Even after the "Insurgente" had struck her flag, the tars of the

"Constellation" found they had an elephant on their hands. The work of

transferring the prisoners was begun, and actively prosecuted; but,

when night fell, there were still nearly two hundred Frenchmen on the

prize. The wind was rising fast, and the long rollers of the Atlantic

were being lashed into foaming breakers by the rising gale. It was

hazardous for the two vessels to continue near each other; and

Lieutenant Rodgers, with Midshipman Porter and eleven men, was

detailed to take charge of the prize, and bring her into port. When

the officers boarded the prize, they found that they had indeed a

desperate undertaking before them. It was difficult enough for

thirteen men to handle the great ship, without having to keep in

subjection one hundred and seventy-three captives. To add to the

clanger, the gratings had been thrown overboard, and there was no way

of confining the captives in the hold. A careful search for handcuffs

resulted only in failure. But Rodgers was a man of decision, and

Porter, though but a boy, was bold and determined; and between them

they solved the problem. The prisoners were ordered below; and a

sentinel was placed at each hatchway, with orders to shoot the first

man who should attempt to come on deck. Howitzers loaded with grape

were trained upon the hatchway, for use in case of an organized

movement of the prisoners. For three days the officers sustained this

fearful strain, without a moment's sleep; but their labors were

finally crowned by successfully bringing the ship and prisoners into

St. Kitts.

In the second pitched battle of the war, the "Constellation" was again

the American combatant; but this time, though the fight was a glorious

one, it did not terminate so fortunately for the American ship. It was

on the 1st of February, 1800, that the gallant frigate, under the same

commander, was cruising about her old hunting-grounds, near

Guadaloupe. A sail was sighted, which, after a careful examination

through his marine-glass, Commodore Truxton pronounced to be an

English merchantman. As an invitation to the stranger to approach,

English colors were hoisted on the "Constellation," but had only the

effect of causing the stranger to sheer off; for she was, indeed, a

French war-vessel. Perplexed by the actions of the mysterious ship,

the "Constellation" gave chase, and soon came near enough to see that

she had caught a Tartar; for the vessel was the French frigate "La

Vengeance," mounting fifty-two guns. Although a more powerful vessel

than the American, she continued her flight; while the gallant

Truxton, caring nothing for the odds against him, kept on in hot

pursuit. All the remainder of that day, and until noon of the next,

the chase continued, with but little change in the position of the

ships. "A stern chase is a long chase," thought the jackies on the

"Constellation;" but they were not discouraged, and only crowded on

the more sail. On the afternoon of the second day, the American began

to gain rapidly; and by eight at night the two ships were within

speaking distance of each other. Truxton mounted the rail, and shouted

through a speaking-trumpet, "What ship is that?" The only answer was a

shot from the stern-port of the Frenchman, and the fight was opened.

It was then growing dark, though the faint glow of the long tropic

twilight still lingered on the western horizon. Above the towering

masts of the two great frigates, the stars gleamed with a brilliancy

seldom seen in more northern latitudes. As the ships rushed through

the water, the waves broke against the bows, and fell back in masses

of phosphorescent light; while the wakes of the vessels could be

traced far back into the darkness,--two parallel paths of light, that

glowed and sparkled like the milky way that spanned the starry sky

above.

Side by side the two frigates ploughed through the water. The creaking

of their cordage, and the rushing of the wind through the rigging,

mingled with the thunder of the cannonade, which, though slow, and

made up of single reports, when the "Constellation" was confined to

the use of her bow-chasers, soon rose to thunderous broadsides as the

two ships came side to side. As the twilight died away, the two

contestants were enveloped in almost total darkness, save for the

fitful flashes of the cannon, and the red glare of the battle-lanterns

that hung from the shrouds. The gunners had for a target nothing but a

black, shapeless mass, that could be seen rushing through the waves

some hundreds of yards away. But this did not prevent fearful

execution being done on both sides. For five hours the two ships kept

up the running fight. The ponderous eighteen and forty-two pound shot

of the enemy crashed into the "Constellation," or swept her decks,

doing dreadful damage. The deck was strewn with dead and dying men,

and the surgeons down in the cock-pit soon had their tables full of

moaning sufferers. No one could tell what might be the condition of

"La Vengeance;" but her regular fire told that she was in no wise

disabled. At one o'clock in the morning, the sound of her guns seemed

to be more distant; and by the flash of the cannon it was seen that

she was drawing out of the fight. The Americans cheered lustily, and

Truxton ordered that his ship be braced up in chase.

But the fire of the enemy had been rapid and well directed; and now,

at this critical moment, its results were to rob the "Constellation"

of her victory. As the ships were brought about, to follow in the

track of the flying "Vengeance," an officer came rushing to the

quarter-deck, and reported that all the shrouds and braces of the

foremast had been shot away, and the mast was in momentary danger of

falling. The rigging had been so literally cut in pieces by the fire

of the enemy, that splicing was out of the question; but Truxton, in

the hope of saving his mast, called all hands from the guns, and the

fire of the "Constellation" stopped.

Up in the foretop was stationed Midshipman Jarvis, with a dozen or

more of jackies, whose duty it was to mend the cordage of the topmast,

and to keep up a musketry fire upon the enemy. Long before the officer

of the deck had reported the danger of the foremast, one of the topmen

had told Jarvis, who was but a lad, that the mast was likely to fall.

"Ay, ay, my lad," responded the plucky young officer; "but our place

is here, and we must go with it."

The sailors on the deck below worked manfully: but, notwithstanding

all their efforts, the mast soon went by the board; and Jarvis and his

brave comrades were thrown far out into the black water, never to be

seen again.

The fall of the foremast ended the battle for the "Constellation."

Helpless, and cumbered by the wreck, she tossed about on the water

while her foe made good her escape. What might have been the outcome

of the conflict, had it continued, it is impossible to tell. "La

Vengeance" carried heavier metal and a larger crew than the American

frigate; and Truxton, with all his dash, found no mean adversary in

Capt. Pitot. Yet the condition of the French ship when she came into

port at Curacoa showed that the fire of the Yankee gunners had been

rapid and accurate. Fifty of the enemy were killed, and one hundred

and ten wounded; while, of the Americans, only thirty-nine appeared on

the lists of killed and wounded. It was said at the time, that Capt.

Pitot reported having struck his flag three times; hoisting it again,

on finding that in the darkness the "Constellation" took no notice of

the surrender. But this seems, on the face of it, improbable; and the

action can hardly be awarded to either ship, although the gallantry

shown on either side was enough to win a victory.

It may well be imagined that this brilliant action, together with the

capture of "L'Insurgente," made the "Constellation" the most popular

ship of the navy; a place which she held until the stirring events of

the war with England pushed the "Constitution" so far to the front,

that even now, when she lies dismantled and rotting at the Brooklyn

navy-yard, Americans still think of "Old Ironsides" as the typical

ship of our once glorious navy.

The actions between the "Constellation" and the "Vengeance" and

"Insurgente" were the chief contests between regularly commissioned

ships of the two nations in the war with France. But the West Indies

were filled with privateers and semi-piratical craft, with which the

navy waged a ceaseless warfare, which well prepared the blue-jackets

for the graver struggle which was yet to come with Great Britain. The

half-savage population of the French islands was a fruitful source of

trouble to the American seaman. These gentry, known as Picaroons,

seemed to have a natural inclination for piracy; and the unlucky

merchant-captain who should come to anchor, or be becalmed, near one

of the islands, was sure to see his vessel boarded, and his cargo

plundered, by a lawless horde of Frenchmen and mulattoes, whose

dialect was an unmusical combination of French and African tongues.

The custom of the Picaroons was to do their cruising in huge barges

propelled by sweeps. With these they would often cut out a

merchant-vessel from beneath the guns of a protecting man-of-war, and

tow her off to be plundered at leisure. Occasionally, however, their

well-laid plans failed in the execution.

One of the most noted of these occasions was the repulse of ten

Picaroon barges that attacked the United States topsail schooner

"Experiment," and a fleet of merchantmen under her charge. The

"Experiment," with her convoy, was lying becalmed in the Bight of

Leogane, in the island of San Domingo. Not a breath of air was

stirring; and the vessels, drifting about at the mercy of the

currents, soon became widely separated, and were an easy prey for the

hordes of Picaroons that swarmed in that region. In no way could the

"Experiment" secure a position which would enable her to protect all

the merchantmen. In this dilemma it was determined to disguise the

war-vessel, in the hopes that the pirates, taking her for a

merchantman, would attack her first. This was done; and, as luck would

have it, the Picaroons fell into the trap.

Although not the captain of the ship, Lieut. David Porter was in

command on this occasion; and, on hearing that ten Picaroon barges

with swivels in the bows, and crews of forty men each, were

approaching, he sent his crew to quarters, and prepared for a

desperate resistance. Onward over the smooth waters came the huge

barges, each with its twenty-six oars, looking like a mighty

centipede. On the ship every thing was quiet, as the jackies stood to

their guns, with the prospect of a deadly struggle before them. Should

the barges get to close quarters, and surround the schooner, no

earthly power could prevent their boarding, when their numbers would

surely bring them success. But the painful pause before the battle was

not long. Suddenly Porter, ever on the alert, cried out to fire. From

every gun that could be brought to bear, a storm of grape and canister

was rained upon the advancing boats; and the yells that went up from

the astounded Picaroons told of the deadly work done in the crowded

boats. For a moment, the fleet of barges fell into confusion; some

retreating, some advancing, and others drifting about helpless.

Although the murderous fire was kept up, the pirates formed again, and

attempted to get alongside, but were repeatedly beaten back. With

musketry and swivels they attempted to answer the fire of the

Americans; but with little effect, for the crew of the "Experiment"

kept close under the bulwarks. Men were precious then, and Porter

would not let one expose himself unnecessarily; but he himself, from

his prominent post of observation, was an easy mark, and a Picaroon's

bullet soon lodged in his shoulder. Notwithstanding the painful wound

he never left his post. The unexpected opposition only maddened the

Picaroons, and they made desperate attempts to get alongside; but to

no avail. Now the stern and now the bow of the "Experiment" was chosen

as the point of attack; but still the rapid fire of the jackies beat

the pirates back.

On the low-lying shores of the islands, some hundreds more of the

Picaroons had gathered to watch the conflict; and, as the boats became

short-handed from the carnage, they put back to the shore, and

returned to the fight fully re-enforced. The bodies of the dead were

thrown overboard without ceremony, and soon attracted great schools of

the fierce sharks that abound in the waters of the tropics. Then a new

horror was added to the scene. At a moment when the barges wavered and

floated for a moment without motion, Porter ordered his gunners to

load with solid shot. Two or three broadsides rang out; and, when the

smoke cleared away, two barges were seen to be sinking. The affrighted

crews bent to their oars, and strained every muscle to reach the

shore; but, while yet in deep water, the barges sunk, and the

Picaroons were left floundering in the sea. All struck out manfully

for the shore; but suddenly one sprung half from the water, and with a

horrid yell sunk from sight. One after another disappeared in the same

way; for the sharks had tasted blood, and were not to be appeased. For

seven hours the conflict raged fiercely; but at last the Picaroons

confessed themselves beaten, and sullenly relinquished their attacks

upon the "Experiment." But they were not to be wholly robbed of their

plunder; and two merchant-vessels fell a prey to their piratical

violence, before a breeze, springing up, enabled the squadron to

escape.

Before the year was over, the Picaroons had another serious defeat to

mourn over; and on this second occasion they were well punished for

their many piracies. The "Boston," a twenty-eight-gun ship, was

convoying a merchant-brig to Port au Prince, when the lookout

discovered nine large barges skulking along the shore, ready to pounce

upon the two vessels when a favorable moment should arrive. Porter was

again in command. His tactics were at once determined upon; and the

ports of the "Boston" were closed, and the ship thoroughly disguised.

The Picaroons were deceived sufficiently to make a dash upon the two

ships, and approach boldly within easy gunshot; then, discovering

their mistake, they turned and fled in panic. This time no calm

hampered the ship-of-war; and, making all sail, she dashed into their

midst. For two hours she kept within easy range of the barges; and her

gunners, working deliberately, did fearful execution in the ranks of

the enemy, and sunk three barges before the wretched fugitives could

reach the shore. After dealing out this summary justice, the "Boston"

continued her voyage, and, after leaving her convoy in the port of her

destination, began a cruise about the islands and the Spanish Main. In

the course of this cruise she met the French corvette "Le Berceau,"

which struck after a plucky action of two hours. The Frenchman was

badly cut up in hull and rigging, and shortly after the surrender her

fore and main masts went by the board. The "Boston" was but little

injured, and took her prize safely into port.

After this the fighting was chiefly confined to short, sharp affrays

between the smaller United States ships and the French privateers,

which were generally good sailers and well manned, although deficient

in metal. The great frigates like the "Constellation" found no more

adversaries worthy of their fighting qualities, and only the sloops

and topsail-schooners gave their crews a chance to smell gunpowder.

