Part 3

Hull had kept his sails wet with hose and bucket, in order to hold the wind, and by ten o’clock his crew had started cheering and laughing, for they were slowly drawing ahead; the _Belvidera_ was directly in their wake, distant almost three miles. The other vessels were scattered to leeward, two frigates were on the lee quarter five miles away, and the _Africa_, holding the opposite tack, was hull down on the horizon. The latitude was made out at midday to be 38° 47´ north, and the longitude, by dead reckoning, 73° 57´ west.

The wind freshened in the early afternoon, and, the sails being trimmed and watched closely, Hull’s claim that his old ship was a stepper, if put to it, was verified, for she gained two miles and more upon the pursuers. And now strategy was to come into play. Dark, angry-looking clouds and deeper shadows on the water to windward showed that a sudden squall was approaching. It was plain that rain was falling and would reach the American frigate first. The topmen were hurried aloft, the sheets and tacks and clew-lines manned, and the _Constitution_ held on with all sails set, but with everything ready at the command to be let go. As the rush of wind and rain approached all the light canvas was furled, a reef taken in the mizzen-topsail, and the ship was brought under short sail, as if she expected to be laid on her beam ends. The English vessels astern observed this, and probably expected that a hard blow was going to follow, for they let go and hauled down as they were, without waiting for the wind to reach them. Some of them hove to and began to reef, and they scattered in different directions, as if for safety. But no sooner had the rain shrouded the _Constitution_ than Hull sheeted home, hoisted his fore and main topgallant-sails, and, with the wind boiling the water all about him, he roared away over the sea at a gait of eleven knots.

For an hour the breeze held strong--blowing almost half a gale, in fact--and then it disappeared to leeward. A Yankee cheer broke out in which the officers joined, for the English fleet was far down the wind, and the _Africa_ was barely visible. A few minutes’ more sailing, and the leading frigates were hull below the horizon.

Still they held in chase throughout all the night, signalling each other now and then. At daybreak all fear was over; but the _Constitution_ kept all sail, even after Broke’s squadron gave up and hauled to the northward and eastward.

The small brig that had been counted in the fleet of the pursuers was the _Nautilus_, which had been captured by the English three or four days previously. She was the first vessel lost on either side during the war. She was renowned as having been the vessel commanded by the gallant Somers, who lost his life in the harbor of Tripoli.

Lieutenant Crane, who had command of her when taken by the English, and who saw the whole chase, speaks of the wonder and astonishment of the British officers at the handling of the _Constitution_. They expected to see Hull throw overboard his guns and anchors and stave his boats. This they did themselves in a measure, as they cut adrift many of their cutters--and spent some time afterwards in picking them up--by the same token. Nothing had been done to lighten the _Constitution_ but to start the water-casks, as before mentioned.

So sure were the English of making a capture that Captain Broke had appointed a prize crew from his vessel, the _Shannon_, and had claimed the honor of sailing the _Constitution_ into Halifax; but, as a contemporary states, “The gallant gentleman counted his chickens before they were hatched”--a saying trite but true.

To quote from the _Shannon’s_ log, under the entry of July 18th, will be of interest: “At dawn” (so it runs) “an American frigate within four miles of the squadron. Had a most fatiguing and anxious chase; both towing and kedging, as opportunity offered. American exchanged a few shots with _Belvidera_--carried near enemy by partial breeze. Cut our boats adrift, but all in vain; the _Constitution_ sailed well and escaped.”

It is recorded in English annals that there were some very sharp recriminations and explanations held in the _Shannon’s_ cabin. Perhaps Captain Hull would have enjoyed being present; but by this time he was headed northward. He ran into Boston harbor for water on the following Sunday.

Broke’s squadron separated, hoping to find the _Constitution_ on some future day and force her to action. In this desire Captain Dacres of the _Guerrière_ was successful--so far as the finding was concerned; but the well-known result started American hearts to beating high and cast a gloom over the Parliament of England.

