CHAPTER VIII

WHEN THE _CONSTITUTION_ SANK THE _JAVA_

THE BRITISH HAD PLENTY OF PLUCK, AND LAMBERT WAS A SKILFUL SEAMAN;

BUT HIS GUNNERS HAD NOT LEARNED TO SHOOT, WHILE THE YANKEES

WERE ABLE MARKSMEN--THE _JAVA_ WAS RUINED BEYOND REPAIR--PROOF

THAT THE BRITISH PUBLISHED GARBLED REPORTS OF BATTLES WITH THE

AMERICANS--THOUGH TWICE WOUNDED, BAINBRIDGE REMAINED ON DECK--WIDE

DIFFERENCE IN LOSSES--STORY OF A MIDSHIPMAN--WHEN BAINBRIDGE WAS A

MERCHANT CAPTAIN.

On the morning of December 29, 1812, the _Constitution_, Commodore

William Bainbridge commanding, was cruising along the coast of Brazil

under short sail, about thirty miles to the southward and eastward of

the old city of Bahia (then called San Salvador). A gentle breeze, a

swirl, perhaps, of the southeast trades, was blowing from the north and

east, and the long, low swells of the sea were roughed and flecked over

with the tiny, white-capped waves that delight the eye of the sailor

in tropical seas. The _Constitution_ had sailed from Boston some weeks

before in company with the _Hornet_, bound on a long voyage for the

destruction of the enemy’s commerce, and the _Essex_ had sailed from

the Delaware at about the same date, intending to join these two in the

waters where the _Constitution_ was now cruising. Of the doings of the

three ships up to the day mentioned something will be told further on,

but at 9 o’clock on this morning the look-out on the _Constitution_

hailed the deck and announced two sails to the north and inshore. As

the event proved, the two sails were ships, one the British frigate

_Java_, Captain Henry Lambert, and the other the American merchant ship

_William_, that had been captured two weeks before that time. As the

crew of the _Constitution_ watched the two sails it was observed that

one of them was making sail in chase, while the other headed away on a

different course, and it was therefore plain that the coming ship was a

man-o’-war looking for a fight.

[Illustration: Billet-Head of the _Constitution_.

_From the original at the Naval Institute, Annapolis._]

An hour later the _Java_ was near enough to read signals, and she

spread to the breeze a variety of small flags--the private ones by

which the British ships were to recognize each other. These, of course,

could not be answered on the _Constitution_, but Commodore Bainbridge

a little later hoisted the American private signal. When this was not

answered, Commodore Bainbridge eased away his sheets and ran off to the

southeasterly to get further off shore, where he could have abundant

sea-room. This was done at about 11 o’clock. The _Java_ at once

headed after her, taking a course that would keep the weather-gauge,

and for two hours that was what a yachtsman would call a very pretty

ladies’-day race, with the honors (sad to relate, so far as a race is

to be considered) all with the _Java_. She was much the swifter vessel.

However, after his men had had their dinner and a comfortable smoke,

Commodore Bainbridge cleared the ship for action and hoisted the

American ensign to three prominent points, and his own pennant and the

Union Jack as well. By the time all was ready the enemy had arrived

within long range, and at fifty minutes past 1 o’clock he squared away

to run across the _Constitution’s_ stern and deliver a raking fire. At

that the _Constitution_ squared away also. So the _Java_ luffed up once

more on the port tack, followed by the _Constitution_, and then, at

exactly 2 o’clock, the firing began.

The _Java_ was estimated to be half a mile away. Whatever the exact

distance, it was almost the limit of range, for when the _Constitution_

opened fire, first with one gun and then with a broadside, the shots

from her long twenty-fours fell short. The enemy soon replied, and with

a better estimate of the distance, for her projectiles landed, and

killed and wounded several of the _Constitution’s_ crew. A continuous

fire followed--a fire that filled the air with a covering fog of smoke

that all but hid each ship from the eyes of the other crew.

Meantime the _Constitution_ was luffing up and the _Java_ running free

and forging steadily ahead. The ships were soon within musket range.

Commodore Bainbridge, a six-foot man, broad-shouldered and brawny,

was pacing the quarter-deck, watching the enemy. He was an excellent

target for the British marines, and they improved their opportunity.