Some of these smaller actions, however, were sharp and gallant,

although their details have not been preserved like those of the

famous naval duels.

The "Experiment," after her adventure with the Picaroons, fought two

gallant battles, and was successful in each, although the second for a

time threatened to lead to international difficulties. While cruising

on her station, the vessel made two sail, which, as they came nearer,

proved to be a brig of eighteen guns and a three-masted schooner of

twenty guns, both flying the French tricolor, and both intent on

mischief. The American fled, but laid her course in such a way as to

separate the two pursuers. When night had fallen, Lieut.-Commander

Stewart, who commanded the "Experiment," saw that the enemy's forces

were divided by about a league of green water, and at once determined

to strike a blow. Doubling on his course, he ran his vessel alongside

the schooner, and poured in two or three broadsides with such rapidity

and haste that the Frenchman struck before his consort could come to

his aid. Hastily throwing Lieut. Porter and a prize-crew aboard the

prize, Stewart dashed off after the brig, which fled incontinently,

and proved too good a sailer to be overtaken. Pure audacity had

carried the day for the "Experiment," for the brig was powerful enough

to have blown her pursuer to bits in a short engagement.

The second exploit of the "Experiment" was no less gallant than this,

but in the end proved far less satisfactory. Late in a summer's

afternoon a suspicious sail was made; and the chase, begun at once,

had continued until nightfall. When darkness settled over the ocean,

Stewart calculated the course laid by the stranger, and ordered his

helmsman to keep the ship on that course until midnight, when, if the

fugitive was not overhauled, the chase would be abandoned. Just before

midnight a sail was seen near by and to windward. The men were sent to

quarters; and with guns shotted, and battle-lanterns burning, the

"Experiment" ran up under the stranger's lee, and hailed. No answer

was returned. Perplexed and irritated, Stewart ordered a shot fired

into the stranger, which was no sooner done than a broadside was

returned, which made the schooner reel. Both vessels were then plunged

into conflict, though neither knew the name or nationality of the

opponent. For a time the "Experiment" was handicapped by the heavy

wind, which laid her over so far that her guns were elevated skyward,

and her shot whistled through the enemy's tops. To obviate this,

planks were thrust under the breeches of the guns, until at last the

proper range was secured, when an active cannonade soon forced the

stranger to strike. Lieut. Porter was sent to take possession of the

prize; but the report he brought back put all thought of prize-money

out of the minds of the victors, for the stranger was a Bermudian

privateer, flying the British flag, and under the protection of a

nation with which the United States was at peace. The fault lay with

the privateers for not responding to the hail, but the Americans did

all in their power to repair the damage done. All the next day they

lay by their vanquished adversary, and the sailors of two ships worked

side by side in patching up the injuries done by the shot. By night

the privateer was able to continue her cruise, resolving, doubtless,

to avoid future conflicts with the ships of the American navy.

But to enter into the details of each of the naval duels of the French

war of 1798, would require a volume devoted exclusively to its

consideration. Although there was never a declaration of war between

the two countries, yet the warfare on the ocean was earnest, and even

desperate. Both nations went to work with a will, and the results were

of incalculable benefit to the then pygmy navy of the United States.

In their newspapers the Americans read with wonder and pride of the

successes of their new vessels and young sailors, against the trained

seamen and best frigates of France. When the war closed, the country

rang with the praises of the blue-jackets. Indeed, a record of

sixty-four French vessels captured, besides many American vessels

which were recaptured from their captors, was enough to arouse

feelings of pride throughout the nation; and the celerity with which

France seized upon the proposal for peace showed well the reputation

which our navy had gained beyond the ocean. For months after the peace

was signed, the names of Bainbridge, Truxton, Stewart, and Talbot were

household words throughout the nation; and the deeds of the gallant

ships along the Spanish Main were the favorite stories of the boys of

the land. Three of the oaken veterans, however, never came home; but

against their names must be put the saddest of all naval records:

foundered at sea. The captured "Insurgente," the "Saratoga," and the

"Pickering" simply vanished from the ocean. Over fourscore years have

passed; and of them, and the gallant lads that manned them, nothing

has ever been known. Whether they perished by the fury of the tropical

typhoon, whether a midnight collision sent them suddenly to the

bottom, or whether the ships were destroyed and the crews murdered by

the piratical desperadoes of the West Indies, can never be known.

Somewhere on the coral-strewn bed of the blue seas of the tropics lie

the mouldering hulks of those good ships, and the bones of their

gallant crews. There will they lie, unknown and unsought, until

earthly warfare is over for all men, and the sea gives up its dead.

CHAPTER III.

PROPOSED REDUCTION OF THE NAVY. -- RENEWAL OF BRITISH

OUTRAGES. -- THE AFFAIR OF THE "BALTIMORE." -- ATTACK ON THE

"LEANDER." -- ENCOUNTER BETWEEN THE "CHESAPEAKE" AND

"LEOPARD."

Not many months had elapsed after the close of the war between the

United States and France, when the pride of the nation in the navy

that had won such laurels in that conflict began to wane. In the place

of poems and editorials singing the praises and pointing out the value

of the navy, the newspapers began to be filled with demands for its

reduction. It was an unwarrantable expense, exclaimed the critics of

the press, for a nation so young, and so far from the warring peoples

of Europe, to maintain a navy at all. A few gunboats to guard the

coast would be enough. All the consequences of the reduction of the

navy at the close of the Revolution were forgotten in an instant. A

penny-wise and pound-foolish spirit came over all the political

leaders; and the Democratic party, then newly come into power,

determined to endear itself to the hearts of the people by cutting

down the expenses of the Government, and to this end they attacked

first the appropriations for the navy. A gallant fight was made

against the total abolition of the navy; and finally it was decided to

retain thirteen of the ships-of-war on the list, while the others

should be sold. With these thirteen vessels, of which the most noted

were the "Constitution," the "Constellation," and the "United States,"

the navy was placed upon a peace footing. Even this moderate squadron,

however, brought out much opposition from economically minded

statesmen; but the aggressions of the Barbary pirates, and the war

with Tripoli which opened in 1801, gave the sailor lads active

employment, and for the time the outcry of the economists against the

navy ceased.

Of the various wars with Tripoli and the other states of Barbary, we

have already given some account. The political bearing of the

Tripolitan war upon the war which afterwards followed with Great

Britain was slight; but, as discipline for the sterner reality of

naval warfare with the nation long reputed to be "mistress of the

seas," the experience of the Yankee tars with the turbaned infidels

was invaluable.

Let us, then, return to the shameful recountal of the injuries

committed by the British upon the American flag on the high seas. Even

while the United States was at war with France, and thus aiding the

British, the outrages never ceased. American sailors were still

impressed. American vessels were boarded, and often seized, on the

slightest pretexts. Even the ships of the Government were not exempt,

for the British respected no right save that of greater power.

It was in November, 1798, that the United States sloop-of-war

"Baltimore," of twenty guns, and under command of Capt. Phillips, was

in charge of a convoy of merchantmen bound to Havana. On the morning

of the 16th of that month, the sloop, with her convoy, were in sight

of their destination, and could even see the solid, towering walls of

the Moro, rising high above the low-lying shores about Havana. The

breeze was fresh and fair; and all hands expected to cast anchor

before night in the beautiful bay, oh the shores of which stands the

chief city of the island of fruits and spices. On the "Baltimore" the

jackies were busily at work holystoning the decks, until they

glistened with the milky whiteness dear to the eye of the sailor of

the days before the era of yellow pine or black, unsightly iron ships.

The shrouds and standing rigging had been pulled taut with many a "Yo,

heave ho!" until the wind hummed plaintively through the taut cordage,

as through the resounding strings of an AEolian harp. The brasswork and

polished breeches of the guns were polished by the vigorous rubbing by

muscular sailors, until they shone again. All told of a coming season

in a friendly port.

While the work of preparation for port was thus going busily on, the

lookout hailed the deck, and reported a squadron in sight. A moment's

glance convinced Capt. Phillips that the strangers were British

war-vessels; and, as they were still accustomed to annoy American

merchantmen, he hastily signalled his convoy to carry sail hard, and

make port before the British came up, while the "Baltimore" bore up to

speak to the British commodore.

Before the merchantmen could escape, however, the British cut off

three of them, under some peculiar and mistaken ideas of the law of

blockades. More than this, when Capt. Phillips paid his visit to the

English commodore in the latter's cabin, he was calmly informed that

it was intended to take from the "Baltimore" into the British service

every sailor who had not a regular American protection; this under the

new English doctrine, that every sailor was an Englishman unless

proved to be otherwise. The avowal by the British captain of this

intention filled Phillips with indignation, and he warmly protested

against any such action.

[Illustration: The British Squadron.]

It would, he insisted, be an outrage on the dignity of the nation

which he served; and, as the overpowering force of the British

rendered resistance impossible, he should insist upon surrendering his

ship should they persist in their undertaking, which was no more nor

less than open warfare. With this he arose from his seat, and leaving

the cabin, to which he had been invited as the guest of a friendly

nation, returned to his own ship.

Here he found a state of affairs that still further added to his

indignation. At the foot of the gangway of the "Baltimore" floated a

boat from one of the British ships, and on the deck of the sloop was a

lieutenant in British uniform in the act of mustering the American

crew. Capt. Phillips at once seized the muster-roll, and ordered the

officious Briton to walk to leeward, while the crew of the "Baltimore"

were sent to their quarters.

But, having done this, he became doubtful as to the course for him to

pursue. Successful resistance was out of the question; for he was

surrounded by five British vessels, one of which carried ninety-eight

guns, while the smallest mounted thirty-two, or twelve more than the

"Baltimore." Even had the odds against him been less great, Capt.

Phillips felt grave doubts as to his authority to resist any armed

vessel. He had sailed under instructions that "the vessels of every

other nation (France excepted) are on no account to be molested; and I

wish particularly to impress upon your mind," wrote the Secretary of

the Navy, "that should you ever see an American vessel captured by the

armed ship of any nation at war, with whom we are at peace, you cannot

lawfully interfere, for it is to be taken for granted that such nation

will compensate for such capture, if it should prove to have been

illegally made." After some deliberation over this clause in his

instructions, Capt. Phillips concluded that for him to make even a

formal resistance would be illegal; and accordingly the flag of the

"Baltimore" was lowered, and the British were told that the ship was

at their disposal. They immediately seized upon fifty-five men from

the American crew, who were taken away to the British fleet. But in

this wholesale impressment they did not persist. Fifty of the men were

sent back; and the squadron set sail, carrying away the five pressed

men, and leaving the men of the "Baltimore," from the captain down to

the smallest cabin-boy, smarting under the sense of an indignity and

insult offered to the flag under which they served.

Capt. Phillips hoisted his flag again, and continued his cruise. News

travelled slowly in those days; and the tidings of this latest

British insult did not reach the United States until the "Baltimore,"

returning home, brought it herself. Hardly had the ship reached port,

when Capt. Phillips hastened to Philadelphia, then the national

capital, and laid his report of the affair before the Government. In a

week's time, without even the formality of a trial, he was dismissed

from the navy.

After the lapse of more than eighty years it is impossible to look

back upon this affair without indignation, mortification, and regret.

That the naval officers of Great Britain should have been able, by the

mere force of arms, to inflict so cruel an insult upon our flag, can

but arouse indignation in the breast of every true American. And the

humiliation was great enough, without having added to it the obviously

hasty and unjust action of the authorities, in dismissing, without a

trial, an officer who had faithfully served his country. It is indeed

possible that Capt. Phillips erred gravely in his course; but justice

alone demanded for him a fair trial, and the nature of his

instructions certainly afforded him some justification for his action.

The years that opened the nineteenth century were full of events that

exerted the greatest influence over the growth of the United States.

The continuance of the Napoleonic wars in Europe, our own war with the

Barbary powers, the acquisition of Louisiana,--all these had their

effect on the growth of the young Republic of the West. But, at the

same time, England was continuing her policy of oppression. Her

cruisers and privateers swarmed upon the ocean; and impressment of

seamen and seizure of vessels became so common, that in 1806 memorials

and petitions from seamen and merchants of the seaport towns poured in

upon Congress, begging that body to take some action to save American

commerce from total destruction. Congress directed the American

minister in London to protest; but to no avail. Even while the

correspondence on the subject was being carried on, the British gave

renewed evidence of their hostility to their former Colonies, and

their scorn for the military or naval power of the United States. From

the far-off shores of the Mediterranean came the news that boats from

the fleet of the British Admiral Collingwood had boarded the United

States gunboat No. 7, and taken from her three sailors, under the

pretence that they were Englishmen. But an occurrence that shortly

followed, nearer home, threw this affair into oblivion, and still

further inflamed the national hatred of the English.

