The old “Constitution” was out on the broad ocean again! And when the
news went forth that she had succeeded for the seventh time in running
the blockade of the British squadrons, deep was the chagrin of the
Admiralty. This Yankee frigate, still stanch and undefeated, had again and
again proved herself superior to everything afloat that was British; had
shown her heels, under Hull’s masterly seamanship, to a whole squadron
during a chase that lasted three days; and had under Hull, and then
under Bainbridge, whipped both the “Guerriere” and the “Java,” two of
their tidiest frigates, in an incredibly short time, with a trifling loss
both in men and rigging. She was invincible; and the title which she had
gained before Tripoli, under Commodore Preble, when the Mussulman shot
had hailed against her oaken timbers and dropped harmlessly into the sea
alongside, seemed more than ever to befit her. “Old Ironsides” was abroad
again, overhauled from royal to locker, with a crew of picked seamen and
a captain who had the confidence of the navy and the nation.
Her hull had been made new, her canvas had come direct from the sail-lofts
at Boston, and her spars were the stanchest that the American forests
could afford. She carried thirty-one long 24-pounders and twenty short
32-pounders,--fifty-one guns in all, throwing six hundred and forty-four
pounds of actual weight of metal to a broadside. Her officers knew her
sailing qualities, and she was ballasted to a nicety, bowling along in a
top-gallant-stu’n-sail breeze at twelve knots an hour.
The long list of her victories over their old-time foe had given her men a
confidence in the ship and themselves that attained almost the measure of
a faith; and, had the occasion presented itself, they would have been as
willing to match broadsides with a British seventy-four as with a frigate
of equal metal with themselves. They were a fine, hearty lot, these
jack-tars; and, as “Old Ironsides” left the green seas behind and ploughed
her bluff nose boldly through the darker surges of the broad Atlantic,
they vowed that the frigate’s last action would not be her least. The
“Constitution” would not be dreaded by the British in vain.
For dreaded she was among the officers of the British North Atlantic
squadron. As soon as it was discovered by the British Admiralty that
she had passed the blockade, instructions were at once given out and
passed from ship to ship to the end that every vessel of whatever class
which spoke another on the high seas should report whether or not she
had seen a vessel which looked like the “Constitution.” By means of this
ocean telegraphy they hoped to discover the course and intention of the
great American, and finally to succeed in bringing her into action with
a British fleet. By this time they had learned their lesson. Single
frigates were given orders to avoid an encounter, while other frigates
were directed to hunt for her in pairs!
Charles Stewart had been one of old Preble’s “school-boy captains” before
Tripoli, the second in command. He had been one to suggest the expedition
to cut out or destroy the “Philadelphia,” the envied command of which fell
to Decatur. But he won distinction enough before the batteries there, and
afterwards when he captured the French “Experiment,” of a much heavier
force and armament than his own, in a brilliant little action. He had
entered the merchant service at thirteen, had been captain of a ship in
the India trade at nineteen, and thus from his boyhood had been schooled
in the finer points of rough-and-ready seamanship.
He was born in Philadelphia, in 1778, at a time when the blood of
patriotism ran hot in the veins of the mothers as well as of the fathers
of the race, and he then imbibed the principles he afterwards stood for
so valiantly on sea and on land. On the frigate “United States,” that
“nursery of heroes,” he had for mess-mates Stephen Decatur and Richard
Somers; and Edward Preble gave him ideas of discipline that later stood
him in good stead. He was, like Decatur, of an impetuous disposition;
but he had learned what quick obedience meant to the service, and among
the men on the “Constitution” it was known that infractions of duty would
be quickly punished. The men tumbled quickly to the gear and handled the
guns so smartly that with his picked seamen Stewart had not been out of
sight of land a week before they attained a proficiency in manœuvre rarely
surpassed on a man-of-war. It is related that once, having received an
order from a superior officer to sail with his ship immediately, Stewart
got under weigh, towing behind him his mainmast, which he had not had the
opportunity to step.
Stewart was, of course, aware of the orders which had been issued by the
Admiralty, but with his ship in fine condition and provisioned for a long
cruise he feared nothing that floated, whether one ship or two. In fact,
just before leaving his young wife in Boston he had asked her what he
should bring her home.
“A British frigate,” said she, patriotically.
“I will bring you two of them,” he said, smiling.
