Dewey and Other Naval Commanders

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

You have already been told considerable about Stephen Decatur, one of the bravest and most chivalrous men that ever drew a sword. At the breaking out of the War of 1812 he was given command of the frigate United States, of 44 guns, built in 1798, and one of the finest in the American navy. While lying at Norfolk, some months before war was declared, the British frigate Macedonian, of about the same strength, was in port, and the officers and crews became well acquainted.

The commander of the Macedonian was Captain John Surman Carden, one of the finest officers in the British service. He and Decatur became fond of each other and often discussed the probable results of the impending naval contests, for it was apparent to both that their countries were on the brink of war. Captain Carden conceded the bravery and skill of the American officers and seamen, but insisted that they would be at a disadvantage, because they had not met with the experience of the Englishmen, who had been engaged in so many wars with European nations.

The Macedonian was made of oak and was without a superior in the British navy. In the latter part of September, 1812, she left Portsmouth, England. She was just off the docks and her crew, 297 in number, were such as the best officer would have been proud to command. The discipline was as near perfection as possible, Captain Carden being one of the severest of disciplinarians. His business was to look out for French merchantmen and warships, though as it was known that war had been declared with the United States, it was deemed probable that Captain Carden would have a chance of testing the mettle of her naval officers and crews.

There were two American vessels that Captain Carden was specially anxious to meet. One was the Essex, which was playing havoc among the English shipping (and of which I shall tell you something later on), and the other that of Captain Stephen Decatur, the courteous but brave naval officer who had displayed so much intrepidity in the war with Tripoli and had insisted to Carden that the American sailors were the match of the English anywhere.

While at Madeira Captain Carden learned that the Essex had sailed from the Delaware and was expected to cruise in the neighborhood of the Canary Islands. The Englishman turned southward and was within a few days' sail of the islands when, on the 25th of October, the man at the masthead reported a sail. As it approached it was carefully scrutinized and found to be a frigate bearing down on the Macedonian.

Convinced that she was an enemy, Captain Carden at once issued the command to clear for action. The most thorough preparations were made and officers were stationed with orders to shoot down the first man who flinched from his duty. On board the ship were a number of American seamen, who began speculating among themselves as to whether the approaching frigate was a Frenchman or belonged to their own country. They were in a trying position, for they were patriotic and would have given anything in the world to escape firing upon their countrymen, but there was no help for it. Such a rigid disciplinarian as Captain Carden would listen to no protests from them, and, should the stranger prove to be an American, it would be a choice between helping to fight her or being shot down by their own officers.

The approaching frigate went through a number of evolutions of such a rapid and brilliant nature that the Englishmen murmured their admiration. Through their glasses the officers could see groups of men on the quarter deck scanning them closely, while glimpses of sailors were caught as they moved about the deck and of the gun crews standing quietly at their stations. Then, when there was a change of direction, parties of marines were observed in her tops, muskets in hand, coolly awaiting the time when the ships would engage at close quarters.

While Captain Carden and his officers were in doubt whether the ship was a French one she gave her colors to the breeze. They were the Stars and Stripes of the American Republic. One of the finest of its frigates had thrown down the gage of battle to as superb a frigate as belonged to the British navy.

Since all doubt of her nationality was dispelled, one of the American seamen walked resolutely to Captain Carden, saluted and told him that he and his companions had no wish to fight the flag of their country. In reply the officer ordered him back to his station and with notice that if the request was repeated he would be shot. Sad to say, the sailor who made his wish known was one of the first killed in battle.

The two ships now began exchanging shots, but the distance was too great for any damage on either side. A little after 9 o'clock on that bright sunshiny Sunday morning they were close enough for the wonderful marksmanship of the American to display itself. The first shot that found the Macedonian entered through the starboard bulwark and killed the sergeant of marines. A minute later the mizzen topmast was sundered, and, cluttered with sails, yards and rigging, it fell into the maintop, where it hung suspended, liable to fall at any moment and crush those beneath.