Part 13

Now commenced the usual struggle for the advantage of the weather-gage; but, finding that the _Constitution_ could outpoint them, the British vessels gave up the attempt, and, forming in line about half a cable’s length apart, awaited her on-coming, shortening sail, and evidently preparing some concerted method of attack. At six Stewart shook out his tremendous flag, and the British ensigns climbed up in answer; at the same moment both vessels gave three rousing cheers. But in grim silence the _Constitution_ bore down upon them, ranged up on the starboard side of the sternmost, and let go her broadside at a distance of only three hundred yards. The English replied with spirit, and the cannonading became furious. There being little wind, a great bank of sulphurous smoke, impenetrable as any fog, settled over the water on the _Constitution’s_ lee, and completely hid her antagonists. For three minutes the _Constitution_ ceased her fire altogether (the enemy having slackened also), and then Stewart descried the topmasts of the leader stretching above the rolling clouds abreast of him. He fired his broadside, and again the smoke swallowed her from sight, just as it was seen that the ship astern had luffed to take up a raking position on the larboard quarter. The superior seamanship of the American tars and the quality of the vessel they manned could not be shown better than by the manoeuvre which followed. Stewart braced aback his main and mizzen topsails, and immediately the _Constitution_ gathered sternway and slid backwards through the smoke. What must have been the astonishment of Captain Gordon Falcon, the British commander, when he saw alongside of him the enemy that he had hoped, a few minutes before, to take at such a disadvantage! The foremost vessel, that had received the previous broadside of the _Constitution_, kept pegging away at a spectre in the sulphurous cloud.

At thirty-five minutes past six the enemy’s fire again slackened, and the headmost ship was discovered bearing up. Now the _Constitution_ reversed her tactics, shot ahead, crossed the first vessel’s stern and raked her fearfully, sailed about the stern most and raked her also; then, ranging up within hail on the larboard quarter, she prepared for another broadside, when the last ship fired a lee gun and remained silent. At ten minutes of seven Stewart lowered his boat and took possession of His Majesty’s ship _Cyane_, mounting 34 guns, commanded by Captain Gordon Falcon. The moon had risen by this time; the smoke had cleared away, and it was seen that the other ship was trying her best to get away to a place of safety. Seeing this, at once the _Constitution_ spread all sail in chase, and gallantly the smaller vessel, finding escape impossible, stood back close-hauled to meet her. They crossed on opposite tacks, and the _Constitution_ wore immediately under the enemy’s stern and raked her with a broadside.

Again the Englishman spread all sail, and endeavored to escape by running free. The _Constitution_ broke out her lighter sail in chase, firing well-directed shots from her starboard bowchaser. At ten, seeing she could not escape, the English vessel fired a gun, struck her colors, and yielded.

She proved to be His Majesty’s ship the _Levant_, mounting 21 guns, Captain George Douglass.

Before midnight Stewart had manned both his prizes, repaired his rigging, shifted his sails, and had his vessel in as good condition as before the encounter.

The _Cyane_ was a ship that had made a reputation for herself in the war with France. She was one of the crack sloops of war in the English service. Only a year before she had engaged a French 44-gun frigate, and kept her at bay until help came in the shape of a seventy-four. Her commander was so crestfallen at having to surrender that when he came aboard a prisoner he hardly recognized Stewart’s courteous greetings and compliments.

Down in the cabin of the _Constitution_ a little scene was enacted that must have been dramatic. Captain Douglass and Captain Falcon were treated as honored guests by Captain Stewart, and over their wine at dinner the day after the capture the two Englishmen indulged in a dispute, each placing the responsibility for the defeat upon the other’s shoulders.

Stewart listened without comment for some minutes, and then rising, gravely said, “Gentlemen, there is only one way that I see to decide this question--to put you both on your ships again, give you back your crews, and try it over.”

Either the humor or the force of this remark must have struck each one of his late antagonists, for they ceased their bickering at once.