Stewart sailed to the southward, in the hope of falling in with some
vessels in the India trade. For two months, in spite of their fitness,
the men were daily exercised in all weathers at evolutions with the
sails and great guns, and part of the day was given to cutlass-work and
pistol-practice. No emergency drill was overlooked, and from reefing
topsails to sending up spare spars or setting stu’n-sails they moved
like the co-ordinated parts of a great machine. But one prize having been
taken, however, Stewart set his course for the coast of Europe, to seek
the lion, like Paul Jones, on his own cruising ground.
On February 18, 1815, just two months after leaving Boston, the
“Constitution,” being then near the Portuguese coast, sighted a large
sail, and immediately squared away in pursuit. But hardly were they set
on their new course before another sail hove up to leeward, and Stewart
quickly made down for her. Overhauling her shortly, she was discovered to
be the British merchant ship “Susan,” which he seized as a prize and sent
back to Boston. Meanwhile the other sail, which afterwards proved to be
the “Elizabeth,” 74, had disappeared.
The following day the “Constitution” was holding a course to the southward
from the coast of Spain toward Madeira. A group of her officers stood
upon her quarter-deck, watching the scud flying to leeward. They were
rather a discontented lot. They had been to sea two months, and beyond
a few merchant prizes they had nothing to show for their cruise. It was
not like the luck of “Old Ironsides.” What they craved was action to
put a confirmatory test to the metal they were so sure of. The fo’c’s’le
was grumbling, too; and the men who had been in her when she fought the
“Guerriere” and the “Java” could no longer in safety boast of the glory
of those combats.
Had they but known it, the “Elizabeth,” 74, and the “Tiber,” 38, in
command of Captain Dacres, who had lost the “Guerriere,” were but a few
hours astern of them; and the “Leander,” 50, the “Newcastle,” 50, and the
“Acasta,” 40, whom they had so skilfully eluded at Boston, were dashing
along from the westward in pursuit. The seas to the eastward, too, were
swarming with other frigates (in couples), who were seeking her no less
anxiously than she was seeking them.
Stewart was not so easily disheartened as his officers. He knew that the
“Constitution” was in the very midst of the ships of the enemy. Had he
not known it he would not have been there. He came on deck during the
afternoon in a high good humor. He was a believer in presentiments, and
said, jovially,--
“The luck of the ‘Constitution’ isn’t going to fail her this time,
gentlemen. I assure you that before the sun rises and sets again you will
be engaged in battle with the enemy, and it will not be with a single
ship.”
The morning of the next day dawned thick and cloudy. Though well to the
southward, the air was cold and damp. The wind was blowing sharply from
the northeast, and the choppy seas sent their gray crests pettishly or
angrily upward, where they split into foam and were carried down to mingle
with the blur of the fog to leeward. Occasionally, in the wind-squalls,
the rain pattered like hail against the bellying canvas and ran down into
the lee-clews, where it was caught as it fell and whipped out into the
sea beyond.
Two or three officers paced the quarter-deck, looking now and then aloft
or to windward to see if the weather were clearing. Saving these, the
fellows at the wheel, and the watch on deck, all hands were below on the
gun-deck, polishing their arms or loitering in the warmth near the galley,
where the cooks were preparing the mid-day meal.
During the morning watch, Stewart, for some reason which he was unable
to give, save an unaccountable impulse, changed the course and sent
the ship down sixty miles to the southwest. Shortly after noon the fog
fell lower, and so thinned out at the mast-head that the lookout on
the topsail-yard could soon see along its upper surface. At about one
o’clock the welcome sound of “Sail, ho!” came echoing down through the
open hatchways. While ordinarily the sighting of a sail so near the coast
has no great significance, Stewart’s prediction of a battle had aroused
the men to a fever of impatience; and when they knew that a large sail,
apparently a frigate, had been raised and that the fog was lifting, the
watch below dropped their kits and tools and tumbled up on deck to have
a glimpse of the stranger. Here and there wider rifts appeared in the
fog-banks, and the midshipman of the watch, who climbed with a glass into
the foretop, soon made her out to be a frigate bearing about two points
on the port-bow.
Stewart came up from below and immediately crowded on top-gallant-sails
and royals in pursuit. Before long the weather had cleared, so that they
could make out the horizon to windward, and from the deck could dimly
discern the hazy mass of the chase as she hung on the lee-bow, apparently
motionless. In less than an hour the man at the mast-head reported another
sail ahead of the first one, and noted that signals were being exchanged
between them.
