Chapter II: Act II: On the Ocean

SCENE I. THE FIGHT WITH THE GUERRIERE

At last the day has come. Long and eagerly awaited has it been by American seamen. A tall-sparred frigate plows through the purple waters of the Gulf Stream. From her mastheads lookouts report a tiny speck upon the clear horizon. Sharp eyes distinguish it from the far-distant masses of cumulous clouds it counterfeits so well. Larger and larger it grows. It becomes, in fact, another frigate, equally large and beautiful. Across one of her topsails is painted a cryptic phrase, “Not the Little Belt.” This may have little meaning to us today. But in the year of our Lord 1812 it was full of grim significance. From her peak flutters a white ensign, barred with red, the proud emblem of the Royal Navy.

On the first ship there is a muffled roll of drums, a brief hurrying of men about the decks, a period of well-ordered activity—then quiet. “Silent is the path of duty for every well-drilled man.” Up to her mastheads creep balls of bunting. These at a quiet word of command break out into strips of red and white, stars of white against a blue field—battle ensigns of the United States. _Constitution_ and _Guerriere_ have met. A great moment of history is at hand.

The famous duel between these two frigates cannot, of course, be compared to the many sea battles between great fleets which have made naval history. But often small events have a far-reaching influence. This fight certainly was one of the most important and decisive single ship actions ever fought.

To show why this was so we must set the scene before we begin the play. To Great Britain, engaged in a death struggle with Napoleon, our little war was nothing more than a side show—of even less importance than the entry of a Balkan nation into the World War struggle. The chief concern of the British statesmen was that it might interfere with the supply of Wellington’s army in Spain—a task performed almost exclusively by American merchant vessels. It never occurred to them that our frigates would put to sea, or, if they should, that they could last long against the British cruisers which literally covered the Seven Seas. Theodore Roosevelt has stated that during the previous twenty years the Royal Navy had fought two hundred single-ship actions where there was approximate equality in power, i.e., neither ship had a superiority of over three to two. In these actions only five British ships had been captured. With such a record of success, it was only natural that the British captains should give scant consideration to our young and comparatively inexperienced Navy.

It is true that the _Constitution_ was about 7 per cent larger than the _Guerriere_; that she carried 24-pounder guns against the 18-pounders in the British frigate, thus giving us a ten to seven superiority in weight of metal; and that her sides were very thick, stouter in fact than those of a British ship-of-the-line. But the British captains showed not the slightest concern over these American advantages, which at that time were not considered as such. In fact, it was thought that we had overweighted our ships with guns and timbers so that their speed and handiness were decreased. Captain Dacres of the _Guerriere_ had challenged any American frigate to meet him in single combat. He had bet Captain Isaac Hull, so the story goes, a perfectly good hat that he would beat the _Constitution_. Even after the fight Dacres said he would be happy to fight him again with “a frigate of similar force to the _Guerriere_.” All the propaganda of our frigates being disguised ships-of-the-line was a much later concoction, disseminated after we had proved in three battles the advantage of our heavier guns and thicker sides, as well as the efficiency of our officers and sailors.

But now let the fight begin. For some hours the _Guerriere_ kept away, trying to gain some advantage. But at 6:00 P.M. Dacres decided to end this useless maneuvering and get to business. He headed directly before the wind, decreased sail, and waited for the American frigate. Hull, increasing his sail power, came swiftly down upon him. Zero hour was about to strike. What could Yankee seamen do against the might of Britannia?

Moses Smith, sponger of No. 1 gun, describes how the _Constitution_ went into action. “Hull was now all animation. He saw that the decisive moment had come. With great energy, yet calmness of manner, he passed around among the officers and men, addressing to them words of confidence and encouragement. ‘Men,’ said he, ‘now do your duty. Your officers cannot have entire control over you now. Each man must do all in his power for his country.’ The Stars and Stripes never floated more proudly than they did at that moment. All was silent beneath them, save the occasional order from an officer, or the low sound of the movement of our implements of war. _Every man stood firm to his post._”

By 6:05 the Constitution was two hundred yards on the _Guerriere’s_ port quarter. Hull then yawed his ship’s head slightly away from the enemy and threw his broadside full upon her. As the guns bore on the target they fired in rapid succession. “We instantly followed the thunder of our cannon with three loud cheers, which rang along the ship like the roar of waters, and floated away rapidly to the ears of the enemy.”

The cannonading was terrific. Our gunners, in the heat of battle, looked well to their aim. By 6:20 the _Constitution_ was abreast the British frigate, distant one hundred yards. Then with a splintering crash came down Dacres’ mizzenmast. “Huzza, boys! We’ve made a brig of her!” The mast, with its tangle of sails and rigging, dragged in the water and checked the _Guerriere’s_ headway. Here was Hull’s chance, and he was not the man to miss it. Spinning his wheel to the right, he charged across his enemy’s bow. Those terrible 24’s raked her with great effect. As the _Constitution_ shot past and her guns would no longer bear there was a brief lull in the fight. Seaman Daniel Hogan climbed to the dizzy height of the fore truck to replace the battle ensign which had been shot away.