An anecdote is related showing the spirit of the men on board the _Constitution_ at the time. As she forged down upon the waiting English vessels grog was issued, as was customary, to the crews standing at the guns. An old quartermaster, noting with anger the eagerness of the men to claim a double share, as there were two vessels to fight, walked down the deck and kicked over two buckets of the spirits into the scuppers, exclaiming, “Shame, messmates; we need no Dutch courage on board this ship!”

This little incident, while it might not have dampened the crew’s ardor, may have accounted for the lack of cheers.

It is to be noticed that the weight of shot fired by the British vessels was heavier than the _Constitution’s_ by ninety pounds.

In the action with the _Guerrière_ the _Constitution_ had been hulled three times, and in that with the _Java_ four times. In this engagement thirteen shots reached her hull.

Only one of the prizes was destined to reach the United States--the _Cyane_--and the reason for this makes a separate story in itself.

After the action the vessels set sail for the island St. Jago, and entered the harbor of Porto Praya, having previously touched at one of the Cape Verd Islands.

On the 12th of March, as they lay at anchor under the guns of the neutral battery, three ships were discovered in the offing. Soon they were made out to be frigates, and the _Constitution_ gave signal to get under way. No sooner had this happened than the forts on the shore commenced firing upon the Americans, and the British vessels hoisted the English colors. The _Constitution_ and the _Levant_ were standing on the wind to the southward and eastward, with all three of the enemy in chase. The _Cyane_ bore up to the north, and shaped her course towards the United States. The _Levant_, a much slower sailer than the _Constitution_, kept falling behind, and Stewart saw that it would be foolishness to attempt to close with a force so much superior.

He signalled Lieutenant Ballard, the prize commander of the _Levant_, to make back to the harbor; she came about, made the entrance safely, and anchored in so close to the shore as to run her jib boom over the Portuguese battery; and the latter, as if to show her “neutrality” to the satisfaction of the English, cowardly fired upon her as she lay there, and, despite the fact that Ballard did not reply, but hauled down his flag, the _Acasta_ and the _Newcastle_, two of the pursuers, came in and also fired at her a number of times. But, as if in poetic justice for the action of the Portuguese, they did more harm to the town than to the ship.

When the officer from the British squadron came on board the _Levant_, he advanced briskly to the quarter-deck, and, with no attempt to conceal his eagerness, exclaimed to Lieutenant Ballard, who there awaited him:

“Sir, I believe I have the honor of taking the sword of Captain Blakeley, commander of the American sloop of war the _Wasp_.”

“No, sir,” was the reply; “if you have an excess of pride in this case, you have the honor of receiving the sword of Captain Ballard, prize commander of His British Majesty’s ship the _Levant_.”

It was evident from the crestfallen appearance of the Britisher that he had expected a different reply. To receive the sword of Blakeley would have been a feather in his cap.

A strange state of things existed on board the _Constitution_ as she sailed off to the west. She had on board no fewer than 240 prisoners, and the number of English officers who were unwilling guests was double that of her own. As this was the last cruise of the grand old ship in the second war with Great Britain, a short _résumé_ of her career will be of interest:

Exclusive of the merchant vessels that had been sent back to the United States, in her actions with armed vessels of the English navy she had taken 154 guns, made upwards of 900 prisoners, killed or wounded 298 of the enemy, and the value of the property captured could not be estimated at less than one and a half millions of dollars.

The strange discrepancy which existed between the loss of life on board of her and her antagonists is to be noted. In her action with the _Cyane_ and the _Levant_ she lost 3 killed and 13 wounded, while the killed and wounded on board her opponents, so far as could be ascertained, were 77.

Another interesting fact is that she has been in commission within the last twelve years, and only a few years ago she again breasted the waves, and was towed from the capes of the Delaware to her final resting-place in Massachusetts Bay.

