These are the incidents and drawbacks peculiar to sudden enterprises, and they must be met by the resources of true seamen.
The Constitution took the Guerrière with a crew that had been acting together but little more than a month; and she was manœuvring before the English squadron, off New York—a much more delicate business—within five days of the time that a large proportion of her crew had joined her.
Captain Downie’s professional character, as well as his published declarations, prove that he considered the Confiance ready to meet an enemy. Sir James Yeo, with greater reason than he had for his former complaint, said that Captain Downie stood square into the bay to make his attack—and by this exposed himself to a raking fire, which, no doubt, contributed to the loss of the day.
The leading into a hostile squadron bows on had frequently been practiced by the English in European waters, with comparative impunity. But it was an eminently hazardous experiment to make under the guns of an American man-of-war. Still, Downie’s bearing was highly gallant, and assuring to his ships’ companies. The weatherly position he attained was much in his favor; and, judging from the force of his own vessel, could he have got the berth he aimed at, there is great reason to think he would have been successful. That he was foiled, must be attributed to the immovable steadiness, cool deliberation, and admirable fire of the people he assailed.
Although many of the American officers were wounded, but two commissioned officers were killed. These were Mr. Gamble, whose death has already been alluded to; and Mr. Stansbury, the first lieutenant of the Ticonderoga.
Mr. Stansbury suddenly disappeared from the bulwarks, forward, while superintending some duty with the springs. Two days after the action his body rose to the surface, near his own ship, and it was found to have been cut in two by a round shot.
Many officers were knocked down, during the engagement, without having blood drawn. At one moment there was a cry on board the Saratoga, that Captain McDonough was killed. He was lying on his face, on the quarter-deck, nearly senseless, and it was two or three minutes before he recovered. During most of the action he sighted a favorite gun, and, while bending his body to sight it, a shot cut the spanker boom in two, letting the spar fall upon his back, a blow which might easily have proved fatal.
In a few minutes the cry that “the Commodore” was killed was again heard. This time McDonough was lying on the deck, between two guns, covered with blood, and again nearly senseless. A shot had driven the head of the captain of his favorite gun in upon him, and knocked him into the scuppers. He soon recovered, as the blood turned out to be that of the unfortunate man.
Mr. Brum, the Master, a venerable old seaman, while engaged in winding the ship, had a large splinter driven so near his body that it actually stripped off his clothing. He was thought to be dead, but soon recovered, regained his feet, and, making an apron of his pocket-handkerchief, coolly went to work again at the springs.
A few months after the battle this veteran died; as it was thought, from the injury.