It was now almost a certainty that the vessels were those of the enemy.
Forward the men were slapping one another on the back, and rough jokes and
laughter resounded from the gun-deck, where the boys and stewards were
clearing away the mess-dishes and stowing away all gear, in preparation
for a possible action. On the quarter-deck wagers were freely offered on
the character of the vessels, which looked to be frigates of 50 and 38.
Stewart glanced aloft at the straining spars and smiled confidently.
By this time the nearer frigate bore down within the range of the
glasses, and they could see that she was painted with double yellow
lines, and apparently cut for fifty guns. As it afterwards appeared, she
had a double gun-streak, false ports having been painted in her waist.
Lieutenant Ballard, who had been carefully examining her with his glasses,
remarked to the captain, who stood at his elbow, that she must at least
be a fifty-gun ship. Stewart, after a long look, suggested that she was
too small to be a ship of that class. “However,” he continued, “be this
as it may, you know I have promised you a fight before the setting of
to-morrow’s sun; and if we do not take it, now that it is offered, we may
not have another chance. We must flog them when we catch them, whether
she has one gun-deck or two.”
Signals were now constantly interchanged between the vessels, and by three
o’clock the “Constitution” had come so near that they were plainly made
out to be two small frigates, or a frigate and a sloop-of-war, both close
hauled on the starboard tack. The “Constitution,” having the windward
gauge, now manœuvred more carefully, and, hauling her sheets flat aft,
pointed up so as to keep the advantage of position.
[Illustration: “NO ‘DUTCH COURAGE’ ON _THIS_ SHIP”]
As the vessels came nearer and an action became certain, the stewards came
on deck with the grog-buckets, in accordance with the time-honored rule on
men-of-war by which the liquor is served before a fight. Instructions had
been given that, as the battle was to be with two ships, a double portion
of the drink should be served. But just as the stewards were about to
ladle it out an old quartermaster rolled down from forward, and saying,
“We don’t want any ‘Dutch courage’ on _this_ ship,” with a great kick sent
the bucket and its contents flying into the scuppers.
About four o’clock the westernmost ship signalled her consort and bore
down to leeward to join her. The “Constitution” now set her stu’n-sails
and went bearing down after them at a strain that seemed to menace her
spars. She was rapidly drawing up with them when, just as she got well
within range of the long guns, there was a sharp crack far aloft and
the royal-mast snapped off at the cap. It was a doubtful moment, for
the Englishmen crowded on all sail to escape, and rapidly drew together,
flinging out their English ensigns as though in triumph.
But they did not reckon on the superb seamanship of the “Constitution.” In
a trice the men were aloft with their axes, the wreck was cleared away,
new gear was rove, and in half an hour a new mast was aloft and another
royal was spread to the breeze.
But the ships had been enabled to close with each other, and Stewart
had lost the opportunity of attacking them separately. They made one
ineffectual effort to get the weather-gauge, but, finding that the
“Constitution” outpointed them, they settled back in line of battle and
cleared ship for action. Stewart immediately showed his colors and beat
to quarters.
The fog had blown away and the sun had set behind a lowering bank of
clouds. The wind still blew briskly, but the “Constitution” only pitched
slightly, and offered a fairly steady platform for the guns, which were
now trained upon the nearest vessel, but a few hundred yards broad off the
port-bow. The darkness fell rapidly, and the moon came out from behind the
fast-flying cloud-bank and silvered the winter twilight, gleaming fitfully
on the restless water, a soft reproach upon the bloody work that was to
follow.
At a few moments past six the long guns of the “Constitution’s”
port-battery opened fire, and the battle was on. Both ships responded
quickly to the fire, and for fifteen minutes the firing was so rapid that
there was not a second’s pause between the reverberations. The English
crews cheered loudly. But the gunners of the “Constitution” went on
grimly with their work, sponging and loading as though at target-practice,
content to hear the splintering of the timbers of the nearest vessel as
the double-shotted thirty-twos went crashing into her. Before long the
smoke became so thick that the gunners could not see their adversaries;
and Stewart, ordering the batteries to cease firing, drew ahead and
ranged abeam of the foremost ship, with his port-battery reloaded and
double-shotted. He waited until he was well alongside before giving the
order to fire, when he delivered such a terrible hail of round-shot,
grape, and canister that the enemy staggered and halted like an animal
mortally wounded. For the moment her battery was entirely silenced, and
during the lull they could hear the cries of the wounded as they were
carried below to the cockpit. The English cheered no longer. Another such
a broadside might have finished her; but before Stewart could repeat it
he saw that the other ship was luffing up so as to take a raking position
under the stern of the “Constitution.”
