CHAPTER XV
There were three important and epoch-making events in the war: the victory of the Constitution over the Guerrière, the battle of Lake Erie, and the battle of Lake Champlain. Each of these was of such immense importance that they overshadow all others, picturesque and striking as others were.
The administration had at first only considered the laying up of our ships, but the indignant protests of our naval officers caused another course. The first ships to get to sea were those at New York: the President, 44, Commodore Rodgers; the Essex, 32, Captain David Porter; and the Hornet, 18, Master Commandant Lawrence. These were joined down the bay on June 21st by the United States, 44, Commodore Decatur; and the Congress, 36, Lieutenant Commandant Sinclair from Norfolk. All except the Essex, which was overhauling her rigging, got to sea on the 21st, immediately after the reception of the declaration of war, and stood southeast to intercept a reported fleet of West Indiamen. On June 23d, however, a frigate, later known to be the Belvidera, was sighted and chased. On nearing her, Rodgers himself went forward to direct the firing, and at 4:30 he fired the starboard forecastle gun, the first shot of the war. The next gun was fired from the main deck by the officer of the division, and a third was fired by Rodgers. The three shots had all struck the chase, killing and wounding seven men. A fourth was now fired from the main deck. This gun burst, lifting the forecastle deck, killing and wounding sixteen men. Among the latter was Rodgers, who was thrown into the air and in falling broke his leg. The forward guns being thrown out of action, the President was obliged to yaw from time to time to bring her broadside guns to bear. This gave the chase an advantage which was added to by her throwing overboard boats and anchors and fourteen tons of water. By midnight she was out of danger. The President does not seem to have been handled as well as she might have been, but account must be taken of the very serious accident aboard and of the injury to the commodore. The Belvidera’s fire killed and wounded six of the President’s crew. She was well handled and her captain, Richard Byron, deserves marked credit for his escape. Rodgers continued his cruise in pursuit of the West Indiaman as far as the entrance to the English Channel, but by August 31st was in Boston, having made but seven prizes and one recapture.
The Essex did not leave New York until June 23d. The ship carried, mostly, only carronades which were totally inefficient except at close quarters. This fact placed her at a great disadvantage when in meeting a convoy of troops she was unable to bring to action the convoying frigate. She cut out, however, one ship with 197 soldiers aboard. But on August 13th she captured the sloop-of-war, Alert, of twenty 18-pounder carronades, the first man-of-war prize of the war. The Essex returned to New York on September 7th, having taken ten prizes and 423 prisoners.
The Constitution, Captain Hull, had returned, just before the outbreak of the war, from Europe where she had been sent to pay the interest on our Dutch loan. She shipped a new crew, and on July 12th sailed from Annapolis. On the 17th when off the Virginia coast, and barely out of sight of land, six vessels were discovered, one of which, as it turned out, and much the nearest, being the Guerrière. The next morning, the weather almost calm, there were four frigates, a ship-of-the-line, and a brig and a schooner just out of gunshot; the two last were prizes. There then ensued a chase famous in American naval annals for the admirable way in which the Constitution was handled, and for her success. She hoisted out her boats in the calm and towed; the enemy put the boats of two ships to tow the headmost. Their advantage was overcome by Hull’s using all the cordage of the ship available for such a purpose in running a kedge ahead nearly half a mile and hauling in upon the hawser. The kedges thus employed caused the Constitution to gain largely until the enemy discovered the method and himself applied it. For two days this most exciting and exhausting chase continued. On the evening of the 20th there was a heavy squall, which was utilized by Hull with the utmost judgment and during which a large gain in distance was made. On its clearing away all apprehension ended; all but two of the frigates were far distant and most of the fleet hull down. At 8:15 next morning the English gave up the chase, thus ending as exciting three days and nights as any of the war. The admirable manner in which the Constitution was handled has ever been the admiration of seamen.
The Constitution went into Boston, but Hull, fearing orders for detachment, which in fact were on the way from Washington, hurried to sea again on August 2d. On the 19th, at a point some 400 miles southeast of Halifax, he met the British frigate, Guerrière, Captain Dacres. The latter on the Constitution’s near approach lay-to with her maintopsail to the mast, showing her willingness to engage. The battle began a little after 6:00 P.M., and before seven the Guerrière was dismasted and in a sinking condition. Her crew was taken off; she was set afire, and in a quarter of an hour blew up. The Constitution was practically uninjured and in a few hours could have gone into action again. She was, it is true, the heavier ship, with thirty 24-pounders against the Guerrière’s thirty 18’s, and twenty-four 32-pounder carronades against the Guerrière’s sixteen; and a total of 55 guns and 468 men against the Guerrière’s 49 guns and 272 men, but the injury was entirely disproportionate. The Guerrière had seventy-nine men killed and wounded. The Constitution had seven killed and seven wounded. The Guerrière lost every mast and her hull was so riddled that she could not be carried into port. So little was the Constitution injured that in the same evening all damage was repaired and another ship, supposedly an enemy, which appeared at 2:00 A.M., sheered off.