Hull wore his ship and again headed across the bow of the almost unmanageable _Guerriere_. His gunners had moved across the deck and cast loose the port guns. Again they raked the British frigate. But this time Hull had come a bit too close. The ships came together. Boarders were called away. A storm of musketry broke out. Sharpshooters in the tops fired down on the crowded decks. Lieutenant William Bush of the Marines fell dead. Lieutenant Charles Morris, who first had scaled the _Philadelphia’s_ side, was severely wounded. So also was Sailing Master John Aylwin, a brave and skillful officer. At 6:30 the ships came clear. And then the _Guerriere’s_ foremasts and mainmasts plunged over her side. Twenty-five minutes had sufficed for Yankee gunners to dismast a British frigate.

Seeing that the fight was won, Hull hauled off to repair his rigging. He must be prepared for another enemy if one should appear. At 7:00 he returned to receive the surrender of Captain Dacres. The prize was so completely wrecked that there was no hope of bringing her into port. After her crew had been taken off, she was set on fire. From the _Constitution’s_ quarter-deck Captain Dacres watched. At length her magazine exploded and she disappeared beneath the waters. A sad omen it must have seemed to the British captain. A new sea power had arrived!

That this was fully appreciated is shown by an article in the London _Times_. “It is not merely that an English frigate has been taken, after, what we are free to confess may be called a brave resistance, but that it has been taken by a new enemy, an enemy unaccustomed to such triumphs, and likely to be rendered insolent and confident by them. He must be a weak politician who does not see how important the first triumph is in giving a tone and character to the war. Never before in the history of the world did an English frigate strike to an American.”

In our country the effect was magical. Where before political strife, sectional differences, and commercial rivalries combined to bring our people to the verge of civil war and secession, now a wave of wildest enthusiasm spread like a forest fire. For here was a deed of which every man and woman from Maine to Louisiana might be proud. “Thank God for Hull’s victory” was a watchword which passed from state to state. It gave impetus to naval operations and fired our captains with impatience to get to sea and bring the enemy under their guns. It encouraged swarms of privateers to cover the Seven Seas and attack the enemy’s vital trade routes.

Admiral Sir John Jervis is reported to have said to his flag captain as he sighted the Spanish fleet off Cape St. Vincent that a victory was very necessary to England at that moment. With equal justice Isaac Hull might have made a similar remark on sighting the _Guerriere_. Our country needed a victory then as it never had before nor has since. Napoleon said that in war the moral is to the physical as three to one; in this case it was many times more. The mere sinking of a frigate meant nothing to England. But the fact that it was sunk by an American frigate at the cost of only fourteen casualties meant a great deal to England, and to our United States. What had been done once could be done again!

SCENE II. AND NOW FOR THE “JAVA”

While the _Constitution_ was taking a little rest in Boston Stephen Decatur in the sister-ship _United States_ had taken the sea. In the latter part of October he encountered the British frigate _Macedonian_, likewise a sister-ship of the _Guerriere_. So the scene was set exactly as in the previous battle. But, whereas Hull had decided the issue by sheer overpowering force at point-blank range, Decatur fought a distant battle in an effort to capitalize to the full his superiority in gunnery and seamanship. He won his fight at the cost of only eleven casualties. In ninety minutes his gunners had put a hundred shot into the _Macedonian’s_ hull and killed or wounded one hundred and four of her crew. This time the prize was brought safely into port. Here was a convincing confirmation of American naval efficiency.

By the time this fight had been won the _Constitution_ was again at sea. This time she was commanded by William Bainbridge, the unlucky officer who had lost the _Philadelphia_ off Tripoli. But now he was in a luckier ship. Soon fortune sent a fine British frigate into his arms. This happened on December 29 off Bahia on the coast of Brazil.

The _Java_ was considerably more powerful than the other British frigates previously captured. She was commanded by an excellent officer, Captain Lambert. In weight of metal she was inferior to the _Constitution_ only as nine to ten. Neither captain had any idea of dodging the issue. Each made ready to fight to the finish. Fighting topsails were spread. Battle ensigns decorated every masthead. At 2:10 P.M. the battle began. At first the range was long. But in a few minutes the ships were in to two hundred yards. Then the real business of the day began. It was as finely contested a frigate action as ever was fought. Both Bainbridge and Lambert maneuvered their ships with masterly skill. First one ship would gain an advantageous position, then the other. Like two skilled wrestlers, each in turn gained a hold, only to have it broken by his opponent.