The ovations and praises bestowed upon the American commander upon his arrival at Boston induced him to insert the following card on the books of the Exchange Coffee-House:

“Captain Hull, finding that his friends in Boston are correctly informed of his situation when chased by the British squadron off New York, and that they are good enough to give him more credit for having escaped it than he ought to claim, takes this opportunity of requesting them to transfer their good wishes to Lieutenant Morris and the other brave officers, and the crew under his command, for their very great exertions and prompt attention to his orders while the enemy were in chase. Captain Hull has great pleasure in saying that, notwithstanding the length of the chase, and the officers and crew being deprived of sleep, and allowed but little refreshment during the time, not a murmur was heard to escape them.”

It is rather a remarkable circumstance that the _Belvidera_, which was one of the vessels that in this long chase did her best to come up with the _Constitution_, had some months before declined the honor of engaging the _President_. For, on the 24th of June, Captain Rodgers had fired with his own hand one of the _President’s_ bow-chasers at the _Belvidera_, and thus opened the war. After exchanging some shots, Captain Byron, of the _Belvidera_, decided that discretion was the better part, and, lightening his ship, managed to escape.

II

THE “CONSTITUTION” AND THE “GUERRIÈRE”

[August 19th, 1812]

The history of the naval combats of our second war with Great Britain, the career of the frigate _Constitution_, and the deeds of our Yankee commodores will never be forgotten as long as we have a navy or continue to be a nation. England, it must be remembered, had held the seas for centuries. In no combat between single ships (where the forces engaged were anything like equal) had she lost a vessel. The French fleets, under orders of their own government, ran away from hers, and the Spanish captains had allowed their ships’ timbers to rot for years in blockaded harbors. Nevertheless, this was the age of honor, of gallantry, of the stiff duelling code, when men bowed, passed compliments, and fought one another to the death with a parade of courtesy that has left trace today in the conduct of the intercourse between all naval powers. In the duels of the ships in the past that have stirred the naval world, America has records that are monuments to her seamen, and that must arouse the pride of every officer who sails in her great steel cruisers today.

Up to the affair of the _Constitution_ and the _Guerrière_, in 1812, the British had not fairly tested in battle the seamanship or naval metal of the Americans. With the exceptions of the actions between the _Bonhomme Richard_ and the _Serapis_, the _Ranger_ and _Drake_, and the _Yarmouth_ and _Randolph_, the war of ’76 was a repelled invasion.

The twenty-four hours of the 19th of August, 1812, began with light breezes that freshened as the morning wore on. The _Constitution_ was slipping southward through the long rolling seas.

A month before this date, under the command of Commodore Hull, she had made her wonderful escape from Broke’s squadron after a chase of over sixty hours.

Her cruise since she had left Boston, two weeks before, had been uneventful. Vainly had she sought from Cape Sable to the region of Halifax, from Nova Scotia to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, for any sign of a foe worthy her metal. It was getting on towards two o’clock; her men had finished their midday meal, the afternoon drills had not begun, and an observation showed the ship to be in latitude 41° 40´ and longitude 55° 48´. Suddenly “Sail ho!” from the mast-head stirred the groups on the forecastle, and caused the officer pacing the weather side of the quarter-deck to stop suddenly and raise his head.

“Where away?” he shouted to the voice far up above the booming sails.

Almost before he could get the answer the stranger’s top-sails were visible from the lower rigging, into which the midshipmen and idlers had scrambled, and a few moments later they could be seen from the upper deck. The vessel was too far off to show her character, but bore E.S.E., a faint dot against the horizon.

Hull came immediately from his cabin. He was a large, fat man, whose excitable temperament was held in strong control. His eye gleamed when he saw the distant speck of white. Immediately the _Constitution’s_ course was altered, and with her light sails set she was running free, with kites all drawing, and the chase looming clearer and clearer each anxious minute of the time. At three o’clock it was plainly seen that she was a large ship, on the starboard tack, close-hauled on the wind, and under easy sail. In half an hour her ports could be descried through the glass, and loud murmurs of satisfaction ran through the ship’s company. The officers smiled congratulations at one another, and Hull’s broad face shone with his suppressed emotion. In the official account Hull speaks of the conduct of his crew before the fight in the following words: “It gives me great pleasure to say that from the smallest boy in the ship to the oldest seaman not a look of fear was seen. They went into action giving three cheers, and requesting to be laid close to the enemy.” The _Constitution_ gained on the stranger, who held her course, as if entirely oblivious of her pursuer’s presence.