The ships were not markedly different in size, the Constitution being 1,576 tons American measurement, the Guerrière 1,338 British. But by the latter the Constitution would have been but 1,426. The difference in size and force, however, was a small matter considering the fact that before the outbreak of the war it was confidently affirmed that British sloops-of-war would lie alongside American frigates with impunity.
The capture of the Guerrière by the Constitution is a great landmark in our history—a second “shot heard round the world.” It was not simply the taking of a British frigate; it was a second declaration of American independence. We had so long been called spaniels and curs in the British press; we had so long submitted basely (the word is none too strong to describe our administration of the Jeffersonian period); there had become so strongly entrenched in the British and French mind that we would submit to any insult so long as our ships might sail, even at the cost of the immense toll they took of them, that our going to war was considered impossible. New England, the chief sufferer, was in a dangerous spirit which threatened secession. All this changed instantly when the news spread from town to town, from farm to farm. The Americans became another people. It revived the dormant spirit of nationality and gave a deathblow to the disunionist spirit of the period. How it permeated the soul of the country was shown in a remarkable way at the death of a lady of the Adams family in 1903. Born in 1808, she was but four years old at the time of the battle, but so vividly had the exultation of her elders been impressed upon the child’s mind, that on the day of her death, more than ninety years after, her mind reverted to but one thought, the most deeply impressed of her childhood. In tremulous tones, though otherwise apparently unconscious, she kept repeating through this last day of her life the expression of her elders in 1812: “Thank God for Hull’s victory.”[30] Nothing could show more strongly the immensity of exultation and relief. The Constitution was to have other victories, was to come unscathed through the war, and was for many years to carry our flag in honor in many seas; but this victory alone should enshrine the ship in the hearts of all true Americans as an instrument which went far to preserve this Union and its government. Fortunately, through Oliver Wendell Holmes’s noble poem, she still remains, honored in her old age, a glorious memory of victory in a noble cause.
On October 18th the sloop-of-war Wasp, of 18 guns and 135 men, commanded by Captain Jacob Jones, captured the British brig Frolic, of 19 guns and 110 men. The first lieutenant, Biddle, who had gallantly led the boarders, hauled down the Frolic’s flag at 12:15, forty-three minutes after the beginning of the action. Almost at once afterward both of the Frolic’s masts went by the board. Not twenty of her men had escaped unhurt. Every officer was wounded, and the first lieutenant and master died soon after. Her total loss was thus ninety killed and wounded. Says the distinguished French Admiral Jurien de la Gravière, commenting on this action: “On occasions when the roughness of the sea would seem to render all aim excessively uncertain the effects of [the American] artillery were not less murderous than under more advantageous conditions.” Unfortunately, a little later, the British Poictiers, 74, came in sight, and the Wasp not only had to yield her capture but was herself carried a prize into Bermuda, where Jones and his men were later exchanged. Captain Jones was promoted to the command of the Macedonian, which had been captured by the United States only a week after the Wasp’s own brilliant action.
The United States and Argus, under Commodore Decatur, had left Boston on October 8th in company with Commodore Rodgers, commanding the President and the Congress. The latter was successful in making one valuable prize and eight others of but small value, and reëntered Boston on December 31st. Decatur had separated from Rodgers’s command on October 12th, and on the 18th, about 500 miles south by west of the Azores, he met the frigate Macedonian, of 49 guns and 301 men, commanded by Captain Richard Carden. There was about the same difference in force as between the Constitution and Guerrière and about the same in destruction. The Macedonian had forty-three killed and mortally wounded, and sixty-one wounded; the United States had a lieutenant and six seamen killed or mortally wounded, and five wounded. The action lasted an hour and a half. The Macedonian had received over a hundred shot in the hull, her mizzenmast had gone by the board, and her fore and maintopmasts at the cap. Her rigging was badly cut and many of her guns had been dismounted. On the other hand, the United States had suffered no injuries which could not at once be repaired. It was clear that the American gunnery was immensely superior, though the Macedonian had been regarded a crack ship. The British ship had on board eight impressed Americans. These, though objecting to fighting their countrymen, were obliged to stay at the guns, and three were killed.
Fortunately the damages to the Macedonian were not so severe that she had to be destroyed; convoyed by the United States, she was carried into New London, reaching there on December 4th.
On October 26, 1812, Commodore Bainbridge sailed from Boston with the Constitution, which he personally commanded, and the Hornet, 18, Captain Lawrence. The Essex, under Captain David Porter, was also to be part of Bainbridge’s squadron, but she was in the Delaware and did not get to sea until two days after Bainbridge left Boston. In anticipation of a long cruise, the ship carried an unusual number of both officers and men. Very unfortunately, she had to retain, against Porter’s protest, a battery of short-range carronades with but six long 12-pounders. She was given the island of Fernando de Noronha, off Brazil, as a rendezvous. She was not to meet her consorts, but to have adventures of her own of a very remarkable character.