A small coasting sloop, one of hundreds that made voyages along the

American coast from Portland to Savannah, was running past Sandy Hook

into New York Bay, when she was hailed by the British ship "Leander,"

and ordered to heave to. The captain of the coaster paid no attention

to the order, and continued on his way, until a shot from the cruiser

crashed into the sloop, and took off the head of the captain, John

Pearce of New York. This was murder, and the action of the British in

firing upon the sloop was gross piracy. Such an outrage, occurring so

near the chief city of the United States, aroused a storm of

indignation. The merchants of New York held meetings at the old

Tontine Coffee-House, and denounced not only the action of the British

cruiser, but even impeached the Government of the United States;

declaring that an administration which suffered foreign armed ships to

"impress, wound, and murder citizens was not entitled to the

confidence of a brave and free people." The fact that the captain of

the offending cruiser, on being brought to trial in England, was

honorably acquitted, did not tend to soothe the irritation of the

Americans.

Occurrences such as this kept alive the American dislike for the

English, and a year later an event happened which even the most ardent

peace-lover could not but condemn and resent with spirit.

In 1807 the United States frigate "Chesapeake," then lying at the

navy-yard at Washington, was put in commission, and ordered to the

Mediterranean, to relieve the "Constitution." Nearly a month was

consumed in making necessary repairs to hull and cordage, taking in

stores, shipping a crew, and attending to the thousand and one details

of preparation for sea that a long time out of commission makes

necessary to a man-of-war. While the preparations for service were

actively proceeding, the British minister informed the naval

authorities that three deserters from His British Majesty's ship

"Melampus" had joined the crew of the "Chesapeake;" and it was

requested that they should be given up. The request was made with due

courtesy; and, although there is no principle of international law

which directs the surrender of deserters, yet the United States, as a

friendly nation, was inclined to grant the request, and an inquiry was

made into the case. The facts elicited put the surrender of the men

out of the question; for though they frankly confessed to have

deserted from the "Melampus," yet they claimed to have been impressed

into the British service, and proved conclusively that they were free

Americans. This was reported to the British minister; and, as he made

no further protests, it was assumed that he was satisfied.

Some weeks later the vessel left the navy-yard, and dropped down the

river to Hampton Roads. Even with the long period occupied in

preparation for sea, the armament of the ship was far from being in

order; a fact first discovered as she passed Mount Vernon, as she was

unable to fire the salute with which at that time all passing

war-vessels did honor to the tomb of Washington. After some days stay

at Hampton Roads, during which time additional guns and stores were

taken on, and the crew increased to three hundred and seventy-five

men, the ship got under way, and started on her voyage.

It was on a breezy morning of June that the "Chesapeake" left the

broad harbor of Hampton Roads, the scene of so many of our naval

glories. From the masthead of the frigate floated the broad pennant of

Commodore Barron, who went out in command of the ship. The decks were

littered with ropes, lumber, and stores, which had arrived too late to

be properly stowed away. Some confusion is but natural on a ship

starting on a cruise which may continue for years, but the condition

of the "Chesapeake" was beyond all excuse; a fact for which the

fitting-out officers, not her commander, were responsible.

As the American ship passed out into the open ocean, there was a great

stir on the decks of four English cruisers that lay quietly at anchor

in Lynn Haven Bay; and almost immediately one of these vessels hoisted

her anchor, set her sails, and started out in the track of the

frigate. A stiff head-wind blowing, the American was forced to tack

frequently, in order to get ahead; and her officers noticed that the

British ship (the "Leopard," of fifty guns) tacked at the same time,

and was evidently following doggedly in the wake of the "Chesapeake."

No suspicion that the pursuer had other than peaceful motives in view

entered the minds of the American officers; and the ship kept on her

course, while the sailors set about putting the decks in order, and

getting the vessel in trim for her long voyage. While all hands were

thus busily engaged, the "Leopard" bore down rapidly, and soon hailed,

saying that she had a despatch for Commodore Barron. The "Chesapeake"

accordingly hove to, and waited for a boat to be sent aboard.

The two ships now lay broadside to broadside, and only about a half

pistol-shot apart. No idea that the Englishman had any hostile designs

seems to have occurred to Commodore Barren; but some of the younger

officers noticed that the ports of the "Leopard" were triced up, and

the tompions taken out of the muzzles of the cannon. The latter fact

was of the gravest import, and should have been reported at once to

the commander; but it appears that this was not done.

In a few moments a boat put off from the "Leopard," and pulled to the

American ship, where an officer stood waiting at the gangway, and

conducted the visitor to Barron's cabin. Here the English lieutenant

produced an order, signed by the British Admiral Berkeley, commanding

all British ships to watch for the "Chesapeake," and search her for

deserters. Commodore Barron immediately responded, that the

"Chesapeake" harbored no deserters, and he could not permit his crew

to be mustered by the officer of any foreign power. Hardly had this

response been made, when a signal from the "Leopard" recalled the

boarding officer to his ship.

The officers of the "Chesapeake" were now fully aroused to the dangers

of the situation, and began the attempt to get the ship in readiness

for action. Commodore Barron, coming out of his cabin for the first

time, was forcibly struck by the air of preparation for action

presented by the "Leopard." Capt. Gordon, the second in command, was

ordered to hasten the work on the gun-deck, and call the crew to

quarters. The drummers began to beat the call to quarters, but hasty

orders soon stopped them; and the men went to their places quietly,

hoping that the threatening attitude of the "Leopard" was mere

bravado.

The most painful suspense was felt by all on board the American ship.

The attitude of the "Leopard" left little doubt of her hostile

intentions, while a glance about the decks of the "Chesapeake" told

how little fitted she was to enter into action. Her crew was a new

one, never exercised at the guns, and had been mustered to quarters

only three times. On the gun-deck lay great piles of cumbrous cables,

from the coiling of which the men had been summoned by the call to

quarters. On the after-deck were piles of furniture, trunks, and some

temporary pantries. What little semblance of order there was, was due

to the efforts of one of the lieutenants, who, suspecting trouble when

the "Leopard" first came up, had made great exertions toward getting

the ship clear. While the captain stood looking ruefully at the

confusion, still more serious troubles were reported. The guns were

loaded; but no rammers, powder-flasks, matches, wads, or gun-locks

could be found. While search was being made for these necessary

articles, a hail came from the "Leopard." Commodore Barron shouted

back that he did not understand.

"Commodore Barron must be aware that the orders of the vice-admiral

must be obeyed," came the hail again.

Barron again responded that he did not understand. After one or two

repetitions, the British determined to waste no more time in talking;

and a single shot fired from the bow of the "Leopard" was quickly

followed by a full broadside. The heavy shot crashed into the sides of

the "Chesapeake," wounding many of the men, and adding to the

confusion on the gun-deck. No answer came from the American frigate;

for, though the guns were loaded, there was no way of firing them.

Matches, locks, or loggerheads were nowhere to be found. Mad with rage

at the helpless condition in which they found themselves, the officers

made every effort to fire at least one volley. Pokers were heated

red-hot in the galley-fire, and carried hastily to the guns, but

cooled too rapidly in the rush across the deck. In the mean time, the

"Leopard," none too chivalric to take advantage of an unresisting foe,

had chosen her position, and was pouring in a deliberate fire. For

nearly eighteen minutes the fire was continued, when the flag of the

"Chesapeake" was hauled down. Just as it came fluttering from the

masthead, Lieut. Allen, crying, "I'll have one shot at those rascals,

anyhow," ran to the galley, picked up a live coal in his fingers, and

carried it, regardless of the pain, to the nearest gun, which was

successfully discharged. This was the only shot that the "Chesapeake"

fired during the affair,--battle it cannot be called.

A boat with two British lieutenants and several midshipmen on board

speedily boarded the "Chesapeake," and the demand for the deserters

was renewed. Four seamen were seized, and borne away in triumph; but

the British commander refused to receive the ship as a prize, and even

went so far as to express his regret at the loss of life, and proffer

his aid in repairing the damages. Both sympathy and assistance were

indignantly rejected; and the disgraced ship went sullenly back to

Norfolk, bearing a sorely mortified body of officers and seamen. Of

the four kidnapped sailors, it may be stated here, that one was

hanged, and the other three forced to enter the British service, in

which one died. His comrades, five years later, were restored to the

deck of the ship from which they had been taken.

[Illustration: Lieut. Allen Fires A Shot.]

The news of this event spread like wildfire over the country, and

caused rage and resentment wherever it was known. Cities, towns, and

villages called for revenge. The President issued a proclamation,

complaining of the habitual insolence of British cruisers, and

ordering all such vessels to leave American waters forthwith. As in

the reduced state of the navy it was impossible to enforce this order,

he forbade all citizens of the United States to give aid to, or have

any intercourse with, any such vessels or their crews. War measures

were taken both by the Federal and State Governments. As usual, the

popular wrath was vented upon the least culpable of the people

responsible for the condition of the "Chesapeake." Commodore Barren

was tried by court-martial, and sentenced to five years' suspension

from the service, without pay. The cool judgment of later years

perceives the unjustness of this sentence, but its execution cast a

deep shadow over the remainder of the unhappy officer's life.

For some years after this episode, little occurred to change the

relations of the two nations. The war spirit grew slowly, and was kept

alive by the occasional reports of impressments, or the seizure of

American ships by British privateers. The navy held its place amid the

national defences, although a plan devised by President Jefferson came

near putting an end to the old organization. This plan provided for

the construction of great numbers of small gunboats, which should be

stationed along the coast, to be called out only in case of attack by

an armed enemy. A contemporary writer, describing the beauties of this

system, wrote, "Whenever danger shall menace any harbor, or any

foreign ship shall insult us, somebody is to inform the governor, and

the governor is to desire the marshal to call upon the captains of

militia to call upon the drummers to beat to arms, and call the

militia men together, from whom are to be _drafted_ (not impressed) a

sufficient number to go on board the gunboats, and drive the hostile

stranger away, unless during this long ceremonial he should have taken

himself off." Fortunately the gunboat system did not work the total

extinction of the old navy.

In 1811 the British aggressions began again, and the situation became

more and more warlike. So bold had the privateers become, that they

captured a richly laden vessel within thirty miles of New York.

Shortly after, the British frigate "Guerriere" stopped an American

brig eighteen miles from New York, and took from her a young sailor.

The sea was running very rough, and a stiff breeze blowing, when the

"Spitfire" was halted by the frigate; but the American captain went

with the captured lad to the war-vessel, and assured the commander

that he had known the young man as a native of Maine from his boyhood.

The reply was, "All that may be so; but he has no protection, and that

is enough for me." With these memories fresh, it is not surprising

that Americans rejoiced when the news of an encounter terminating in

favor of the United States ship was received.

On May 7, 1811, the United States frigate "President" was lying

quietly at anchor off Fort Severn, Annapolis. Every thing betokened a

state of perfect peace. The muzzles of the great guns were stopped by

tompions. The ports were down. In the rigging of the vessel hung

garments drying in the sun. At the side floated half a dozen boats.

Many of the crew were ashore on leave. The sailing-master was at

Baltimore, and the chaplain and purser were at Washington. From the

masthead floated the broad pennant of Commodore Rodgers, but he was

with his family at Havre de Grace; and the executive officer, Capt.

Ludlow, was dining on the sloop-of-war "Argus," lying near at hand.

But the captain's dinner was destined to be interrupted that bright

May afternoon; for in the midst of the repast a midshipman entered,

and reported that the commodore's gig was coming up rapidly, with

Rodgers himself on board. The dinner party was hastily broken up, and

the captain returned to his ship to receive his superior officer. On

his arrival, Commodore Rodgers said that he had received orders to

chase the frigate that had impressed the sailor from the "Spitfire,"

and insist upon the man's being liberated, if he could prove his

citizenship. This was good news for every man on the frigate. At last,

then, the United States was going to protect its sailors.

Three days were spent in getting the crew together and preparing for

sea; then the stately frigate, with all sails set and colors flying,

weighed anchor, and stood down the Chesapeake with the intention of

cruising near New York. She had been out on the open ocean only a day,

when the lookout, from his perch in the cross-trees, reported a

strange sail on the horizon. The two vessels approached each other

rapidly; and, as the stranger drew near, Rodgers saw, by the

squareness of her yards and the general trim, symmetrical cut of her

sails, that she was a war-vessel. Perhaps she may be the offender,

thought he, and watched eagerly her approach.

As the stranger came up, the "President" set her broad pennant and

ensign; on seeing which the stranger hoisted several signal flags, the

significance of which was not understood by the Americans. Finding her

signals unanswered, the stranger wore ship, and bore away to the

southward, hotly followed by the "President." During all these

manoeuvres, Rodgers's suspicion of the strange vessel had increased;

and her apparent flight only convinced him the more of the hostile

character of the stranger. It was a stern chase and a long one, for at

the outset the stranger was hull down on the horizon. After an hour it

became evident that the "President" was gaining, for the hull of the

fugitive was plainly seen. The breeze then died away, so that night

had fallen over the waters before the ships were within hailing

distance.

A little after eight in the evening the "President" was within a

hundred yards of the chase, which could be seen, a dark mass with

bright lights shining through the rows of open ports, rushing through

the water directly ahead. Rodgers sprang upon the taffrail, and

putting a speaking-trumpet to his lips, shouted, "What ship is that?"