A musket-ball struck him in the thigh and stopped his pacing. But it

had missed both bone and artery, and going to the wheel the commodore

leaned upon the frame and continued to command his ship.

Reaching forward until off the _Constitution’s_ port-bow and almost

clear of her guns, the _Java_ squared away to cross the bows of

the _Constitution_. The _Java_ was admirably handled, but the

_Constitution_, though not so swift, was in as able hands, and around

she too came in ample time to prevent a raking.

Both ships were now headed to the westward. To the eye they were in two

cumulous, lightning-ribbed clouds on the sea, drifting along before the

wind. They were now at a range where the short guns of both ships could

be used with thorough effect, and it was a hot fight for a few minutes

until the _Java_ again forged ahead, and then she once more tried as

before to cross the Yankee’s bows and rake her. Putting up her wheel

her stern swung away from the _Constitution_ while her bow turned down,

bringing her guns to bear diagonally across the _Constitution’s_ decks.

Instantly her gunners fired a broadside, and one big round-shot struck

the _Constitution’s_ wheel, knocking it to pieces and, worse yet,

driving a copper bolt deep into the leg of Commodore Bainbridge.

A brave old sailor-man was Commodore Bainbridge. The bullet in his

thigh was ample excuse for going below, and now he had received a

still more painful wound. But no thought of leaving the deck entered

his mind. The bolt was cut from the wound and a bandage applied, when

the commodore was again in the full swing of battle--indeed he had

directed the movements of his ship while the surgeon attended the wound.

The _Java_ was heading down across the _Constitution’s_ bows, but the

_Constitution_ was kept turning as rapidly as needed. Her wheel was

gone, but there was a tiller below decks with tackles to handle it, and

a line of midshipmen passed the word from the quarter-deck to the men

at the tackles.

Around came the two ships, and now as they stood to the eastward with

their yards braced on the port tack, their head sails began to show

clear of the towering smoke-clouds. “The _Java_ kept the weather-gauge

tenaciously, fore-reaching a little.” She could choose her position.

If the _Constitution_ tried to close the distance she would have to

point her bows well-nigh straight at the broadside of the _Java_ and

so receive a raking, perhaps half a dozen, before getting yard-arm to

yard-arm, but at last Commodore Bainbridge determined to take the risk

and close, happen what might. Sheeting home the fore- and main-sails

he put down his helm and stood up at pistol range on the _Java’s_ lee

beam. Had the gunnery of the _Java_ at this time been at all worthy

of the ship, the _Constitution_ would have suffered frightfully. But

the fact was the Englishmen blazed away like a “tenderfoot” when he

sees his first deer in the Adirondacks--they blazed away, not knowing

whether their guns were aimed at high heaven or the depths of the

earth. On the other hand, the American gunners in this battle were

not a little like a grizzled Adirondack guide out for meat. As the

_Constitution_ ranged up under the _Java’s_ lee every shot told.

[Illustration: DIAGRAM OF THE BATTLE OF THE CONSTITUTION AND JAVA.]

At this Captain Lambert of the _Java_ decided to board the

_Constitution_, and headed down toward the Yankee, who was thus brought

well under the _Java’s_ lee bow, and it was now the _Java’s_ turn to

take a raking. She got it with frightful effect, for she came end on

until her jib-boom fouled the mizzen rigging of the _Constitution_.

The Yankee topmen poured their fire into the gathering boarders on the

_Java_. The Yankee gunners hurled round-shot, grape and canister that

raked the _Java_ from stem to stern. The sails of the _Constitution_

were backed to hold her where she could continue the fire. The _Java’s_

bowsprit was shot away. It was the first of her spars to go and it

dropped under her bows at 3 o’clock precisely. Five minutes later her

foremast was chopped off by the Yankee round-shot, and it fell over the

lee bow. The _Constitution_ forereached off the _Java’s_ bows, wore

around, gave her broadsides from the fresh battery thus brought into

play, came back to give her a further broadside, and, as the enemy

swung around head on because of the drag of the wrecked foremast, the

_Constitution_ wore again and gave her the port broadside. The _Java’s_

main topmast came crashing down from aloft. The gaff and boom of the

spanker followed, and last of all, at five minutes before four o’clock

her mizzen-mast was cut down as the foremast had been, carrying her

last flag with it.