XVIII

THE “HORNET” AND THE “PENGUIN”

[March 23d, 1815]

Lieutenant James Biddle had distinguished himself in the Mediterranean in the war with the Barbary pirates, having been one of the officers captured with Captain Bainbridge on board the _Philadelphia_, and being, with Bainbridge, held prisoner during those historic months of captivity in Tripoli. Biddle was a young man of much determination, and his career as a junior officer was full of adventure and the successful overcoming of hardships. On the outbreak of the war of 1812 he sought every opportunity to be in the thick of it, neglecting no chance to distinguish himself or to add lustre to his name.

In the action between the _Wasp_ and His British Majesty’s sloop of war the _Frolic_, Biddle proved himself to have the proper spirit of a leader, and both he and Captain Jones were honored by Congress and the country after their short sojourn in an English prison; for it must be remembered that the _Wasp_ and her prize were taken, within a few hours after their engagement, by a British seventy-four, the _Poictiers_.

Upon his return to the United States Biddle was promoted to the rank of captain, and at this time Captain James Lawrence, in consequence of his own promotion, had just left the sloop of war _Hornet_, which, under him, had fought so bravely and so fortunately in the southern seas. Captain Biddle asked for the command of the _Hornet_ immediately upon Lawrence’s leaving her--she was then lying in New York Harbor. His request was granted, and orders were given him to join his vessel with the frigate _Chesapeake_, then at Boston nearly ready for a cruise. But he and the brave Lawrence were never to make a voyage in company. News travelled slowly in those days, and young Captain Biddle went on with his preparations, sailing at last without hearing of the sad fate of his superior.

By the capture of the _Chesapeake_, however, all the signals and orders had fallen into the hands of the enemy. Immediately a frigate and several smaller vessels were sent out by the British to intercept the _Hornet_.

Captain Biddle had weighed anchor not alone, however, but in company with the frigates _United States_ and _Macedonian_, going from New York through the Sound, as there was then a large British blockading force off Sandy Hook. The little American squadron was under the command of Commodore Decatur.

On the first day of June, within sight of Montauk Point, the three Yankee vessels were met by a larger and heavier force of the enemy. Decatur put back into the Sound and entered New London Harbor, closely pursued by the British, a ship of the line leading. In this chase the _Hornet_, being deep laden and consequently slow, was nearly overtaken, being fired at by the two headmost ships at quite near range. The American vessels, going through Fisher’s Island Sound, proceeded up the river Thames, and were moored across it, stem to stern, in order the better to defend themselves.

A long and tedious blockade now began, and Biddle’s anxious spirit and courageous disposition fretted under the confinement. It was his first command; he was extremely anxious to measure his strength with an enemy whose force was equal to his own, and he tried again and again to obtain permission to make an attempt to elude the British squadron at the mouth of the river; but in this he failed, Decatur, his senior, forbidding him to risk the venture. For six long months no move was made by either side, although alarms were frequent.

Early in January, 1814, the blockading forces at New London were the _Ramillies_ (74), Commodore Sir Thomas Hardy; the _Endymion_, Captain Hope; and the _Statira_, frigate, Captain Stackpole. There were also one or two smaller armed vessels within call. Upon one occasion an American prisoner of war, who was about to be landed at New London in exchange, was present during a conversation among the English officers, who, tired of acting as jailers, were anxious for a conflict. Upon landing he reported what he had heard to the Americans, and Captain Biddle, under a flag of truce, obtained an interview with Sir Thomas Hardy on board the _Ramillies_. He did his best to secure a meeting between the two frigates _United States_ and the _Macedonian_ on one side, and the _Endymion_ and the _Statira_ on the other.

Sir Thomas, after thinking the matter over, declined the meeting between the _Endymion_ and the _United States_ on account of the difference in force; the captain of the _Statira_ did not wish to try it alone, and so the meeting fell through. And what a strange comment upon the pomp and circumstance of war! Biddle was so anxious himself to fight, and so trusted in the honor of the enemy, that, hearing that a British corvette was shortly to join the station, he would have sailed out through the hostile fleet in the _Hornet_ to meet her all alone. It was the _Loup-Cervier_ that was soon expected to arrive; this vessel had once been the tidy American sloop of war the _Wasp_, and Biddle had been second in command of her. Now, however, she was under a Captain Mends, and flew, instead of the “sailors’ rights,” the cross of St. George. However, after some correspondence, the meeting was given up, much to Biddle’s chagrin, and the rechristened _Loup-Cervier_ sailed out to sea after delivering despatches.