A dead silence followed. Those on the "President" listened intently

for the answer; but no sound was heard save the sigh of the wind

through the cordage, the creaking of the spars, and the rush of the

water alongside. Rodgers hailed again; and, before the sound of his

words had died away, a quick flash of fire leaped from the stern-ports

of the chase, and a shot whizzed through the rigging of the

"President," doing some slight damage. Rodgers sprang to the deck to

order a shot in return; but, before he could do so, a too eager gunner

pulled the lanyard of his piece in the second division of the

"President's" battery. The enemy promptly answered with three guns,

and then let fly a whole broadside, with discharges of musketry from

the deck and the tops. This exhausted Rodgers's patience. "Equally

determined," said he afterwards, "not to be the aggressor, or to

suffer the flag of my country to be insulted with impunity, I gave a

general order to fire." This time there was no defect in the ordnance

or the gunnery of the American ship. The thunderous broadsides rang

out at regular intervals, and the aim of the gunners was deliberate

and deadly. It was too dark to see what effect the fire was having on

the enemy, but in five minutes her responses began to come slowly and

feebly. Unwilling to continue his attack on a ship evidently much his

inferior in size and armament, Rodgers ordered the gunners to cease

firing; but this had hardly been done when the stranger opened again.

A second time the guns of the "President" were run out, and again they

began their cannonade. The stranger was soon silenced again; and

Commodore Rodgers hailed, that he might learn the name of his

adversary. In answer came a voice from the other vessel,--

"We are his Majesty's ship ----." A gust of wind carried away the

name, and Rodgers was still in doubt as to whom he had been fighting.

Hoisting a number of bright lights in her rigging, that the stranger

might know her whereabouts, the "President" stood off and on during

the night, ready to give aid to the disabled ship in case of need.

[Illustration: Commodore Rodgers Hails.]

At early dawn every officer was on deck, anxious to learn the fate of

their foe of the night before. Far in the distance they could see a

ship, whose broken cordage and evident disorder showed her to have

been the other party to the fight. A boat from the "President" visited

the stranger, to learn her name and to proffer aid in repairing the

damages received in the action. The ship proved to be the British

sloop-of-war "Little Belt;" and her captain stated that she was much

damaged in her masts, sails, rigging, and hull, and had been cut

several times between wind and water. He declined the proffered aid,

however, and sailed away to Halifax, the nearest British naval

station. Commodore Rodgers took the "President" to the nearest

American port.

When the "President" reached home, and the news of her exploit became

known, the exultation of the people was great, and their commendations

of Rodgers loud. "At last," they cried, "we have taught England a

lesson. The insult to the 'Chesapeake' is now avenged." Rodgers

protested that he had been forced unwillingly into the combat, but his

admirers insisted that he had left port with the intention of humbling

the pride of some British ship. Indeed, the letter of an officer on

the "President," printed in "The New York Herald" at the time, rather

supported this theory. "By the officers who came from Washington,"

wrote this gentleman, "we learn that we are sent in pursuit of a

British frigate, who had impressed a passenger from a coaster.

Yesterday, while beating down the bay, we spoke a brig coming up, who

informed us that she saw the British frigate the day before off the

very place where we now are; but she is not now in sight. We have made

the most complete preparations for battle. Every one wishes it. She is

exactly our force; but we have the "Argus" with us, which none of us

are pleased with, as we wish a fair trial of courage and skill. Should

we see her, I have not the least doubt of an engagement. The commodore

will demand the person impressed; the demand will doubtless be

refused, and the battle will instantly commence.... The commodore has

called in the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, informed them of all

circumstances, and asked if they were ready for action. Ready, was the

reply of each."

No consequences beyond an intensifying of the war spirit in America

followed this rencounter. Before dismissing the subject, however, it

is but fair to state that the account as given here is in substance

Commodore Rodgers's version of the matter. The British captain's

report was quite different. He insisted that the "President" fired

the first shot, that the action continued nearly an hour, that it was

his hail to which no attention was paid, and finally he intimated that

the "President" had rather the worse of the encounter. The last

statement is easily disproved, for the "President" was almost

unscathed, and the only injury to her people was the slight wounding

of a boy, in the hand. On the "Little Belt," thirty-one were killed or

wounded. The other points led to a simple question of veracity between

the two officers. Each government naturally accepted the report of its

officer; and, so far as the governments were concerned, the matter

soon passed into oblivion.

Not long after this episode, a somewhat similar occurrence took place,

but was happily attended with no such serious consequences. The

frigate "United States," cruising under the broad pennant of Commodore

Decatur, fell in with two British ships near New York. While the

commanders of the vessels were amicably hailing, a gun was suddenly

fired from the battery of the "United States," owing to the

carelessness of a gunner in handling the lanyard. It was a critical

moment, for the British would have been justified in responding to the

fire with broadsides. Happily, they were cool and discreet, and

Decatur made such explanations as showed that no attack or insult was

intended. This little incident is interesting, as showing the distrust

of the British which led an American captain to keep his guns primed

and cocked, while conversing with English men-of-war.

Another incident showed that the hatred of the British service that

prevailed among seamen was a matter of deep-seated conviction. While

the United States ship "Essex" was lying in an English port, it became

known that one of her crew was a deserter from the British navy, and

his surrender was immediately demanded. Although the man stoutly

protested that he was an American, yet no proof could be shown; and,

as the ship was in British waters, it was determined to surrender him.

A British officer and squad of marines boarded the "Essex" and waited

on the deck while the sailor went below to get his kit. Bitterly

complaining of the hardness of his fate, the poor fellow went along

the gun-decks until he passed the carpenter's bench. His eye fell upon

an axe; and after a minute's hesitation he stepped to the bench,

seized the axe in his right hand, and with one blow cut off the left.

Carrying the severed member in his hand, he again sought the deck and

presented himself, maimed, bleeding, and forever useless as a sailor,

to the British officer. Astonished and horrified, that worthy left the

ship, and the wounded man was sent to the sick-bay. The incident was a

forcible commentary on the state of the British service at that time,

and left a deep impression on the minds of all beholders.

In the next contest over deserters, however, the Americans rather

secured the best of the argument. The "Constitution" was lying at

anchor in Portsmouth roads, when one of the crew slily slipped

overboard and swam down with the tide to the British ship "Madagascar"

that lay at anchor near by. When he had reached the Englishman, he was

too exhausted to speak; and the officers, supposing that he had fallen

overboard accidentally, sent word to the "Constitution" that her man

had been saved, and awaited the orders of his commander. The next

morning a boat was sent down to the "Madagascar" to fetch the man

back; but, to the astonishment of the visiting officer, he was told

that the sailor claimed to be a British subject and wished to escape

from the American service.

"Have you any evidence," asked the American officer of the British

admiral, "beyond the man's own word, that he is an Englishman?"

"None whatever, sir," was the response, "but we are obliged to take

his declaration to that effect."

The American officer returned to his ship, vowing vengeance on the

harborers of the deserter. His opportunity came that very night.

In the dead watches of the night, when all was still on deck save the

monotonous tramp of the sentries, there suddenly rang out on the still

air the sharp crack of a musket. The officer of the deck rushed to see

what was the matter, and was shown a dark object floating near the

ship, at which a sentry had fired. A boat was lowered and soon came

back, bringing in it a sailor who had deserted from the "Madagascar,"

and reached the "Constitution" by swimming. Capt. Hull asked the

fellow his nationality.

"Sure, O'im a 'Merricun, your honor," he answered in a rich brogue

that would have branded him as a Paddy in any part of the world. With

a twinkle in his eye, Hull sent the Irishman below, and told the

sailors to take good care of him.

Early in the morning, a boat came from the "Madagascar;" and a trim

young lieutenant, clambering aboard the American frigate, politely

requested that the deserter be given up. With great dignity, Capt.

Hull responded that the man was a citizen of the United States, and

should have protection. The visiting officer fairly gasped for breath.

"An American!" he exclaimed. "Why, the man has never been out of

Ireland except on a British man-of-war."

"Indeed!" responded Hull blandly. "But we have his statement that he

is an American, and we are obliged to take his declaration to that

effect." And the man was never given up.

During the day, two British frigates cast anchor so near the

"Constitution" that Capt. Hull suspected them of hostile intentions,

and moved his ship to a new anchorage. A frigate followed closely in

her wake. At eight in the evening, Capt. Hull determined to meet the

show of force with force. The drums beat, and the men were called to

quarters. The battle-lanterns were lighted fore and aft. The tops were

crowded with sailors, armed with short carbines, to pick off the men

on the enemy's decks. Along the gun-deck stood the men at the guns;

and an officer, describing the scene, says they took hold of the ropes

as if they were about to jerk the guns through the ship's sides. All

were enthusiastic over the prospect of the coming action.

"Now, then, my lads," said an officer to a group of sailors, "if a

fight comes of this, it will be in the cause of you sailors; and I

expect you to fight like men."

"Ay, ay, sir," was the response. "Let the quarter-deck look out for

the colors, and we'll keep the guns going."

All the preparations for battle were made openly, and the attitude

taken by the "Constitution" was an open challenge. No notice of it was

taken by the British ship; and, after maintaining her hostile attitude

for some time, the "Constitution" hoisted her anchor, and left the

harbor.

The time of the formal declaration of war was now rapidly approaching.

The long diplomatic correspondence between the two nations had failed

to lead to any amicable solution of the difficulties that were fast

urging them to war. Great Britain still adhered to her doctrine that a

man once an Englishman was always an English subject. No action of

his own could absolve him from allegiance to the flag under which he

was born. Upon the trade of the United States with France, the English

looked with much the sentiments with which, during our civil war, we

regarded the thriving trade driven with the Confederacy by the British

blockade-runners. Upon these two theories rested the hateful "right of

search" and the custom of impressment.

It is needless to say that the views of the United States on these

questions were exactly contrary to those of the English. Such vital

differences could, then, only be settled by war; and war was

accordingly declared in June, 1812. It was a bold step for the young

nation, but there was enough of plausibility in the English claims to

make it evident that they could never be set aside by diplomacy; and

so, with hardly a thought of the odds against her, the United States

dashed in to win justice at the muzzles of her cannon.

That the odds were tremendous, is not to be denied. Of the military

strength of the two nations, it is not the purpose of this book to

treat. Indeed, a recountal of the land battles of the war of 1812

would hardly be pleasant reading for Americans. It was on the sea that

our laurels were chiefly won. Yet, at the time of the declaration of

war, the navy of the United States consisted of twenty vessels, of

which the largest carried forty-four guns, and the majority rated

under thirty. For years this navy had been a butt of ridicule for all

the European naval powers. The frigate "Constitution" was scornfully

termed by an English newspaper "a bunch of pine boards sailing under a

bit of striped bunting." Not long after the publication of this

insolent jeer, the "Constitution" sailed into an American port with a

captured British frigate in tow. Right merrily then did the Americans

boast of their "bunch of pine boards."

This miniature navy of the United States was about to be pitted

against the greatest naval power of the world. The rolls of the navy

of Great Britain bore at this time the names of over one thousand

ships. Of these, no less than two hundred and fifty-four were

ships-of-the-line, mounting over seventy-four guns each. Behind this

great navy were the memories of long years of conquests, of an almost

undisputed supremacy upon the ocean. Small wonder was it, then, that

the British laughed at the idea of the Americans giving battle to

their hitherto unconquered ships.

What, then, was the secret of the success which, as we shall see,

attended the American arms on the sea? The answer is, that men, not

ships, carried the day. Yet Great Britain had the more sailors on her

muster-rolls. True, but they were only too often unwilling slaves.

Instead of enlisting, like free men, they were hunted down like brutes

and forced to enter the service. No sailor was safe from the

press-gang, and even sober citizens were often kidnapped to serve the

'King' on the ocean. From the ships of other nations, from their homes

and from taverns, the unlucky sailors were dragged away. Even in the

streets of populous cities, they were not safe; and it was no uncommon

sight to see pitched battles being fought between the press-gangs and

sailors whom they were trying to capture. Generally, the inhabitants

and landsmen sided with the victims; and a sailor running through the

streets of the town would be given every assistance by people, who

filled with obstacles the path of his pursuers. Could he reach the

water-side, the fugitive would find every boat at his service; while

his pursuers, on coming up, found every water-man very busy and very

gruff. But the wonder is, that, with this unjust and repulsive system

of impressments, the British sailors were so loyal, and fought with

the dogged courage that they invariably showed.

In the American navy, on the contrary, the enlistments were voluntary.

The service was popular, and the seamen entered it without the feeling

of outraged liberty inspired by the British system. Officers were

readily obtained from the ranks of the adventurous American

navigators. Officers and men alike often brought into the service

personal memories of British oppression; and this, with their free and

independent spirit, enabled them to wage an unequal war with glorious

results for the supporters of the stars and stripes.

CHAPTER IV.

THE WAR ON THE OCEAN. -- COMMODORE RODGERS'S CRUISE. -- THE

LOSS OF THE "NAUTILUS." -- FIRST SUCCESS FOR THE BRITISH. --

THE ESCAPE OF THE "CONSTITUTION." -- THE "ESSEX" TAKES THE

"ALERT." -- THE "CONSTITUTION AND THE "GUERRIERE."