Nowhere did the wonderful presence of mind of Stewart and the splendid
seamanship of his crew show to better advantage than in the manœuvre
which followed. He quickly braced his main- and mizzen-topsails flat to
the mast, let fly all forward, and actually backed down upon the other
enemy, who, instead of being able to rake the “Constitution,” found her
emerging from the smoke abreast his bows in a position to effectually
rake _him_. The “Constitution’s” guns by this time had all been reloaded,
and a terrific fire swept fore and aft along the decks of the Englishman,
tearing and splintering her decks and dismounting many of the guns of both
batteries. So terrible was the blow that she faltered and fell off. Before
she could recover from the first, another terrible broadside was poured
into her.
The other vessel now tried to luff up and rake the “Constitution” from
the bows. But the American filled away immediately and let them have
her other broadside. Side by side the “Constitution” and the larger ship
sailed, firing individually and by battery as fast as they could sponge
and load. Here and there a shot would strike within the stout bulwarks of
the American; and one of these tore into the waist, killing two men and
smashing through a boat in which two tigers were chained. A sailor named
John Lancey, of Cape Ann, was carried below horribly mutilated. When the
surgeon told him he only had a few moments to live, he said, “Yes, sir, I
know it; but I only want to know that the ship has struck.” Soon after,
when he heard the cheers at her surrender, he rose from his cot, and,
waving the stump of his blood-stained arm in the air, gasped out three
feeble cheers and fell back lifeless.
Having silenced the larger vessel, Stewart immediately hurried to the
smaller one, which had been firing through the smoke at the gun-flashes.
The “Constitution” fell off, and, gathering headway, succeeded in getting
again across her stern, where she poured in two raking broadsides, which
practically cut her rigging to pieces. Returning to the larger vessel,
Stewart rounded to on her port-quarter and delivered broadside after
broadside with such a telling effect that at 6.50 she struck her colors.
The other vessel having in a measure refitted, came down gallantly but
foolishly to the rescue of her consort. The “Constitution” met her with
another broadside, which she tried to return, and then spread all sail
to get away. But the American ship could outsail as well as outpoint her,
and under the continuous fire of the bow-chasers of the “Constitution” she
became practically helpless, and at about ten o’clock, when the dreaded
broadside was about to be put into play again, she surrendered.
It was a wonderful battle. In a fight between one sailing-ship and two the
odds were four-fold on the side of the majority. For it was deemed next
to impossible to rake without being doubly raked in return. This obvious
disadvantage was turned by Stewart to his own account by what critics
throughout the world consider to be the finest manœuvring ever known in
an American ship in action. He fought both his broadsides alternately,
and luffed, wore, or backed his great vessel as though she had been
a pleasure-boat. Neither of his adversaries succeeded in delivering
one telling raking broadside. She seemed to be playing with them, and
skilfully presented her reloaded guns to each vessel as it attempted to
get her at a disadvantage.
The larger vessel was discovered to be the “Cyane,” 32, Captain Gordon
Falcon, and the smaller one the sloop-of-war “Levant,” 21, Captain George
Douglass. The “Constitution” had fifty-one guns, while the Englishmen had
fifty-three; but of the “Constitution’s” crew four were killed and ten
wounded. On the “Cyane” and “Levant” thirty-five were killed and forty-two
were wounded.
After the battle, while the two English captains were seated in Stewart’s
cabin dining with their victor, a discussion arose between them in
regard to the part each had borne in the battle, while Stewart listened
composedly. Their words became warmer and warmer, and each accused the
other in plain terms of having been responsible for the loss of the
vessels. At a point when it seemed as though the bitterness of their
remarks bade fair to result in blows, Stewart arose and said, dryly,--
“Gentlemen, there is no use getting warm about it; it would have been all
the same, whatever you might have done. If you doubt that, I will put you
all on board again, and we can try it over.”
The invitation was declined in silence.
For this gallant action Congress awarded Stewart a sword and a gold medal,
and “Old Ironsides” soon after the war was over was temporarily put out
of commission. Her day of fighting was over. But years after, refitted
and remodelled, she served her country in peace as gracefully as she had
served it gloriously in war.