All through the winter a close blockade of New London was kept up, and it was found impossible to make any escape. At last the government ordered the two American frigates to be moved up the Thames as far as possible, and there they were dismantled. The officers and crew were transferred to other cities, while Captain Biddle was ordered to continue at New London for the protection of the shipping. In vain he protested against this hopeless and mortifying situation. The enemy made no serious preparations for trying to take the force up the river, and at last Biddle succeeded in obtaining permission to try to sail through the British fleet. Leaving the _United States_ and the _Macedonian_ protected by land batteries, he placed the _Hornet_ in the best of trim, and on the night of the 18th of November, undiscovered, he drifted past the guard-ships and arrived safely at New York. It was seventeen months since he had been free.

Biddle was immediately attached, with his ship, to the command of Commodore Decatur again, and was ordered for a cruise to the East Indies. The frigate _President_, the flagship of the little squadron, went to sea on the 14th of January, 1815, and from the outset was pursued by the worst of misfortunes, that included shipwreck and final capture. On the 23d of January--not knowing of the loss of the _President_--the _Peacock_, the _Hornet_, and a store-vessel went out to sea in a gale of wind. Three days afterwards they separated, and, hearing of the _President’s_ fate from a merchantman, set out for themselves. Late in March, Biddle anchored near the headlands of Tristan d’Acunha, and on the 23d of the month, off the island, a sail was discovered to the southward and eastward. The _Hornet_, ever on the alert, raised anchor and bore up before the wind. When within five miles Biddle shortened sail and waited for the stranger to come down to him. It is quite amusing to think that the idea that was uppermost in the mind of the British commander (for it was H. M. S. _Penguin_, a heavily armed brig, that the _Hornet_ had sighted) was this: that if the American saw who it was and how formidable was his ship, he would escape. So the Englishman concealed his identity as much as possible by clumsily taking in his sail to encourage Biddle to wait for him, carefully keeping bow on to the _Hornet_ to hide his strength. Biddle, not understanding his intention, and the idea of running away being the last thing in the world for him to think about, was puzzled. He wore ship three times, trying to get the other to haul by the wind and to show his broadside, but without success. As the enemy approached nearly within musket-shot, the Englishman at last hauled on the starboard tack and hoisted his colors, firing a challenging gun. Biddle immediately luffed, flew his ensign, and gave the enemy a broadside. It was then about forty minutes past one. The action became brisk, and in fifteen minutes the Englishman came down again, bow foremost, as if he would fall on board the _Hornet_. Orders were given to prepare to repel the expected boarders, but the men could scarcely be restrained from tumbling over the bow of the _Penguin_ as her jib-boom crossed the _Hornet’s_ taffrail.

There was a considerable swell, the sea lifted the _Hornet_ ahead, and the bowsprit of the enemy (her men had displayed no intention of boarding) carried away the mizzen-shrouds and swept the side. Just then an officer bravely stood upon the bulwarks of the English brig, and at the risk of his life shouted out that he had surrendered. He was Lieutenant McDonald, the _Penguin’s_ first lieutenant. At this moment the enemy was swinging clear, Biddle was prepared to give him another broadside, and with difficulty could he restrain his crew, as the _Penguin_ certainly had fired after Lieutenant McDonald had said he had surrendered. One of the last shots had struck Captain Biddle, wounding him severely in the neck. In fact, throughout the action he was almost unrecognizable, because of wounds which he had received from splinters in his face. Several times his men had asked him to go below.