[Illustration: The Battle Between the _Constitution_ and the _Java_.--I.

(At five minutes past three o’clock as the _Java’s_ foremast fell.)

_From an engraving by Havel, after a sketch by Lieutenant Buchanan._]

A hearty Yankee “hurrah” rose from the deck of the _Constitution_. At

the sound of it John Cheever, a sturdy Marblehead seaman, who was lying

on deck apparently dead from a wound he had received, opened his eyes

and, calling to a shipmate, asked what the noise was for, and in reply

learned that the enemy had struck. Springing up on one hand he waved

the other above his head and gave three cheers. But the last one ended

with the death-rattle in his throat and he fell back dead.

In just sixty-five minutes from the time that Commodore Bainbridge

decided to risk the _Java’s_ raking fire he had her rolling on the long

seas a complete wreck.

And yet the pluck of the British crew was so great that their fire

was not wholly silenced until ten minutes later, a fact of which any

Anglo-Saxon, whatever his flag, may well feel proud.

Seeing that the enemy was silenced, and his flag nowhere in sight, the

_Constitution_ stood up to windward with every spar aloft in place,

“ship-shape and Bristol fashion.” She had received one shot through the

mizzen-mast, and some other spars had been clipped and grazed by the

_Java’s_ fire; some of her running rigging and of her shrouds and stays

had been slashed, but for practical purposes she was “fore and fit.” As

the British _Naval Chronicle_ put it, “the _Java_ sustained unequalled

injuries beyond the _Constitution_.”

Nevertheless, on returning to the _Java_ the British flag was found

waving from the stump mizzen-mast, and the _Constitution_ ranged up

to give her another raking broadside. As the _Java_ was then entirely

helpless the British flag was hauled down.

[Illustration: The Battle Between the _Constitution_ and the

_Java_.--II.

(At half-past four o’clock, as the _Constitution_ began to make sail.)

_From an engraving by Havel, after a sketch by Lieutenant Buchanan._]

It was not until an actual inspection of the wreck had been made that

the real state of affairs on the _Java_ could be realized by those

on the _Constitution_. As Lieutenant Parker from the _Constitution_

climbed on board he saw her decks strewn with the dead and wounded,

while the living were busy with the grewsome task of dropping the dead

over the rail. Captain Lambert, “her able and gallant commander,”

had been mortally wounded soon after three o’clock. The command had

then devolved on Lieutenant Chads, and to him was due the credit of

the obstinate struggle after the foremast fell. And he did it, too,

in spite of the fact that he was severely wounded. Like the fierce

Lieutenant David Hope of the _Macedonian_, he was anxious to fight

even after his ship was reduced to a helpless hulk. He had striven

with desperate energy to refit his ship with a jury-rig while the

_Constitution_ was making repairs to her running rigging--had spread a

sail to a part of the main-yard that was left in place and was working

on a jury foremast when the _Constitution_ returned. But labor was

vain. The cool precision of the Yankee gunners had literally cut the

ship to pieces. Her masts were down and her hull was a sieve.

[Illustration: The _Java_ Surrendering to the _Constitution_.

_From an old wood-cut._]

The conventional comparison of the forces and losses of the two ships

cannot be made in any way better than by quoting Roosevelt’s “The Naval

War of 1812.” He says:

“Her loss (the _Constitution’s_) amounted to 8 seamen and 1 marine

killed; the fifth lieutenant, John C. Alwyn, and 2 seamen, mortally;

Commodore Bainbridge and 12 seamen, severely, and 7 seamen and 2

marines, slightly wounded; in all 12 killed and mortally wounded,

and 22 wounded severely and slightly.... In this action both crews

displayed equal gallantry and seamanship.... The manœuvering on

both sides was excellent. Captain Lambert used the advantage which

his ship possessed in her superior speed most skilfully, always

endeavoring to run across his adversary’s bows and rake him when he

had fore-reached, and it was only owing to the equal skill which his

antagonist displayed that he was foiled, the length of the combat being

due to the number of evolutions. The great superiority of the Americans

was in their gunnery. The fire of the _Java_ was both less rapid and

less well directed than that of her antagonist; the difference of

force against her was not heavy, being about as ten to nine, and was

by no means enough to account for the almost five-fold greater loss

she suffered.... The comparative force and loss: the _Constitution_

measured 1,576 tons, threw 654 pounds of metal, carried 475 men, and

lost 34. The _Java_ measured 1,340 tons, threw 576 pounds of metal,

carried 426 men, and lost 150.