When within three miles, and to leeward, Hull shortened sail and cleared the decks; the drum beat to quarters, and the men sprang to their stations. No crew was ever better prepared to do battle for any cause or country. Although few of the men had been in action before, they had been drilled until they had the handling of the clumsy iron guns down to the point of excellence. They had been taught to fire on the falling of a sea, and to hull their opponent, if possible, at every shot. They loved and trusted their commander, were proud of their ship, and burned to avenge the wrongs to which many had been subjected, for the merchant service had furnished almost half their number.

As soon as Hull took in his sail the stranger backed her main-topsail yard, and slowly came up into the wind. Then it could be seen that _her_ men were all at quarters also. Hull raised his flag. Immediately in response up went to every mast-head of the waiting ship the red cross of old England. It was growing late in the afternoon, the breeze had freshened, and the white-caps had begun to jump on every side. The crew of the _Constitution_ broke into three ringing cheers as their grand old craft bore down upon the enemy. When almost within range the English let go her broadside, filled away, wore ship, and fired her other broadside on the other tack. The shot fell short, and the _Constitution_ reserved her fire. For three-quarters of an hour the two yawed about and manoeuvred, trying to rake and to avoid being raked in turn. Occasionally the _Constitution_ fired a gun; her men were in a fever of impatience.

At six in the evening the enemy, seeing all attempts to outsail her antagonist were in vain, showed a brave indication of wishing to close and fight. Nearer the two approached, the American in silence.

“Shall I fire?” inquired Lieutenant Morris, Hull’s second in command.

“Not yet,” replied Hull, quietly.

The bows of the _Constitution_ began to double the quarter of the enemy. The latter’s shot began to start the sharp white splinters flying about the _Constitution’s_ decks.

“Shall I fire?” again asked Lieutenant Morris.

“Not yet, sir,” was Hull’s answer, spoken almost beneath his breath. Suddenly he bent forward. “Now, boys,” he shouted, loudly, so that his voice rang above the enemy’s shots and the roaring of the seas under the quarter, “pour it into them!” It was at this point, so the story goes, that Hull, crouching in his excitement, split his tight knee-breeches from waistband to buckle.

The _Constitution’s_ guns were double-shotted with round and grape. The broadside was as one single explosion, and the destruction was terrific. The enemy’s decks were flooded, and the blood ran out of the scuppers--her cockpit filled with the wounded. For a few minutes, shrouded in smoke, they fought at the distance of a half pistol-shot, but in that short space of time the Englishman was literally torn to pieces in hull, spars, sails, and rigging.

As her mizzen-mast gave way the Englishman brought up into the wind, and the _Constitution_ forged slowly ahead, fired again, luffed short around the other’s bows, and, owing to the heavy sea, fell foul of her antagonist, with her bowsprit across her larboard quarter. While in this position Hull’s cabin was set on fire by the enemy’s forward battery, and part of the crew were called away from the guns to extinguish the threatening blaze.

Now both sides tried to board. It was the old style of fighting for the British tars, and they bravely swarmed on deck at the call, “Boarders away!” and the shrill piping along the ’tween-decks. The Americans were preparing for the same attempt, and three of their officers who mounted the taffrail were shot by the muskets of the English. Brave Lieutenant Bush, of the marines, fell dead with a bullet in his brain.

The swaying and grinding of the huge ships against each other made boarding impossible, and it was at this anxious moment that the sails of the _Constitution_ filled; she fell off and shot ahead. Hardly was she clear when the foremast of the enemy fell, carrying with it the wounded main-mast, and leaving the proud vessel of a few hours before a helpless wreck, “rolling like a log in the trough of the sea, entirely at the mercy of the billows.”