Bainbridge, touching at Fernando de Noronha, went into Bahia, Brazil, and found there a British sloop-of-war of the same force as the Hornet. Lawrence challenged her captain to a fight, pledging that the Constitution would not interfere. The challenge, however, was not accepted, among the reasons being that the Bonne Citoyenne had on board £500,000 in species. Bainbridge, leaving the Hornet to watch the British ship, went to sea. December 29th, being still near Bahia, he sighted two ships: one turned out to be the frigate Java; the other a captured ship, the William, in company. The latter was directed to go into Bahia and the Java stood toward the Constitution. The latter stood off to get clear of the land, in plain view, and thus get out of neutral waters. There was a mutual readiness to engage. The Java came down with a light free wind, furling her mainsail and royals. The Constitution, with royal yards aloft, and which she carried throughout the battle, was under about the same canvas. The firing began at 2:00 P.M., with a shot at long range from the Constitution, but the two ships quickly neared to pistol range. They approached so near that they were less than 600 feet apart. The Java was being so much cut up aloft that an attempt was made to board, but during this the Constitution poured in a most destructive raking fire (i. e., lengthwise of the enemy), bringing down the Java’s maintopmast and cutting away the foremast just under the foretop. The attempt to board failed, the ships fell apart and began anew as furiously as ever. Captain Lambert of the Java was killed and the ship continued to be fought gallantly by her first lieutenant, Chads, who was already wounded. But the British, with the wreck of the maintopmast with its hamper over the side, the foretopmast gone, and a little later the mizzenmast and what remained of the foremast, could do no more; the Java’s guns were completely silenced. At 4:05, the Java’s flag being shot away, Bainbridge thought she had struck. He then hauled by the wind and crossed the Java’s bows. The latter’s mainmast fell, leaving her a complete wreck. The Constitution went to windward, spent an hour in repairing the very moderate damages to her rigging, and then again stood down for her enemy, whose flag had again been shown. This, of course, meant nothing in such circumstances, and as soon as the Constitution stood across her bows it was struck.
The Constitution, after her repairs of an hour, was now again, in naval language, all ataunto. Her loss had been eight seamen and one marine killed; the fifth lieutenant, John C. Aylwin, and two seamen mortally wounded; Commodore Bainbridge and twelve seamen severely wounded; seven seamen and two marines slightly wounded; a total killed and wounded of thirty-four.
The Java had been cut to pieces; “she was a riddled and entirely dismasted hulk.” She lost her captain and five midshipmen killed or mortally wounded, and six officers and four midshipmen wounded. Her total loss was forty-eight killed and one hundred and two wounded.[31]
The two ships were not very unequal in force, the Constitution being about 10 per cent. stronger in weight of gunfire and with about 10 per cent. more men. The larger number of men aboard the Java than she usually carried was due to her having on board men for some other ships. Both ships were handled with remarkable skill and coolness, but the American gunnery had shown itself enormously superior. It had so wrecked the Java that Bainbridge, now 5,000 miles from home and on an unfriendly coast, gave up the idea of attempting to save the ship. He lay by for several days removing the wounded and saving the effects of the crew. The Java was then blown up, and the Constitution went into Bahia and paroled the Java’s officers and crew.
“Our gallant enemy,” reported Lieutenant Chads, “has treated us most generously,” and Lieutenant-General Hislop who with his staff were passengers in the Java for the East, presented Commodore Bainbridge with a very handsome sword as a token of gratitude for the kindness with which he had treated the prisoners.[32]
Bainbridge, his ship needing repairs after a long period of service which had begun before the war, sailed from Bahia on January 6, 1813, and reached Boston February 27th, having been absent 119 days. The Hornet had been left at Bahia observing the Bonne Citoyenne, but the arrival of the Montagu, 74, relieved the captain of the British sloop-of-war from risking his ship and treasure. The Hornet, on the Montagu’s arrival, put to sea late in the evening unmolested.
The war had now lasted six months, and instead of the little American navy being swept from the sea, it had been a David to smite a Goliath. The capture of three British frigates in the three successive combats stirred Britain to the quick. Said the Pilot of London: “Five hundred merchantmen [taken] and three frigates! Can this be true? Will the English people read this unmoved? Any man who foretold such disasters this day last year would have been treated as a madman or a traitor. He would have been told that ere seven months had gone the American flag would have been swept from the ocean, the American navy destroyed, and the maritime arsenals of the United States reduced to ashes. Yet not one of the American frigates has struck. They leave their ports when they choose, and return when it suits their convenience. They cross the Atlantic, they visit the West Indies, they come to the chops of the Channel, they parade along the coast of South America. Nothing chases them; nothing intercepts them—nay, nothing engages them but to yield in triumph.”[33]