“In hardly another action of the war do the accounts of the respective

forces differ so widely; the official British letter makes their total

of men at the beginning of the action 377, of whom Commodore Bainbridge

officially reports that he paroled 378! The British state their loss

in killed and mortally wounded at 24; Commodore Bainbridge reports

that the dead alone amounted to nearly sixty! Usually I have taken

each commander’s account of his own force and loss, and I should do so

now if it were not that the British accounts differ among themselves,

and wherever they relate to the Americans are flatly contradicted by

the affidavits of the latter’s officers. The British first handicap

themselves by the statement that the surgeon of the _Constitution_ was

an Irishman and lately an assistant surgeon in the British Navy (“Naval

Chronicle,” xxix, 452); which draws from Surgeon Amos A. Evans a

solemn statement in the _Boston Gazette_ that he was born in Maryland

and was never in the British Navy in his life. Then Surgeon Jones, of

the _Java_, in his official report, after giving his own killed and

mortally wounded at twenty-four, says that the Americans lost in all

about sixty, and that four of their amputations perished under his own

eyes; whereupon Surgeon Evans makes the statement (“Niles’s Register,”

vi., p. 35), backed up by affidavits of his brother officers, that in

all he had but five amputations, of whom only one died, and that one

a month after Surgeon Jones had left the ship. To meet the assertions

of Lieutenant Chads that he began the action with but 377 men, the

_Constitution’s_ officers produced the _Java’s_ muster-roll, dated

November 17th, or five days after she had sailed, which showed 446

persons, of whom 20 had been put on board a prize. The presence of

this large number of supernumeraries on board is explained by the fact

that the _Java_ was carrying out Lieutenant-General Hislop, the newly

appointed Governor of Bombay, and his suite, together with part of the

crews of the _Cornwallis_ 74, and gun sloops _Chameleon_ and _Icarus_,

she also contained stores for those two ships.

“Besides conflicting with the American reports, the British statements

contradict one another. The official published report gives but

two midshipmen as killed, while one of the volumes of the “Naval

Chronicle” (vol. xxix., p. 452), contains a letter from one of the

_Java’s_ lieutenants, in which he states that there were five.

Finally, Commodore Bainbridge found on board the _Constitution_,

after the prisoners had left, a letter from Lieutenant H. D. Cornick,

dated January 1, 1813, and addressed to Lieutenant Peter V. Wood,

Twenty-second Regiment, foot, in which he states that sixty-five

of their men were killed. James (“Naval Occurrences”) gets around

this by stating that it was probably a forgery; but, aside from the

improbability of Commodore Bainbridge being a forger, this could not be

so, for nothing would have been easier than for the British lieutenant

to have denied having written it, which he never did.

“Taking all these facts into consideration, we find 446 men on board

the _Java_ by her own muster-list; 378 of these were paroled by

Commodore Bainbridge at San Salvador; 24 men were acknowledged by the

enemy to be killed or mortally wounded; 20 were absent in a prize,

leaving 24 unaccounted for, who were undoubtedly slain.

“The British loss was thus 48 men killed and mortally wounded, and 102

wounded severely and slightly.”

Maclay, who was entirely familiar with Roosevelt’s account, gives good

reasons for believing that Bainbridge’s estimate of the enemy’s loss

was accurate--60 killed and 101 wounded.

In a footnote, Mr. Roosevelt refers to Lord Dundonald’s “Autobiography

of a Seaman” for “an account of the shameless corruption then existing

in the Naval Administration of Great Britain.” Losses, according

to this British writer, were often “much greater than were ever

acknowledged.” Brenton, the British naval historian, also tells how the

letters of the commanders were garbled.