At the time when the declaration of war was made public, a small

squadron of United States vessels was lying in the port of New York,

under the command of Commodore Rodgers. The warlike tendency of the

popular mind had long been evident, and the captain of every

war-vessel had been for some time making active preparations for

service. Some apprehension was felt in naval circles, lest the small

size of the navy should lead the authorities to lay up the vessels in

port during the continuance of the war. This apprehension was well

founded; for not only had such a course been debated in the cabinet,

but orders had been prepared, directing Commodore Rodgers to hold his

vessels in port. This decision was actively opposed by the officers

of the navy, who felt that, though inconsiderable in numbers, the

United States navy could make a brave fight for the honor of the

nation; and with one accord all protested against the action

contemplated. Two officers, Capt. Bainbridge and Capt. Stewart, went

to Washington and sought an interview with the Secretary of the Navy,

Paul Hamilton, who assured them that the plans of the Government were

well matured and would not be changed. The United States could not

afford, said the secretary, that its few frigates and men-of-war

should be snapped up by the enormous fleets of the British, as would

surely be the case, if they ventured upon the ocean. But it was not

intended to materially reduce the lists of naval officers. The

frigates, with all their loose spars and top-hamper taken down, were

to be anchored at the entrances of the principal harbors of the

country, and operated as stationary batteries.

This prospect was far from agreeable to the two officers. It was

intolerable for them to imagine the graceful frigates, with towering

masts and snowy canvas, reduced to mere shapeless hulks, and left to

guard the entrance of a placid harbor. Finding the secretary

inexorable, they went to the President and put the case before him.

They assured him, that, small though the list of American ships was,

it bore the names of vessels able to cope with any thing of their

class in the British navy. Both officers and seamen were proud of the

service, and burned to strike a blow for its honor. President Madison

seemed much impressed by their representations, and agreed to take the

matter into consideration; and, if it seemed wise, to change the plan.

But, before any definite action was taken by him, war was declared.

Within an hour after he had received news of the declaration of war,

Commodore Rodgers had his squadron under way, and dropped down New

York Bay to the ocean. Under his command were the flag-ship

"President" of forty-four guns, the "Essex" thirty-two, and the

"Hornet" eighteen. In the lower bay these vessels were joined by the

"United States" forty-four, the "Congress" thirty-eight, and the

"Argus" sixteen. On June 21, 1812, three days after the declaration of

war, the whole squadron passed Sandy Hook, and stood out into the

ocean.

It is probable that the remarkable celerity of Commodore Rodgers's

departure was due, in part, to the fear that the authorities would

revive the obnoxious order laying up the ships in port. His chief

object, however, was to overhaul a large fleet of British merchantmen

that had recently left the West Indies, and, according to all

calculations, should have been in the vicinity of New York at that

time. All sail was accordingly crowded upon the ships, and the

squadron set out in hot pursuit.

For two days the monotony of the horizon was broken by no sail; but on

the third a ship was espied in the distance, which was made out to be

an enemy's frigate, after which chase was made by the whole squadron.

A fresh breeze was blowing, and both chase and pursuers were running

free before the wind. As sail after sail was crowded upon the ships,

the smaller vessels, with their lesser expanse of canvas, began to

fall behind; and in a few hours the frigate "President" had gradually

drawn away from the fleet, and was rapidly gaining on the enemy. The

sail had been spied at six o'clock in the morning, and at four P.M.

the flag-ship had come within gunshot of the chase. The wind then

fell; and the chase, being long out of port and light, began to gain

on her heavier adversary. Both vessels now began to prepare for a

little gunnery. On the English vessel, which proved to be the

"Belvidera," thirty-six, the sailors were busily engaged in shifting

long eighteens and carronades to the stern, making a battery of

stern-chasers mounting four guns.

The action was opened by a gun from the bow of the "President,"

sighted and fired by Commodore Rodgers himself; so that this officer

may be said to have fired the first gun of the war. His shot was a

good one, hulling the enemy. A second shot from one of the guns of the

first division broke off the muzzle of one of the "Belvidera's"

stern-chasers; and a third shot, fired by Commodore Rodgers, crashed

into the stern of the chase, killing two men, and wounding several

others. Certainly in their first action the Yankees showed no lack of

skill in gunnery.

The chase was slow in responding to the fire; and although her

commander, Capt. Byron, sighted the guns for the first few discharges

himself, his aim was by no means so good as that of the Americans. The

British showed great energy, however, in defending their ship. Not

content with the stern guns already mounted, they shifted to the stern

ports two long eighteen-pounders on the main deck, and two

thirty-two-pound carronades on the quarter-deck. With these they kept

up a brisk fire, which soon became effective, many shots cutting the

rigging of the "President," while one plunged down upon the deck,

killing a midshipman and two or three men. But the superiority of the

American gunnery was beginning to tell, when, at a critical moment, a

main-deck gun, on the "President," burst with a stunning report; and

the flying fragments killed or wounded sixteen men. The force of the

explosion shattered the forecastle deck. Commodore Rodgers was thrown

high into the air, and, falling heavily on the deck, suffered a

painful fracture of the leg. The crew was at once thrown into

confusion and almost panic. Every gun was looked upon with suspicion.

Encouraged by this confusion, the enemy worked his stern guns with

renewed vigor, and at the same time lightened his ship by cutting away

boats and anchors, and starting fourteen tons of water. Thus

lightened, she began to draw away from the "President;" perceiving

which, the latter ship yawed several times, and let fly full

broadsides at the escaping chase. The shot rattled among the spars of

the "Belvidera," but the nimble topmen quickly repaired all damages;

and the British ship slowly but steadily forged ahead. Seeing no hope

of overtaking her, Rodgers ordered the chase abandoned; and the

American squadron again took up its search for the fleet of British

merchantmen.

But this, the first cruise of the United States navy in the war was

destined to be a disappointment to all concerned. The key-note set by

the affair just related--in which the "President" lost twenty-two men,

and permitted her adversary to escape--was continued throughout the

voyage. Always finding traces of the enemy they were seeking, the

Americans never succeeded in overhauling him. One day great quantities

of orange-peel, cocoanut-shells, and similar fragments of tropical

fruits gave the jackies assurance of the proximity of the long-sought

enemy, and urged them on to renewed energy and watchfulness. Then the

master of an English letter-of-marque, captured by the "Hornet,"

reported that the day before he had passed a fleet of eighty-five

sail, of which four were men-of-war. That night there was no room in

the minds of the sailors for any thoughts other than those of big

prize-money. But their golden dreams were never to be fulfilled; for,

although the chase was continued until within a day's run of the

English Channel, no sight of the Jamaica fleet was ever gained.

Abandoning this chase, the squadron returned to Boston by a Southern

route; and, although constantly in the very highway of commerce, few

sails were sighted. When port was reached, the results of a cruise

that had occupied seventy days amounted only to the capture of one

letter-of-marque, seven merchantmen, and the recapture of one American

ship. But Rodgers heard, that, while he had been scouring the ocean

with such meagre results, events of more importance had occurred

nearer home.

[Illustration: Explosion On The "President."]

The British ship "Belvidera," after her lucky escape from the

"President," had made her way to Halifax, the chief naval station of

Great Britain on the American coast. Her report was the first news of

the declaration of war, for at that day news travelled slowly. Once

alarmed, the British were prompt to act; and in a few days a squadron

left Halifax in search of Commodore Rodgers. The force thus hurriedly

gathered was quite formidable. The "Africa" of sixty-four guns, the

"Shannon," thirty-eight, the "Guerriere," thirty-eight, the

"Belvidera," thirty-six, and the "AEolus," thirty-two, made up the

fleet despatched to chastise the headstrong Americans for their

attempt to dispute with Great Britain the mastery of the ocean. Early

in July, this force made its appearance off New York, and quickly made

captures enough to convince the American merchantmen that a season in

port was preferable to the dangers of the high seas in war-times. To

this same fleet belongs the honor of the first capture of a war-vessel

during the war; for the American brig "Nautilus," fourteen guns, was

suddenly overhauled by the entire fleet, and captured after a plucky

but unavailing attempt at flight.

Fourteen-gun brigs, however, were rather small game for a squadron

like that of the British; and it is probable that His Britannic

Majesty's officers were heartily glad, when, some days, later the

United States frigate "Constitution" hove in sight, under

circumstances which seemed certain to make her an easy prey to the

five British ships.

It was on the 17th of July, 1812, that the "Constitution," after

receiving a new crew at Annapolis, was standing northward under easy

sail on her way to New York. About noon four sails were sighted on the

horizon, and an hour later the appearance of a fifth sail was duly

reported. A careful scrutiny of the strangers convinced Capt. Hull

that they were men-of-war, although their nationality could not be

determined. Night fell before the ships could come within hailing

distance; and, though Hull set private signals, no answer was

returned. When day broke, Hull found himself fairly surrounded by

British frigates. In addition to the squadron which has been described

as leaving Halifax, there was the captured "Nautilus" with her guns

turned against her own nation, and a captured American schooner which

had been likewise pressed into the service. Clearly the "Constitution"

was outnumbered, and nothing was left for her but flight.

The events of that three days' chase are told with great minuteness in

the log-book of the "Constitution" to which many of those on board

have, in later publications, added more interesting personal

reminiscences. When the rising mists showed how completely the

American frigate was hemmed in, hardly a breath of air was stirring.

Although every sail was set on the ship, yet she had not steerage way;

and Hull ordered out the boats, to pull the ship's head around and tow

her out of range of her enemies. At the same time, gangs of sailors

with axes cut away the woodwork about the cabin windows, and mounted

two stern guns in the cabin and one on the upper deck. The enemy, in

the mean time, were keeping up a vigorous fire, but without effect.

Their ships were rapidly gaining, as they were enabled to set the

boats of the whole squadron to towing the two foremost vessels. Hull

saw that some new means of getting ahead must be devised.

Soundings were taken, and the ship found to be in twenty-six fathoms

of water. All the available rope in the ship was then bent on to a

kedge and carried far ahead, when the kedge was lowered to the bottom.

The sailors then shipped their capstan-bars, and tramped about the

capstan, until the ship was dragged up to the kedge, which was then

hoisted and again carried ahead and let fall. This manoeuvre was

repeated several times with marked success; for the "Constitution" was

rapidly drawing away from her pursuers, who could not discover her

means of propulsion. Out of sight of land as they were, the British

did not for some time suspect the true cause of the sudden speed of

the fugitive. When, after long scrutiny through their marine-glasses,

they finally did discover the stratagem, the "Constitution" was far

ahead; and though the pursuers adopted the same device, yet their

awkwardness was so great, that even the superior force they were

enabled to employ did not bring them up to their chase.

While the ships were thus being urged on by towing, kedging, and

occasionally by sweeps, an intermittent fire was kept up by the

British, and responded to by the "Constitution" from her stern ports.

The guns which had been mounted by the Americans in the cabin, they

were soon forced to abandon, as the explosions threatened to blow out

the whole stern frame. With the stern-chasers on the gun-deck,

however, a constant fire was maintained, in the hopes of crippling the

enemy by a lucky shot.

For more than forty-eight hours the chase maintained this aspect of

monotony. A dead calm prevailed the greater part of the time.

Occasionally, light breezes filled the sails, and wafted the ships

ahead for a few minutes; then, dying away, left the sea unruffled,

and the sails flapping idly against the masts. British historians

concur with those of our own country, in saying that the

"Constitution," in seizing the advantages of the breeze, showed far

better seamanship than did her enemies. While the British vessels lay

to, to pick up their boats, the "Constitution" forged ahead, picking

up her boats while under way. Later in the chase, the British totally

abandoned their boats, and, when the American frigate had fairly

escaped them, went about for some days picking up such boats as were

found drifting on the broad ocean.

The morning of the second day of the chase dawned with a light breeze

ruffling the water, and filling out the sails of the ships. Before the

breeze died away, which it did in a few hours, the "Constitution" had

gained on her pursuers so that she led them by more than four miles.

Then the calm again held the ships quiet; and again the Americans saw

their enemies closing in upon them by the aid of sweeps, and towing

with their boats. There was little rest for the crew of the American

frigate. On the gun-deck, about the carriages of the great cannon, lay

such of the men as were not assigned to duty in the boats or at the

capstan. Wearied with the constant strain, they fell asleep as soon as

relieved from active duty; though they knew that from that sleep they

might be awakened to plunge into the fierce excitement of desperate

battle. Exhausted as the men were, their officers were forced to

endure a still more fearful strain. No sleep came to the eyelids of

Capt. Hull, throughout the chase. Now encouraging the men, now

planning a new ruse to deceive the enemy, ever watchful of the

pursuing ships, and ready to take advantage of the slightest breath of

air, Capt. Hull and his able first lieutenant Morris showed such

seamanship as extorted admiration even from the British, who were

being baffled by their nautical skill.