It was exactly twenty-two minutes from the beginning of the action to the time when the _Penguin_ was boarded by a boat from the _Hornet_. The former vessel proved to be one of the strongest vessels of her class, mounting 16 32-pound carronades, 2 long sixes, and a 12-pound carronade on her topgallant forecastle, with swivels on the capstan and in the tops; she had a spare port forward so as to fire both of her long guns on a side. When she had sailed from England on the 1st of September she was manned by a picked crew, that was afterwards reinforced by marines taken from the _Medway_, a seventy-four. Out of one hundred and thirty-two persons that formed her crew she lost fourteen killed and twenty-eight wounded, among the latter number being her commander, Captain Dickinson. Not a single round shot struck the hull of the _Hornet_, but her sides were filled with grape and her sails and rigging much cut. She had but one man killed and eleven wounded. The _Penguin_ was so badly riddled that she sank, it not being worth the while to attempt to save her. But the _Hornet_, after obtaining a new set of sails, was ready for service without going home for repairs or refitting. The English journals, in commenting on this fact, advocated strongly the adoption of the American system of gunnery instruction, to which a Baltimore paper replied that the only thing they (the British) needed to be taught was “to _shoot_ Yankee fashion--viz., straighter and more often.”

XIX

THE ESCAPE OF THE “HORNET”

[April 29th, 1815]

Although the treaty of peace between England and the United States was concluded at Ghent on November 24th, in the year 1814, hostilities continued even after the _signing_ of the document that took place a month later to a day.

This can be well understood when we stop to think that at the best rates of travelling it would take in the neighborhood of three weeks, or possibly four, for the news to reach the United States.

The battle of New Orleans, so disastrous to the English arms, would never have taken place if there had been such a thing as a cable in those days. Nor would there have occurred several smart actions at sea, including, sad to relate, the capture of the U. S. S. _President_ by a British squadron.

There is no excuse, however, for the long detention of American prisoners in the hands of the British, when there was no longer any chance of their serving against her.

On February 17th President Madison ratified the Treaty of Ghent, and hostilities practically ceased, although, of course, not knowing this fact, Captain Stewart, in command of the _Constitution_, captured the _Cyane_ and the _Levant_, two British sloops of war. And on the 23d of March, on a foreign station, the gallant Captain Biddle, in command of the _Hornet_, captured and sank the _Penguin_.

But even so long past the time when the news might have been expected to be about the world, on April 27th, 1815, off the Island of San Salvador, the sloop of war _Hornet_ had the last hostile experience with the English of that eventful period. The little sloop was sailing in company with the _Peacock_, and together they made a pair of fighters that were not afraid of anything that carried in the neighborhood of their weight of metal.

In a letter from Biddle, the senior captain, to Stephen Decatur appears the following: “The _Peacock_ and this ship, having continued off Tristan d’Acunha the number of days directed by you in your letter of instruction, proceeded in company to the eastward on the twelfth day of April, bound to the second place of rendezvous. Nothing of any importance occurred until the twenty-second day of April at 7 A.M., in latitude 38° 30´ and longitude 33´ east. The wind was from northeast by north and light through the day, and by sundown we had neared the chase considerably. It was calm during the day, and at daylight on the 28th he [Warrington of the _Peacock_] was not in sight. A breeze springing from the northwest, we crowded steering sails on both sides, and the chase was made out standing to the northward upon a wind. At 2.45 P.M. the _Peacock_ was about six miles ahead of this ship, and, observing that she appeared to be suspicious of the chase, I took in starboard steering-sails and hauled up for the _Peacock_. I was still, however, of opinion that the chase was an Indiaman, though, indeed, the atmosphere was quite smoky and indistinct, and I concluded she was very large. Captain Warrington was waiting for me to join him, that we might get together alongside of her. At 3.22 P.M. the _Peacock_ made the signal that the chase was a ship of the line and an enemy. I took in immediately all steering-sails and hauled upon the wind, the enemy being then upon our lee quarter, distant about eight miles. By sundown I had perceived that the enemy sailed remarkably fast and was very weatherly.”

This letter was dated from San Salvador, June 10th, 1815.