It was now nearly seven o’clock. The sky had clouded over, the wind was freshening, and the sea was growing heavy. Hull drew off for repairs, rove new rigging, secured his masts, and, wearing ship, again approached, ready to pour in a final broadside. It was not needed. Before the _Constitution_ could fire, the flag which had been flying at the stump of the enemy’s mizzen-mast was struck. The fight was over.

A boat was lowered from the _Constitution_, and Lieutenant Read, the third officer, rowing to the prize, inquired, with “Captain Hull’s compliments,” if she had struck her flag. He was answered by Captain Dacres--who must have possessed a sense of humor--that, for very obvious reasons, she certainly had done so.

To quote a few words from Hull’s account of the affair--he says: “After informing that so fine a ship as the _Guerrière_, commanded by an able and experienced officer, had been totally dismasted and otherwise cut to pieces, so as to make her not worth towing into port, in the short space of thirty minutes (actual fighting time), you can have no doubt of the gallantry and good conduct of the officers and ship’s company I have the honor to command.”

In the _Constitution_ seven were killed and seven wounded. In the _Guerrière_, fifteen killed, sixty-two wounded--including several officers and the captain, who was wounded slightly; twenty-four were missing.

The next day, owing to the reasons shown in Hull’s report, the _Guerrière_ was set on fire. At 3.15 in the afternoon she blew up; and this was the end of the ship whose commander had sent a personal message to Captain Hull some weeks before, requesting the “honor of a _tête-à-tête_ at sea.”

Isaac Hull, who had thus early endeared himself in the hearts of his countrymen, and set a high mark for American sailors to aim at, was born near the little town of Derby, not far from New Haven, Connecticut, in the year 1775. He was early taken with a desire for the sea, and at the age of twelve years he went on board a vessel that had been captured by his father from the British during the Revolution.

Although he entered the navy at the age of twenty-three, he had already made eighteen voyages to different parts of Europe and the West Indies, and had seen many adventures and thrilling moments.

During the administration of John Adams there occurred “that exceedingly toilsome but inglorious service” of getting rid of the French privateers who infested the West Indian seas. During this quasi-war Hull was first lieutenant of the frigate _Constitution_ under Commodore Talbot. In May, 1798, he had a chance to distinguish himself, and did not neglect the opportunity, although the upshot of it was tragic but bloodless.

It might not be out of place to relate the incident here. In the harbor Porto Plata, in the island of St. Domingo, lay the _Sandwich_, a French letter-of-marque. Hull was sent by his superior, in one of the cutters, to reconnoitre the Frenchman. On the way he found a little American sloop that rejoiced in the name of _Sally_. Hull threw his party of seamen and marines on board of her, and hid them below the deck. Then the _Sally_ was put into the harbor, and, as if by some awkwardness, ran afoul of the _Sandwich_, which, as a jocose writer remarks, “they devoured without the loss of a man.” At the same time this rash proceeding was being carried on under the eyes (or, better, guns) of a Spanish battery, Lieutenant Carmick took some marines and, rowing ashore, spiked the guns. The _Sandwich_ was captured at midday, and before the afternoon was over she weighed her anchor, beat out of the harbor, and joined the _Constitution_.

In the opinion of nautical judges this was the best bit of cutting-out work on record, for Hull’s men were outnumbered three to one; and if he had not taken precautions, the battery could have blown him out of the water. But, alas and alack! all this daring and bravery went for worse than naught. Spain complained of the treatment she had received, and the United States government acknowledged that the capture was illegal, having taken place in a neutral port. The _Sandwich_ was restored to her French owners, and, worst of all, every penny of the prize money due the _Constitution’s_ officers and men for this cruise went to pay the damages.