By skilful manoeuvring, the Americans managed to keep to the windward

of their enemies throughout the chase; and to this fact the success of

Capt. Hull's most astute stratagem was due. Ever alert for any sign of

a coming breeze, he saw on the water far to windward that rippling

appearance that betokens the coming of a puff. Hull determined to

utilize it for himself, and, if possible, trick the British so that

they would lose all benefit of the breeze. The clouds that were coming

up to windward seemed to threaten a squall, and driving sheets of

rain were rapidly advancing toward the ship. With great ostentation,

the "Constitution" was made ready for a severe gale. The enemy could

see the nimble sailors taking in sail, and furling all the lighter

canvas. Then the driving rain swept over the ship, and she was shut

out of sight. Immediately all was activity in the tops of the British

frigates. Reefs were rapidly taken in the larger sails, while many

were closely furled. All forsook their course, and steered in

different directions in preparation for the coming squall, which,

indeed, was far less violent than the action of the "Constitution"

seemed to indicate. But the shrewd Yankees on that craft, protected

from spying British eyes by the heavy rain, were now shaking out the

reefs they had just set; and under full sail the ship was soon flying

away towards home. After an hour of driving thunder-shower, the clouds

passed by; and the wall-like edge of the shower could be seen moving

rapidly away before the wind. The tars on the "Constitution" watched

eagerly to see the British fleet appear. Farther and farther receded

the gray curtain, and yet no ships could be seen. "Where are they?"

was the thought of every eager watcher on the deck of the

"Constitution." At last they appeared, so far in the distance as to be

practically out of the chase. Two were even hull down; while one was

barely visible, a mere speck on the horizon.

Though now hopelessly distanced, the British did not give up the

pursuit, but held valiantly on after the American frigate. She had so

long been within their very grasp that it was a bitter disappointment

for them to be balked of their prey. But, as the wind now held, the

American gained on them so rapidly that at last they unwillingly

abandoned the chase; and, disbanding the fleet, each ship set off on

an individual cruise, in the hopes that the enemy which had shown such

ability in flight when overpowered would not deign to fly if

encountered by a single hostile ship. This expectation was fully

realized some weeks later, when the "Constitution" fell in with the

British frigate "Guerriere."

Thus, after a chase of more than sixty-four hours, the "Constitution"

evaded her pursuers, and made her way to Boston. Although they reaped

no glory by their labors, the British did not come out of the chase

altogether empty-handed. As the course of the vessels was along the

New England coast, they were in the direct path of American commerce;

and more than one wretched coaster fell into their clutches. At one

time, a fine, full-rigged ship, flying the stars and stripes, came

within sight; and the British, to lure her to her destruction, hoisted

the American flag over all their vessels. But Hull was a match for

them at strategy; and he promptly set the British colors at his

masthead, and began so vigorous a cannonade that the stranger

concluded that a merchantman had no business in that quarter, even

though the Americans did appear to be rather in the majority.

By his able seamanship in this chase Capt. Hull gained for himself a

national reputation. The newspapers of the day vied with each other in

pointing out the manoeuvres in which he had excelled his enemies,--how

he had picked up his boats while under way, though the enemy were

forced to cut theirs adrift; how he had come out of the chase without

injury, and after parting with only a few gallons of water, though a

less cool-headed commander would have thrown overboard guns,

ammunition, and every thing movable, in the face of so great a danger.

A modest sailor, as well as a skilful one, Capt. Hull showed himself

to be; for, while the popular adulation was at its height, he inserted

a card in the books of the Exchange Coffee-House at Boston, begging

his friends to "make a transfer of a great part of their good wishes

to Lieut. Morris and the other brave officers and crew under his

command, for their very great exertions and prompt attention to orders

while the enemy were in chase."

Leaving the "Constitution" thus snugly in port at Boston, we will turn

aside to follow the fortunes of a ship, which, though belated in

getting out to sea, yet won the honor of capturing the first British

war-vessel taken during the war.

When Commodore Rodgers set sail from New York with his squadron, in

the fruitless pursuit of the fleet of Jamaica men, he left in the

harbor the small frigate "Essex," under the command of Capt. David

Porter. The ship was thoroughly dismantled,--stripped of her rigging,

her hold broken out, and provided neither with armament, ammunition,

nor crew. Her captain, however, was a man of indomitable energy; and

by dint of much hard work, and constant appeals to the authorities at

Washington, he managed to get his ship in order, and leave the harbor

within a fortnight after the departure of the squadron under Rodgers's

command.

The "Essex" was a small frigate, lightly sparred, rating as a

thirty-two-gun ship, but mounting twenty-six guns only, of which six

were twelve-pounders, and the remainder carronades of thirty-two

pounds. A carronade is a short cannon of large calibre, but of very

short range. Capt. Porter protested vigorously against being furnished

with a battery so useless except at close quarters: but his protests

were unheeded; and the "Essex" put to sea, trusting to her ability to

get alongside the enemy, where her carronades would be of some use.

Among the midshipmen who bunked, messed, and skylarked together in the

steerage of the "Essex," was one lad whose name in later days was to

be inscribed on the roll of the greatest naval heroes of history.

David Glasgow Farragut was a child of seven years of age when he was

adopted by Capt. Porter, and began his training for a naval career. In

1810 the boy secured his appointment of midshipman; and now, in 1812,

we find him enrolled among the "young gentlemen" who followed the

fortunes of the "Essex." In those days the midshipmen were often mere

boys. Farragut himself was then but eleven years old. But, boys as

they were, they ordered the hardy old tars about, and strutted the

streets when on shore-leave with all the dignity of veterans.

That the discipline of the "Essex" was of the strictest, and that the

efficiency of her crew was above criticism, we have the testimony of

Farragut himself to prove. "Every day," he writes, "the crew were

exercised at the great guns, small arms, and single stick; and I may

here mention the fact, that I have never been on a ship where the crew

of the old "Essex" was represented, but that I found them to be the

best swordsmen on board. They had been so thoroughly trained as

boarders, that every man was prepared for such an emergency, with his

cutlass as sharp as a razor, a dirk made by the ship's armorer out of

a file, and a pistol."

Hardly were the Highlands of Navesink lost to sight below the horizon,

when Porter began to receive evidences that his cruise was to be a

lucky one. Several brigs were captured, and sent into New York; but

the tars of the "Essex" were beginning to grow weary of small game,

and hoped, each time a sail was sighted, that it might be a British

man-of-war. At last a small squadron hove into sight, the appearance

of which seemed to indicate that the jackies might smell gunpowder to

their hearts content before the next day.

It was late at night when the strange fleet was sighted; and the

"Essex" was soon running down upon them, before a fresh breeze.

Although the moon was out, its light was obscured by dense masses of

cloud, that were driven rapidly across the sky; while over the water

hung a light haze, that made difficult the discovery of objects at any

distance. The "Essex" soon came near enough to the squadron to

ascertain that it was a fleet of British merchantmen and transports

convoyed by a frigate and bomb-vessel. The frigate was at the head of

the line; and the "Essex," carefully concealing her hostile character,

clapped on all sail and pressed forward, in the hopes of bringing on

an action. After passing the hindermost transport, however, the

American ship was hailed by a second transport, which soon suspected

her hostile character and threatened to give the alarm. Instantly the

ports of the "Essex" were knocked out, the guns trained on the enemy,

and the transport was ordered to haul out of the line at once, and

silently, under penalty of being fired into. The defenceless ship

complied, and was at once taken possession of, and the soldiers on

board were transferred to the "Essex." This operation took so much

time, that, by the time it was concluded, day dawned over the ocean;

and the attack upon the British frigate was abandoned.

Again the "Essex" continued her cruise in search of an enemy worthy of

her metal. For two or three days she beat about the ocean in the usual

track of ships, without sighting a single sail. The ship had been so

disguised, that the keenest-eyed lookout would never have taken her

for a ship-of-war. The top-gallant masts were housed, the ports of the

gun-deck closed in, and her usually trim cordage and nicely squared

yards were now set in a way that only the most shiftless of merchant

skippers would tolerate. Not many days passed before the enemy fell

into the trap thus set for him.

When on the 13th of August Capt. Porter learned that a sail to

windward, apparently a British man-of-war, was bearing down upon the

"Essex," he carried his little bit of acting still further. Instead of

the great crowd of agile sailors that spring into the rigging of a

man-of-war, at the order to make sail, only a handful, in obedience to

Porter's orders, awkwardly set on the "Essex" all the sail she would

carry. Two long, heavy cables dragging in the water astern so retarded

the ship, that the stranger, coming down gallantly, thought he had

fallen in with a lumbering old American merchantman, which was making

frantic, but futile, efforts to escape.

Had the British captain been able to look behind the closed ports of

the "Essex," he would have formed a very different idea of the

character of his chase. He would have seen a roomy gun-deck,

glistening with that whiteness seen only on the decks of well-kept

men-of-war. Down either side of the deck stretched a row of heavy

carronades, each with its crew of gunners grouped about the breech,

and each shotted and primed ready for the opening volley. From the

magazine amidships, to the gun-deck, reached a line of stewards,

waiters, and cooks, ready to pass up cartridges; for on a man-of-war,

in action, no one is an idler. Active boys were skurrying about the

deck, barefooted, and stripped to the waist. These were the "powder

monkeys," whose duty it would be, when the action opened, to take the

cartridges from the line of powder-passers and carry it to the guns.

On the spar-deck, only a few sailors and officers were visible to the

enemy; but under the taffrail lay crouched scores of blue-uniformed

jackies, with smooth-faced middies and veteran lieutenants, ready to

spring into the rigging at the word of command, or to swarm over the

side and board the enemy, should the gunwales of the vessels touch.

All this preparation, however, was unknown to the "Englishman," who

came boldly on, doubting nothing that the "Essex" would that day be

added to his list of prizes. As he drew nearer, the American sailors

could see that their foe was much their inferior in size and armament;

and the old tars who had seen service before growled out their

dissatisfaction, that the action should be nothing but a scrimmage

after all. In a few minutes, the bold Britons gave three ringing

cheers, and let fly a broadside at the "Essex." In an instant the

ports of the sham merchantman were knocked out; and, with a warlike

thunder, the heavy carronades hurled their ponderous missiles against

the side of the assailant. The astonished Englishmen replied feebly,

but were quickly driven from their posts by the rapidity of the

American fire; and, in eight minutes after the action was opened, the

British hauled down their flag. The captured ship proved to be the

sloop-of-war "Alert," mounting twenty eighteen-pounder carronades. The

boarding officer found her badly cut up, and seven feet of water in

the hold. The officers were transferred to the "Essex," and the

"Alert" taken in tow. Circumstances, however, forced the Americans to

part in a very few days.

The chief cause which led to the separation of the two vessels was an

incipient mutiny, which was discovered by Midshipman Farragut, and was

only averted by the perfect discipline of the American crew. An

exercise to which the greatest attention was given was the

"fire-drill." When the cry of fire was raised on the ship, every man

seized his cutlass and blanket, and went to quarters as though the

ship were about to go into action. Capt. Porter was accustomed, that

his men might be well prepared for any emergency, to raise this cry of

fire at all hours of the night; and often he caused a slight smoke to

be created in the hold, further to try the nerves of his men. Shortly

after the "Alert" was captured, and while the "Essex" was crowded with

prisoners, some of the captives conspired to seize the ship, and carry

her to England. One night, as Farragut was sleeping in his hammock, a

strange feeling of fear came over him; and he opened his eyes to find

the coxswain of the captain's gig of the "Alert" standing over him

with a pistol in his hand. The boy knew him to be a prisoner, and,

seeing him armed, was convinced that something was wrong. Expecting

every moment to be killed, he lay still in his hammock, until the man

turned on his heel and walked away. Then Farragut slipped out, and ran

to the captain's cabin to report the incident. Porter rushed upon the

berth-deck in an instant. "Fire! fire!" shouted he at the top of his

voice; and in an instant the crew were at their quarters, in perfect

order. The mutineers thought that a bad time for their project, and it

was abandoned. The next day the prisoners were sent on board the

"Alert," and that vessel sent into St. Johns as a cartel.

The capture of the "Alert" reflected no great glory upon the

Americans, for the immense superiority of the "Essex" rendered her

success certain. It is, however, of interest as being the first

capture of a British war-vessel. The action made the honors easy

between the two nations; for while the Americans had the "Alert," the

British were captors of the brig "Nautilus." This equality was not of

long duration, however; for an action soon followed which set all

America wild with exultation.

After her escape from the British fleet, the "Constitution" remained

at Boston only a few days, and then set out on a cruise to the

eastward along the New England coast. Bad luck seemed to follow her,

and she had reached a point off Cape Sable before she made a prize.

Here two or three prizes of little value were taken; and an English

sloop-of-war was forced to relinquish an American brig, which had been

recently captured. Shortly afterwards, a Salem privateer was

overhauled, the captain of which reported an English frigate cruising

in the neighborhood; and Capt. Hull straightway set out to discover

the enemy.