The charge that an American commodore committed forgery is but a mild

exhibit of the British temper of the early part of the century.

To complete the story of the _Constitution_ and _Java_ fight, it must

be told that all but two of the small boats in the two ships had been

destroyed--one on each ship remained. Little account is made in the

histories of the work of removing the wounded in these two small boats

from the _Java_ to the _Constitution_, and this is very likely the

proper way to treat the matter. There is enough sorrow in the world at

all times without recalling the sorrows long past. But one story of

the brave wounded must not be omitted. Among them was Edward Keele,

a British midshipman, mortally hurt. He was but thirteen years old,

and the _Java_ was his first ship. “He had suffered amputation of a

leg, and after the action was over inquired anxiously if the ship had

struck. Seeing one of the flags spread over him, he became very uneasy,

but being assured that _it was English_, he was satisfied;” and so he

died.

Among the mortally hurt on the _Constitution_ was Lieutenant John

C. Alwyn, already mentioned. He had been wounded in the shoulder in

the _Constitution’s_ fight with the _Guerrière_, and had not fully

recovered, although able to attend to his duties. As the _Java_ bore

down to board the _Constitution_, Alwyn led the men who were called aft

on the _Constitution_, and the moment the _Java’s_ jib-boom struck the

_Constitution’s_ mizzen-rigging he jumped up on the _Constitution’s_

quarter-deck hammock-netting to repel the enemy. Drawing a pistol, he

aimed it at the crowd on the enemy’s forecastle, when a musket ball

pierced the same shoulder that had been hurt in the other fight. The

shock knocked him back to the deck. Seeing him fall, a marine in the

_Constitution’s_ mizzen-top glanced over the crew of the _Java_ until

he distinguished an officer. His eyes fell upon Captain Lambert, and,

raising his musket, he shot the captain through the left breast.

Then the ships drifted apart, but Alwyn refused to leave the deck, and

continued at his post as his captain was doing. A few days later, when

a strange sail, plainly a man-o’-war, was seen and the ship was cleared

for action, Alwyn left his bed and took his post. The ship proved to

be the _Constitution’s_ consort, the _Hornet_, but the exertion which

Alwyn made at this time brought on an inflammation that ended his life.

Captain Lambert was one of the last wounded brought from the _Java_. He

was delirious at the time, but eventually recovered consciousness. On

learning this, Commodore Bainbridge took the sword of the dying captain

in hand, and, supported by two officers (for he was now unable to walk

alone), he hobbled to Lambert’s bedside, and placing the weapon in that

officer’s hand, told of his pleasure in returning the sword of one who

had so bravely and efficiently defended his ship.

A curious story of the transfer of the unhurt is also worth repeating,

even though it borders on the realm of superstitions. It is a matter

of record that a few nights before the battle Commodore Bainbridge

“dreamed that he had a long encounter with a British vessel and finally

captured her. On board were several officers, and among them a general.

It made such an impression on him that he entered the facts in his

journal, and spoke of them to his officers. After the engagement, as he

was standing on deck, surrounded by his officers, waiting to receive

the commander of the _Java_, he saw the boat carrying General Hislop

approach. Turning to Lieutenant Parker, he said:

“That is the man I saw in my dream!”

Having transferred all the living from the _Java_ to the

_Constitution_, a survey of the _Java’s_ hulk was made. The conclusion

was that, considering the great distance from the United States (a

sailing passage from Bahia to New York will commonly average sixty

days), and the serious injuries the _Java_ had received, it was useless

to think of carrying her home. So she was set on fire on the 31st day

of December, 1812, and when, at about three o’clock in the afternoon,

the fire reached her magazine, she was blown to pieces, leaving only

her splintered spars and deck to drift with the scud of the waves to

the evergreen shore.

A Yankee ballad maker celebrated the victory with a song that was for a

long time popular. The following is a stanza:

Come, lads, draw near, and you shall hear

In truth as chaste as Dian, O!

How Bainbridge true, and his bold crew,

Again have tamed the lion, O!

’Twas off Brazil, he got the pill,

Which made him cry _peccavi_, O!