All this time the guns’ crews were fast at work, rushing from one battery to the other as their captains tacked and wore. It was work, hard and grim—hauling at the gun tackles, ramming home powder and shot, and slewing around the clumsy gun carriages to point the guns squarely at the enemy. Acrid smoke clouds swept along the decks and clouds of splinters flew around.

For a time the action is very closely fought. But, barring a lucky accident, the issue is really never in doubt. For Yankee gunners are incomparable and they have _iron sides_ to protect them—twenty inches of stout oak beams. They cannot be beaten in such a ship. Slowly but surely our superiority in gunnery wears down the enemy. One after another the _Java’s_ tall spars crash down. Heroic Lambert fights well but is killed. Lieutenant Chads, already wounded, takes command. Half his crew is killed or wounded. Still he fights.

The _Constitution_ also has her losses. Bainbridge himself is severely wounded, but he still keeps the deck. Brave Aylwin, who already wears a wound stripe for the _Guerriere_ battle, is again shot down. This will be the last fight for him. Well, he will live long enough to see a second British frigate lower her battle flags. Over thirty others lie dead or wounded about the decks or under the surgeon’s knife in the cockpit. British frigates cannot be taken without losing men.

For two long hours the battle rages. Chads does well but he cannot do the impossible. Finally the _Java_ must give in. Here is a fight in which there is honor enough for all, vanquished as well as victor. And Bainbridge, after such buffets of fate as few have received, at last has won his well-deserved victory. A third British frigate had been taken.

When “Old Ironsides” reached Boston a great reception awaited the commodore. There he marched through the streets, arm in arm with Rodgers and Hull—three commodores of whom any country might be proud. Fifes and drums played _Yankee-Doodle_ as the procession moved through the streets. It was a big Navy Day!

SCENE III. THE LAST FIGHT

The _Constitution_ took a long rest after this battle. The _Java’s_ shot had discovered some rotten spots in her sides. A long overhaul was required to make her again ready for sea. Meanwhile the Navy had won many a victory and had suffered some defeats. Our little sloops-of-war won a long succession of splendid successes. Gallant James Lawrence, hero of the _Hornet-Peacock_ fight, lost the _Chesapeake_ to the British frigate _Shannon_—crying, as he lay dying, “Don’t give up the ship!” Sewing this motto on his blue battle flag Perry annihilated the British squadron on Lake Erie. Macdonough saved the northern frontier with a complete victory on Lake Champlain, which a British marine thought more desperately fought than Trafalgar. Our privateers were gathering in their prizes on every sea in constantly increasing numbers and sending the insurance rates three times higher than all previous levels.

But the war could not well end without a third victory by the _Constitution_. Now she was commanded by Charles Stewart, a worthy successor to Hull and Bainbridge. On February 20, 1815, north of Madeira, the American frigate came in contact with the British corvette _Cyane_, thirty-four guns, and the sloop _Levant_, twenty-one. Their fifty-five guns threw a slightly heavier weight of metal, but their armament consisted mostly of short-range carronades which could not be compared with the terrible long 24’s which filled the _Constitution’s_ gun-deck ports. Still the two Britons formed column and accepted Stewart’s challenge.

Stewart might have fought at long range where the British carronades could not have reached him. But night was coming on, and, if he were to take both ships, there was no time to waste. “At five minutes past six,” he wrote, “ranged up on the starboard side of the sternmost ship, about three hundred yards distant, and commenced the action by broadsides, both ships returning our fire with the greatest spirit for about fifteen minutes.” Stewart’s tactics have a lesson: When you are anxious to engage and night is approaching, do not try to get all the conditions in your favor. Take things as they are and fight in the most decisive manner. Otherwise you will never capture your _Cyane_ and _Levant_. Perhaps we have here a lesson for the battles of peace as well as those of war.

After this first engagement smoke clouds obscured the range and fire ceased. But not for long, for now the _Constitution_ began a series of beautiful maneuvers—raking each enemy ship in turn. They separated and made off. Stewart hung close to the _Cyane_ and soon forced her to surrender. By eight o’clock she had been manned by a prize crew. Stewart started in search of the _Levant_.

Captain Douglass of the _Levant_ had now repaired his damages. Instead of trying to escape, he sailed back to assist his comrade. But he was too late. At eight-thirty he ran into the _Constitution_. Attempts to escape proved futile and at ten the second prize was made. “At 1:00 A.M.,” Stewart reported, “the damages to our rigging had been repaired, sails shifted, and the ship in fighting condition.” The price of this double victory was only fifteen casualties.

The _Cyane_ safely reached home. The _Levant_ was recaptured by a British squadron in a neutral port. The _Constitution_ received her last battle triumph in New York many months after peace had been signed. She had fought her last fight. But for many long years she served her country well by showing the flag in every part of the world. After that she trained many classes of midshipmen at the Naval Academy. Now her useful labors are ended but she serves a still more important purpose. For this old hulk, whose iron sides protected iron men, is an inspiration to every officer and man in the naval service—and to every American.