The frigate which had been sighted by the Salem privateer, and for

which Hull was so eagerly seeking, was the "Guerriere," a

thirty-eight-gun ship commanded by Capt. Dacres. With both ship and

captain, Capt. Hull had previously had some little experience. The

"Guerriere" was one of the ships in the squadron from which the

"Constitution" had so narrowly escaped a few weeks before, while Capt.

Dacres was an old acquaintance. A story current at the time relates,

that, before the war, the "Guerriere" and the "Constitution" were

lying in the Delaware; and the two captains, happening to meet at some

entertainment on shore, fell into a discussion over the merits of

their respective navies. Although even then the cloud of war was

rising on the horizon, each was pleasant and good-natured; and the

discussion assumed no more serious form than lively banter.

"Well," said Hull at last, "you may just take good care of that ship

of yours, if ever I catch her in the 'Constitution.'"

Capt. Dacres laughed good-humoredly, and offered to bet a sum of

money, that in the event of a conflict his confident friend would find

himself the loser.

"No," said Hull, "I'll bet no money on it; but I will stake you a hat,

that the 'Constitution' comes out victorious."

"Done," responded Dacres; and the bet was made. War was soon declared;

and, as it happened, the two friends were pitted against each other

early in the hostilities.

It was not long after the American frigate parted from the privateer

when the long-drawn hail of "Sail ho-o-o!" from the lookout aloft

announced the discovery of another vessel. The course of the

"Constitution" was at once shaped toward the stranger. In half an hour

she was made out to be a frigate, and from her actions was evidently

anxious to come alongside the American ship. As more than an hour must

elapse before the ships could come together, Capt. Hull made his

preparations for action with the greatest deliberation. The

top-gallant sails were furled, and the lighter spars lowered to the

deck. Through their glasses, the officers could see the enemy making

similar preparations, and waiting deliberately for the "Constitution"

to come down.

At five o'clock in the afternoon the two ships were rapidly nearing,

and the drums on the American frigate beat to quarters. Then followed

the rush of barefooted men along the deck, as they ran hastily, but in

perfect order, to their stations. As the roll of the drums died away,

the shrill voices of the boyish midshipmen arose, calling off the

quarter-bills, and answered by the gruff responses of the men at their

posts. Every man, from the cook to the captain, knew his place, and

hurried to it. The surgeon, with his assistants, descended to the

cock-pit. The carpenter and his mates made ready their felt-covered

plugs, for stopping holes made by the enemy's shot. The topmen

clambered to their posts in the rigging, led by the midshipmen who

were to command them. The line of powder-passers was formed; and the

powder-monkeys gave up skylarking, and began to look sober at the

thought of the business in hand.

The "Guerriere" was not behindhand in her preparations for action.

Capt. Dacres had suspected the character of the American vessel, from

the first moment she had been sighted. On board the English frigate

was Capt. William B. Orne, a Marblehead sailor who had been captured

by the "Guerriere" some days before. "Capt. Dacres seemed anxious to

ascertain her character," wrote Capt. Orne, shortly after the battle,

"and after looking at her for that purpose, handed me his spy-glass,

requesting me to give him my opinion of the stranger. I soon saw, from

the peculiarity of her sails and her general appearance, that she was

without doubt an American frigate, and communicated the same to Capt.

Dacres. He immediately replied, that he thought she came down too

boldly for an American; but soon after added, 'The better he behaves,

the more credit we shall gain by taking him.'

"The two ships were rapidly approaching each other, when the

'Guerriere' backed her main topsail, and waited for her opponent to

come down and commence the action. He then set an English flag at each

masthead, beat to quarters, and made ready for the fight.

"When the strange frigate came down to within two or three miles

distant, he hauled upon the wind, took in all his light sails, reefed

his topsails, and deliberately prepared for action. It was now about

five in the afternoon, when he filled away and ran down for the

'Guerriere.' At this moment Capt. Dacres said politely to me, 'Capt.

Orne, as I suppose you do not wish to fight against your own

countrymen, you are at liberty to retire below the water-line,' It was

not long after this, before I retired from the quarter-deck to the

cock-pit." It may be well here to supplement Capt. Orne's narrative by

the statement that Capt. Dacres, with a chivalric sense of justice not

common in the British navy of that day, allowed ten American sailors

who had been impressed into his crew to leave their quarters and go

below, that they might not fight against their country. Though an

enemy, he was both gallant and generous.

The action was opened by the "Guerriere" with her weather broadside;

the shot of which all falling short, she wore around, and let fly her

port broadside, sending most of the shot through her enemy's rigging,

though two took effect in the hull. In response to this, the

"Constitution" yawed a little, and fired two or three of her bow-guns;

after which the "Guerriere" again opened with broadsides. In this way

the battle continued for about an hour; the American ship saving her

fire, and responding to the heavy broadsides with an occasional shot.

During this ineffectual firing, the two ships were continually drawing

nearer together, and the gunners on the "Constitution" were becoming

more and more restive under their inaction. Capt. Hull was pacing the

quarter-deck with short, quick steps, trying to look cool, but

inwardly on fire with excitement. As the shot of the enemy began to

take effect, and the impatience of the gunners grew more intense,

Lieut. Morris, the second in command, asked leave to respond with a

broadside.

"Not yet," responded Capt. Hull with cool decision. Some minutes

later, the request was repeated, and met with the same response, while

the captain never ceased his pacing of the deck. When within about

half pistol-shot, another broadside came from the "Guerriere." Then

the smothered excitement in Hull's breast broke out.

"Now, boys, pour it into them!" he shouted at the top of his lungs,

gesticulating with such violence that the tight breeches of his naval

uniform split clear down the side. Lieut. Morris seconded the captain

in cheering on the crew.

"Hull her, boys! Hull her!" he shouted; and the crew, catching up the

cry, made the decks ring with shouts of "Hull her!" as they rapidly

loaded and let fly again.

[Illustration: "Hull Her, Boys!"]

The effect of their first broadside was terrific. Deep down in the

cock-pit of the "Guerriere," Capt. Orne, who had been listening to the

muffled thunder of the cannonade at long range, suddenly "heard a

tremendous explosion from the opposing frigate. The effect of her shot

seemed to make the 'Guerriere' reel and tremble, as though she had

received the shock of an earthquake. Immediately after this, I heard a

tremendous shock on deck, and was told that the mizzen-mast was shot

away. In a few moments afterward, the cock-pit was filled with wounded

men."

Though in his retreat in the cock-pit the captive American could hear

the roar of the cannon, and see the ghastly effects of the flying

missiles, he could form but a small idea of the fury of the conflict

which was raging over his head. Stripped to the waist, and covered

with the stains of powder and of blood, the gunners on the two ships

pulled fiercely at the gun-tackle, and wielded the rammers with

frantic energy; then let fly the death-dealing bolt into the hull of

an enemy only a few yards distant. The ships were broadside to

broadside, when the Englishman's mizzen-mast was shot away, and fell,

throwing the topmen far out into the sea. The force of the great spar

falling upon the deck made a great breach in the quarter of the ship;

and, while the sailors were clearing away the wreck, the

"Constitution" drew slowly ahead, pouring in several destructive

broadsides, and then luffed slowly, until she lay right athwart the

enemy's bow. While in this position, the long bowsprit of the

"Guerriere" stretched far across the quarter-deck of the American

ship, and was soon fouled in the mizzen-rigging of the latter vessel.

Then the two ships swung helplessly around, so that the bow of the

Englishman lay snugly against the port-quarter of the Yankee craft.

Instantly, from the deck of each ship rang out the short, sharp blare

of the bugle, calling away the boarders, who sprang from their guns,

seized their heavy boarding caps and cutlasses, and rushed to the

side. But a heavy sea was rolling and tossing the two frigates, so

that boarding seemed impossible; and, as Dacres saw the crowd of men

ready to receive his boarders, he called them back to the guns.

Although each party stuck to its own ship, the fighting was almost

hand to hand. Pistols were freely used; and from the tops rained down

a ceaseless hail of leaden missiles, one of which wounded Capt. Dacres

slightly. So near to each other were the combatants, that the commands

and the cries of rage and pain could be heard above the deep-toned

thunder of the great guns and the ceaseless rattle of the musketry.

The protruding muzzles of the guns often touched the sides of the

opposing ship; and when the cannon were drawn in for loading, the

sailors on either side thrust muskets and pistols through the ports,

and tried to pick off the enemy at his guns.

While the fight was thus raging, a cry of "Fire!" horrified every one

on the "Constitution." Flames were seen coming from the windows of the

cabin, which lay directly beneath the bow-guns of the "Guerriere." The

fire had been set by the flash from the enemy's cannon, so close were

the two ships together. By the strenuous exertions of the men on duty

in the cabin, the flames were extinguished, and this, the greatest of

all dangers, averted. Shortly after, the gun which had caused the

trouble was disabled by a skilful shot from one of the Yankee's guns.

While the flames in the cabin were being extinguished, the Americans

were making a valiant attempt to board and Lieut. Morris with his own

hands was attempting to lash the two ships together. Abandoning this

attempt, he leaped upon the taffrail, and called upon his men to

follow him. Lieut. Bush of the marines, and Mr. Alwyn, were soon at

the side of the intrepid officer, when, at a sudden volley of musketry

from the British, all three fell back, poor Bush dead, and the two

others badly wounded. The ships then drifted asunder; and the

"Guerriere's" foremast was shot away, and dragged down the main-mast

with it in its fall. The shattered ship now lay a shapeless hulk,

tossing on the waves, but still keeping a British ensign defiantly

flying from the stump of her fallen mizzen-mast.

The "Constitution" drew away, firing continually, and soon secured a

raking position; seeing which, the British hauled down their colors.

Lieut. Read was sent on board the prize, and, on the appearance of

Capt. Dacres, said,--

"Capt. Hull presents his compliments, sir, and wishes to know if you

have struck your flag."

Dacres looked significantly at the shattered masts of his ship, and

responded dryly,--

"Well, I don't know. Our mizzen-mast is gone, our main-mast is gone;

and I think, on the whole, you may say that we have struck our flag."

After looking about the ship, the boarding officer stepped to the

side, to return to his own vessel. Before leaving, he said to Capt.

Dacres,--

"Would you like the assistance of a surgeon, or surgeon's mate, in

caring for your wounded?"

Dacres looked surprised, and responded,--

"Well, I should suppose you had on board your own ship business enough

for all your medical officers."

"Oh, no!" answered Read. "We have only seven wounded, and they have

been dressed long ago."

Dacres was astounded, as well he might be; for on the decks of his

ship lay twenty-three dead or mortally wounded men, while the surgeons

were doing their best to alleviate the sufferings of fifty-six

wounded, among whom were several officers. Indeed, the ship looked

like a charnel-house. When Capt. Orne, freed by the result of the

battle, came on deck, he saw a sight that he thus describes: "At

about half-past seven o'clock, I went on deck, and there beheld a

scene which it would be difficult to describe. All the 'Guerriere's'

masts were shot away; and, as she had no sails to steady her, she was

rolling like a log in the trough of the sea. Many of the men were

employed in throwing the dead overboard The decks were covered with

blood, and had the appearance of a ship's slaughter-house. The

gun-tackles were not made fast; and several of the guns got loose, and

were surging from one side to the other. Some of the petty officers

and seamen got liquor, and were intoxicated; and what with the groans

of the wounded, the noise and confusion of the enraged survivors on

board of the ill-fated ship, rendered the whole scene a perfect hell."

For some time after the "Guerriere" had been formally taken possession

of, it seemed as though the "Constitution" would have to fight a

second battle, to keep possession of her prize. A strange sail was

seen upon the horizon, bearing down upon the "Constitution" in a way

that seemed to threaten hostilities. Again the drums beat to quarters,

and once again the tired crew went to their stations at the guns. But

the strange ship sheered off, and the gallant crew were not forced to

fight a second battle. All hands then set to work to remove the

prisoners from the "Guerriere," which was evidently in a sinking

condition.

In the first boat-load from the sinking ship came Capt. Dacres, who

was politely shown into Capt. Hull's cabin. Unclasping his sword from

its place at his hip, the conquered seaman handed it silently to Capt.

Hull. The victor put it gently back, saying,--

"No, no, captain: I'll not take a sword from one who knows so well how

to use it. But I will trouble you for that hat."

For a moment a shade of perplexity passed over the brow of the British

captain; then he recollected the wager of a year or two before, and

all was clear again. Unfortunately, the veracious chronicler who has

handed this anecdote down to modern times has failed to state whether

the debt was duly paid.

After some hours of hard work with the boats, the last of the

prisoners, with their effects, were brought on board the

"Constitution." Torches were then set to the abandoned frigate; and

the sailors watched her blaze, until the fire reached her magazine,

and she vanished in the midst of a tremendous explosion. Then,

leaving behind her the floating mass of ruin, the "Constitution"

headed for Boston, where she arrived after a few days of sailing.