But hours two, the _Java_ new,

Maintained the battle bravely, O!

[SPOKEN.]

But our gallant tars, as soon as they were piped to quarters,

gave three cheers, and boldly swore, by the blood of the

heroes of Tripoli, that, sooner than strike, they’d go to

the bottom, singing:

[SUNG.]

Tid re I, Tid re I, Tid re id re I do.

The Congress of the United States had on June 18, 1812, enacted “That

war be, and the same is hereby declared to exist between the United

Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and the dependencies thereof,

and the United States of America and their territories.” The incapable

administration of President Madison had decided to make the war on land

and keep the few ships of the navy in port. The indomitable officers

of the navy, led by Bainbridge, had modified this determination, but

only after long argument, so that the ships were permitted to go out

to battle. Hull, magnificent in his courage, had even sailed without

orders, even while orders to keep him in port were on the way. And the

result of it all was this:

In six months those few long-derided Yankee frigates had done more

than all the navies of Europe combined together had been able to do in

twenty years. They had, in single-ship actions, captured five English

men-o’-war, destroying at least three of them beyond repair, inflicting

losses that varied from one-third to four-fifths of the beaten crews,

and the longest action, from the first to the last gun, was less

than two hours. A tremendous loss--a loss such as no English ships

had inflicted on an enemy in any single-ship battle, and the extreme

brevity of each contest, were the astounding features of these actions.

Not in all the twenty years of steady sea-fighting between the years of

1792 and 1812 had the British navy suffered five such defeats as those

inflicted upon her by the Yankees during the six months that ended when

the mountainous bluffs of Brazil echoed to the explosion of the beaten

_Java_.

[Illustration: Medal Awarded to William Bainbridge after the Capture of

the _Java_ by the _Constitution_.]

After disposing of the hulk of the _Java_, Commodore Bainbridge

landed his prisoners, as told, on parole at San Salvador (now called

Bahia). He had sailed for the East Indies, but having failed to find

the _Essex_, and having found that the _Constitution_ was suffering

from decay in some parts as well as from the serious injury to her

mizzen-mast, he decided to return home. He sailed from Bahia on January

6, 1813 and reached Boston on February 27th. Scarce need it be said

that the people were wildly enthusiastic once more in their rejoicing.

There were processions and banquets. The Congress voted a gold medal

to Bainbridge and silver medals to his lieutenants, and $50,000 to the

crew.

The news of the defeat reached England on March 19, 1813. The London

_Times_ of the next day said regarding the victory of the Americans:

“This is an occurrence that calls for serious reflection--this and

the fact stated in our paper of yesterday, that Lloyd’s List contains

notices of upward of five hundred British vessels captured in seven

months by the Americans. Five hundred merchantmen and three frigates!

Can these statements be true? And can the English people hear them

unmoved? Any one who would have predicted such a result of an American

war this time last year would have been treated as a madman or a

traitor. He would have been told, if his opponents had condescended to

argue with him, that long ere seven months had elapsed the American

flag would have been swept from the seas, the contemptible navy of the

United States annihilated, and their marine arsenals rendered a heap

of ruins. Yet down to this moment not a single American frigate has

struck her flag.”

It is worth telling, to illustrate the character of Bainbridge, that,

in 1796, he was returning from Europe in the merchant-ship _Hope_, of

which he was the captain. One day the _Hope_ was overhauled and boarded

by a British warship, and the boarding officers compelled a muster of

the crew. The mate’s name was McKinsey. He was an American, of course,

but the lieutenant at once decided that he was a Scotchman. However,

at the suggestion of Bainbridge, McKinsey entered a state-room, and

with pistols successfully defied the lieutenant, who then carried off

a common sailor. As the lieutenant left, Bainbridge declared that a

man should be taken from the first British merchantman met, to replace

the one taken. The lieutenant said Bainbridge would not dare to do so.

Five days later the _Hope_ fell in with a British brig, that had a

larger crew and eight guns to the _Hope’s_ four, and Bainbridge at once

carried out his threat, in spite of a stout resistance. He was one of

the greatest of American naval heroes.

The history of our Navy from its origin to the present day, 1775-1897, vol. 2 (of 4) · 第 8 / 19 章