Before the war of 1812, Hull distinguished himself by his fearlessness and self-reliance during the Tripolitan war. The two occasions that gave him renown during our struggle with Great Britain have been recorded at length, and there is but to set down that, after the conclusion of the war with Great Britain, Commodore Hull was in command at the various stations in the Pacific and the Mediterranean, and departed this life on the 13th of February, 1843. Of him John Frost writes, in 1844, “He was a glorious old commodore, with a soul full of all noble aspirations for his country’s honor--a splendid relic of a departed epoch of naval renown.”

III

THE “WASP” AND THE “FROLIC”

[October 18th, 1812]

Jacob Jones, of the United States Navy, was a native of Kent County, in the State of Delaware. He rose rapidly through the various grades of the service, attracting notice by his steadfastness and attention to duty, and in 1811 he was transferred to the command of the _Wasp_, a tidy sloop of war then mounting eighteen 24-pound carronades. She was a fast sailer, given any wind or weather.

In the spring of 1812, Captain Jones was despatched to England with communications to our minister at the Court of St. James. After fulfilling his mission he immediately set sail for America. The declaration of war between England and this country took place while the _Wasp_ was on the high seas on her returning voyage; but as soon as he had landed, the news greeted her commander, and he was eager to put to sea again.

Captain Jacob Jones knew his ship, he knew his crew, and he rejoiced in having about him a set of young officers devoted to the service. Their names were James Biddle, George W. Rogers, Benjamin W. Broth, Henry B. Rapp, and Lieutenants Knight and Claxton, and they were soon destined to win laurels and glory for their country.

The first short cruise yielded no adventure of importance, but on the 13th of October the _Wasp_ left the Delaware and two days later encountered a heavy gale, during which her jib-boom was unfortunately carried away and two of her people lost overboard. For some hours she was thrown about like a shuttlecock, and all hands were called time and again to shorten sail. The night of the 17th the sky cleared and the stars shone brightly. To Captain Jones’s surprise several sail were reported as being close at hand to the eastward. They were clearly seen through the night-glass to be large, and apparently armed. Jones stood straight for them, and gave orders to lay the same course that the strangers were then holding, and so they kept until dawn of the next day, which was a Sunday.

A heavy sea was running, and the _Wasp_, close-hauled, crept up to windward of the fleet that she had followed through the night. At the beginning of the early morning watch they were made out to be four large ships and two smaller vessels under a spread of canvas, all keeping close together.

But what was more interesting to the eager American crew was a sturdy sloop of war, a brig, that was edging up slowly into the wind, evidently guarding the six fleeing vessels to leeward--the sheep-dog of the flock.

The _Wasp_, having the weather-gage, swung off a point or so to lessen the distance.

As the stranger brig came nearer she heeled over until her broadside could be counted with the eye, and her lower sails were seen to be wet with the spray that dashed up over her bows.

For some time the Americans had been aloft getting down the topgallant yards, and at eleven o’clock the stranger brig shortened sail and shook out the Spanish flag. But this did not deceive the wary Yankee captain for half an instant. No one but an American or an Englishman would carry sail in that fashion or bring his ship up to an enemy like that, and the _Wasp’s_ drummer beat to quarters.

Now for over thirty minutes the two vessels sailed on side by side, but constantly nearing. At last they were so close that the buttons of the officers’ coats could be seen, the red coat of a marine showed, and all doubt on board the _Wasp_ of the other being anything but English was dispelled in a flash. The matches had been smoking for a full quarter of an hour.

When within near pistol-shot Captain Jones hailed through his trumpet. Down came the colors of Spain and up went the cross of St. George. The distance was scarcely sixty yards, and as the flags exchanged the brig let go her broadside. A lucky incident occurred just then that probably saved many lives on board the _Wasp_. A sudden puff of wind heeled the enemy over as she fired, and her shot swept through the upper rigging and riddled the sails. Jones immediately replied with all his guns, that tore and hulled his antagonist with almost every shot; then, as fast as his crew could load and fire, he kept at it. Now and then the muzzles of his little broadside would sweep into the water; but those of the enemy, aimed high, were mangling his rigging and sweeping away braces, blocks, and running gear.