Great was the excitement and exultation aroused among the people by

the arrival of the noble ship with her prisoners. She had, indeed,

come at a time when the public mind required cheering; for from the

interior came the reports of British successes by land, along the

Canadian frontier about Detroit, and for weeks the papers had been

unable to record any success for the American arms. But the report of

the engagement with the "Guerriere" changed wholly the tide of popular

feeling. Boston--the city which at the declaration of war had hung its

flags at half-mast, in token of mourning and humiliation--Boston

welcomed the conquerors with an ovation like to a triumph in the days

of imperial Rome.

When the ship came up the harbor, she was met and surrounded by a

great flotilla of gayly decorated boats; while the flags on the

surrounding vessels were dipped in salutation as the war-scarred

veteran made her stately way to the wharf. Here a volunteer artillery

company was assembled; and, as the ship came up, they fired a national

salute, which was returned from the guns so lately employed in

defending the national honor. Quarters had been prepared for Capt.

Hull in the city; and, as he landed, he found the streets through

which he must pass decked with bright bunting, and crowded with

people. His progress was accompanied by a great wave of cheers; for,

as the people saw him coming, they set up a shout, which was not ended

until he had passed from sight. At night came a grand banquet to the

officers of the ship, at which six hundred sat down to the feast. The

freedom of the city was presented to the captain; and at a later date

came the news of sword presentations from citizens of New York, plate

from the people of Philadelphia, and gold medals from Congress. Amid

all the exultation, the rash arrogance of the British writers was not

forgotten; and many a bumper was emptied to the success of the frigate

described by British journalists as "a bunch of pine boards under a

bit of striped bunting."

CHAPTER V.

AN INTERNATIONAL DEBATE. -- THE "WASP" AND THE "FROLIC." --

THE "UNITED STATES" AND THE "MACEDONIAN." -- OVATIONS TO THE

VICTORS.

The rejoicing over the success of the "Constitution" had not died away

in the United States when the English newspapers began to appear with

elaborate articles, showing just why the battle had terminated as it

did. "The 'Constitution' is the crack frigate of the American navy,"

cried the apologists; but to this the Americans retorted by quoting

the British description of the ship as "a bunch of pine boards." The

"Guerriere" was an "old worn-out frigate," responded the English,

returning to the charge. "She was on her way to Halifax to refit, when

attacked." Again they were refuted by their own statements; for, but a

month before, the "Guerriere" was said to be "able to drive the

insolent striped bunting from the seas." Throughout the discussion,

the shrewdness of the Americans enabled them to meet the arguments of

the British at every point; but not until the charge was made, that

the "Constitution" was chiefly manned by British sailors, did the

people become thoroughly in earnest in the war of words.

Such a charge as this was adding insult to injury. Was not the British

navy full of Americans who were forced against their will to serve

against their own country, while the few Englishmen on the

"Constitution" were enlisted with their own consent? For Capt. Dacres

to say that his ship was weakened by allowing the ten Americans to go

below, and then beaten by the efforts of the Englishmen on the

"Constitution," was merely tantamount to saying that the victory

hinged on the fact that Americans would not fight against their own

country, while Englishmen did so willingly. But for Great Britain to

exclaim against the American navy because it harbored a few

Englishmen, was the rankest hypocrisy. So said the American

journalists of the day; and, in support of their statement, they

printed long letters from American seamen impressed into and held in

the British naval service. One writes that he was impressed into his

British Majesty's ship "Peacock," in 1810, and after serving two years

he heard of the declaration of war. After a consultation with two

fellow-seamen, both Americans, all decided to refuse to serve longer,

claiming to be prisoners of war. But the captain under whom they were

enrolled looked upon the matter in a different light. He heard their

claim, pronounced it a bit of "confounded insolence," and straightway

ordered that they be put in irons. After some hours for meditation in

"the brig," the three sailors were taken to the gangway, stripped

naked, and tied up, while a sturdy boatswain's mate laid on a dozen

and a half blows of the cat. Later, when the ship went into action

with a United States vessel, the three sailors asked to be sent below,

that they might not fight against their own countrymen; but the

captain's sole response was to call up a midshipman, and order him to

do his duty. This duty proved to consist in standing over the three

malcontents with a loaded pistol, threatening to blow out the brains

of the first who should flinch from his work.

Three sailors were impressed after the war had begun. Learning that

the ship on which they found themselves was to cruise upon the

American station, they with one accord refused to serve. The response

to this was "five dozen lashes well laid on." Being still mutinous,

they received four dozen lashes two days later, and after the lapse of

two more days were flogged with two dozen more. But all the beating to

which they were subjected could not compel them to serve against their

country; and they were accordingly ironed and thrown into "the brig,"

where they lay for three months. When released from "the brig," they

found the ship at London. Here they heard of the glorious victory of

the "Constitution," and determined to celebrate it. By ripping up

their clothing into strips, and sewing the strips together, a rude

American flag was made; and with the most astonishing audacity the

three sailors hung this emblem over a gun, and gave three cheers for

the stars and stripes. This naturally brought them another flogging.

Flogging, however, could not always be resorted to in order to bring

American sailors into subjection. It is estimated, that, when war was

declared, there were five times as many American seamen in the British

navy as were in the whole navy of the United States. To attempt to

keep this immense body of disaffected seamen in order by the lash,

would have been impracticable; and soon the custom arose of sending

the more refractory tars into confinement at some English prison.

Dartmoor prison was for a time the principal place of detention for

pressed men; but, as it soon became crowded, it was given over to

prisoners of war, and the hapless seamen were sent to languish in

dismantled ships, known as "hulks." These hulks were generally old

naval vessels, dismasted and stripped of all their fittings. Anchored

midstream in tidal rivers, the rotting hulks tugged at their rusty

chains, as the tide rose and fell, groaning in their bondage, and

seeming as much imprisoned as the wretched sailors by whom they were

tenanted. The captives lived in misery and squalor. Crowded together

in stifling quarters between decks, they were the prey of vermin of

all kinds. Their miserable diet, and lack of proper exercise, caused

the scurvy in its most repulsive forms to break out among them. The

only breath of fresh air they could obtain was when, in gangs, they

were allowed to go on deck, and pace up and down under the watchful

eyes of soldiery; then back to the crowded quarters below, to swelter

in summer or freeze in winter. Such was their punishment for the crime

of being loyal to their country.

[Illustration: Engagement Of The Frigates "United States" And

"Macedonian," Christmas Day, 1812. Copyright, 1892, by C. Klackner]

Careful estimates show that at this time there were at least twenty

thousand American sailors in the British navy, each one of whom was

liable at any moment to be ordered into this inhuman captivity. A

British official document of 1812 reported that 2,548 American seamen

had been imprisoned for refusing to serve against their country.

Hundreds of these were sent to the living death in the hulks. Was it

any wonder that, with such facts, before their eyes, Americans grew

indignant at hearing that the victory of the "Constitution" had been

won by the prowess of British seamen? But before many days had passed,

a victory was recorded for the stars and stripes, which not even the

acuteness of an English naval historian could ascribe to any cause

other than the naval superiority of the victor.

This was the capture, by the United States sloop-of-war "Wasp," of the

British sloop-of-war "Frolic," after a battle ever memorable for the

extraordinary dash and bravery shown by each combatant. In size, the

"Wasp" was one of the inferior vessels of the United States navy. In

her architecture and appointments, however, she was the pride of the

navy, and was often cited as a model ship of her class. Her armament

consisted of sixteen thirty-two-pounder carronades, and two "long

twelves."

When the war broke out, the "Wasp" had just left the coast of Europe,

bearing despatches from the foreign diplomatic representatives of the

United States to the Government. It was accordingly near the middle of

October before the sloop had been refitted, and, with a crew of one

hundred and thirty-five men, left the Delaware, on her first cruise

against the English. Her commander was Capt. Jacob Jones, who had

served in the war with Tripoli, and had himself been a captive among

the barbarians of Northern Africa.

After a few days' cruising, with one or two unimportant captures, a

bunch of sails was sighted at some distance. The most careful

examination failed to reveal the character of the strangers, and Jones

determined to run down cautiously toward the squadron, to reconnoitre.

The wind was blowing fiercely at the time, and a heavy sea was

running, from the effects of a gale of the day before, in which the

"Wasp" lost her jib-boom, together with two sailors who were upon it.

As the vessel bore down upon the strangers, Jones could see through

his marine glasses that they were a convoy of merchantmen, under the

protection of a British sloop-of-war. The merchantmen were evidently

armed, and some seemed to carry as many as twelve guns. Deeming it

unwise to attack at that moment, Capt. Jones kept on a course parallel

with that of the enemy, during the remainder of that day and through

the night. With the break of day, every officer of the "Wasp" was on

deck, and all eyes were turned towards the quarter in which the

Englishmen should be found. There, sure enough, they were. Six

merchant ships and a bluff little brig, the port-holes in the sides of

which showed her to be a war-vessel rating as a sloop. Signs of

activity on board made it evident that the Englishmen had caught sight

of the vessel which had been dogging them for the last day, and were

making ready to give her battle. The British, too, had suffered in the

gale, and the sailors could be seen shipping a new main-yard, and

setting new topsails. On the "Wasp," the jackies were hard at work,

getting in a spar to take the place of the jib-boom, which had been

lost in the storm. Both ships were under short canvas, for the wind

was still high. Instead of the English ensign, a Spanish flag

fluttered from the halliards of the Englishman,--an unnecessary ruse

to draw on an adversary already seeking a conflict.

[Illustration: Loading.]

It was half-past eleven in the morning when the action began. The day

was an ideal October morning at sea,--cool, clear, and a breeze

blowing fresh and constantly stiffening. The two vessels were running

on the starboard tack, not sixty yards apart. As they ploughed

through the waves, great clouds of spray dashed over the bows; and

every now and then a wave would sweep over the forecastle, drenching

the jackies as they stood at their quarters. As they sped along, the

two ships exchanged broadsides, the "Frolic" firing three to the

"Wasp's" two. After every broadside, the gunners cheered as they saw

the damage done by their fire. When the state of the sea is

considered, it seems marvellous that the broadsides should have done

any execution whatever. The vessels were rolling terribly, now

wallowing in the trough of the sea, and again tossed high on the crest

of some enormous wave. At one instant the muzzles of the guns would be

pointed toward the skies, then actually submerged under the waves,

from which they rose dripping, to be loaded and fired before another

dip should soak the charge. Yet, with all this rolling to spoil their

aim, the gunners of both ships pointed their pieces with most

destructive effect. Within five minutes from the time of opening fire,

the main topmast of the "Wasp" was shot away, and hung tangled in the

rigging, despite the active efforts of the topmen, headed by the

nimble midshipmen, to clear away the wreck. This greatly hampered the

movements of the American vessel; and when, a few minutes later, the

gaff and the main top-gallant mast fell, the chances of the American

ship seemed poor indeed. The effects of the "Wasp's" fire were chiefly

to be seen in the hull of her antagonist; but the first twenty minutes

of the fight seemed to give the Englishman every chance of victory,

since his fire had so cut away the rigging of the "Wasp" that she

became unmanageable. It is said that the difference between the

execution done by the two batteries was due to the fact that the

British fired as their ship was rising on the crest of the wave, while

the Americans fired from the trough of the sea, sending their shot

into the hull of the enemy.

While the fight was raging, the two ships were constantly drawing

nearer together; and just as it seemed as though the destruction

wrought in the "Wasp's" rigging would inevitably lead to her defeat,

the two vessels fouled. For an instant they lay yard-arm to yard-arm,

and at that very moment the American gunners poured in a terrific

broadside. So close were the two vessels to each other, that, in

loading, the rammers were shoved up against the sides of the "Frolic."

Before the gunners of the "Frolic" could respond to this broadside,

their ship swung round so that her bow lay against the "Wasp's"

quarter; and her bowsprit passed over the heads of Capt. Jones and

his officers as they stood on the quarter-deck. That was the moment

for a raking volley; and with deadly aim the Americans poured it in,

and the heavy iron bolts swept the decks of the "Frolic" from stem to

stern.

This turn in the tide of battle fairly crazed with excitement the

sailors of the "Wasp." With ringing cheers they applauded the success

of the last volley, and, springing into the hammock-nettings, called

loudly for their officers to lead them on board the English ship. From

the quarter-deck, Capt. Jones, with shouts and gestures, strove to

hold back the excited men until another broadside could be given the

enemy. But the enthusiasm of the sailors was beyond all control. All

at once, they saw a sailor from New Jersey, named Jack Lang, spring on

a gun, cutlass in hand, ready to board. All were about to follow him,

when Capt. Jones called him down. Only for a minute did Jack's sense

of duty overcome his enthusiasm; and then, remembering that he had

once been impressed on the "Frolic," his rage blazed up, and in an

instant he was clambering over the nettings, calling for followers.

Capt. Jones saw that the ardor of his crew was beyond his control, and

ordered the bugler to call away the boarders. Headed by their

officers, the bold tars swarmed over the nettings, and through the

tangled rigging, to the deck of the enemy's ship. Each man clutched

his cutlass viciously, for he felt that a desperate conflict was

imminent. But when they dropped upon the deck of the "Frolic," a most

unexpected spectacle met their eyes.