pike. The pike went through Jouett’s arm and into his side. Jouett turned his body, using his weight to break the pike.

Badly wounded, Lt. Jouett pulled the remains of the pike out of his body and clubbed his opponent over the head with it. Jouett’s men rushed past him and within a minute, Chubb and the rest of the Confederate crew were trapped down below the deck.

Jouett now had firm command of the Confederate schooner, with the gunner holding the Royal Yacht’s crew in check with his revolver.

Then, what had been a strange night took an even stranger twist. The crew of the second launch (which never had even loaded a boarding party) began to shout “Santee,” the cry that was supposed to signal a general retreat.

Without waiting for Jouett’s orders, the remainder of the Union crewmen quickly jumped into the launch and began to pull away from the schooner, leaving Jouett and the gunner as the only Union men on the Confederate ship.

Bleeding profusely, Jouett shouted curses and threats at the top of his lungs. After a brief pause, the men turned the launch and returned to the ship.

Jouett realized that time was growing short. It was only a matter of time before Confederate reinforcements arrived. Carter had been able to force most of the Royal Yacht’s crew up on deck at the point of his gun. But Cap. Chubb and two other crewmen refused to come up from below deck.

Jouett knew he had no time to waste. He yelled down that he was throwing down a loaded shell and instead tossed down a smoke device called a “fireball.” The trick had its intended effect, and Chubb and the remaining Confederates came rushing up from below.

Grabbing the Royal Yacht’s flag, Jouett quickly set the schooner on fire and escorted the 13 Confederate prisoners on to his launch.

As the men rowed back to the Santee, Jouett counted up the cost of his raid. His pilot had been killed early in the fight and another crewman had been wounded so severely that he died the next day.

Four other men (including Jouett) had been wounded. But Jouett had managed to set the Royal Yacht on fire and had captured the entire crew.

The captain of the Confederate ship later surprised Jouett by paying him a compliment.

“I don’t know who you are, but damn me if you ain’t a brave fellow, deserted twice by all your crew, and yet got the vessel,” Chubb said, “You are a man.”

Jouett recovered from his wounds to find he had become one of the early naval heroes of the war. The commander of the Gulf Blockading Squadron wrote a letter commending his actions that was read on the quarterdeck of every ship in the squadron.

More importantly, Jouett’s brave actions brought him to the attention of Adm. David Glasgow Farragut, who promoted Jouett and eventually saw he was given his own ship to command.

At the Battle of Mobile Bay in 1864, Farragut gave his famous command to ignore the torpedoes (mines) and steam into the entrance of the bay.

One of the men to whom he gave this command was Capt. James Jouett, whose ship (Metacomet) was lashed to the side of Farragut’s flagship. What Farragut actually said on this occasion was, ““Damn the torpedoes! Four bells! Capt. Drayton go ahead! Jouett full speed!”

Jouett retired from the U.S. Navy in 1890 as a rear admiral. Three ships were later named after him.

Admiral Jouett died in 1902 and was buried in Arlington Cemetery after a well-attended funeral at which Adm. Dewey served as a pallbearer.

The New York Times noted in his obituary that the admiral had been highly regarded throughout the country as “Fighting Jim Jouett of the American Navy.”

Adm. Jouett, the newspaper recorded, “had a long and distinguished record as a naval officer and was one of the best known men connected with the service.”

It was a record of fighting and service that got its start in Galveston Bay, 150 years ago this evening.

Edward T. Cotham Jr. is the author of four books on the Civil War, including “Battle on the Bay: The Civil War Struggle for Galveston.”