Stewart was, of course, aware of the orders which had been issued by the Admiralty, but with his ship in fine condition and provisioned for a long cruise he feared nothing that floated, whether one ship or two. In fact, just before leaving his young wife in Boston he had asked her what he should bring her home.
“A British frigate,” said she, patriotically.
“I will bring you two of them,” he said, smiling.
Stewart sailed to the southward, in the hope of falling in with some vessels in the India trade. For two months, in spite of their fitness, the men were daily exercised in all weathers at evolutions with the sails and great guns, and part of the day was given to cutlass-work and pistol-practice. No emergency drill was overlooked, and from reefing topsails to sending up spare spars or setting stu’n-sails they moved like the co-ordinated parts of a great machine. But one prize having been taken, however, Stewart set his course for the coast of Europe, to seek the lion, like Paul Jones, on his own cruising ground.
On February 18, 1815, just two months after leaving Boston, the “Constitution,” being then near the Portuguese coast, sighted a large sail, and immediately squared away in pursuit. But hardly were they set on their new course before another sail hove up to leeward, and Stewart quickly made down for her. Overhauling her shortly, she was discovered to be the British merchant ship “Susan,” which he seized as a prize and sent back to Boston. Meanwhile the other sail, which afterwards proved to be the “Elizabeth,” 74, had disappeared.
The following day the “Constitution” was holding a course to the southward from the coast of Spain toward Madeira. A group of her officers stood upon her quarter-deck, watching the scud flying to leeward. They were rather a discontented lot. They had been to sea two months, and beyond a few merchant prizes they had nothing to show for their cruise. It was not like the luck of “Old Ironsides.” What they craved was action to put a confirmatory test to the metal they were so sure of. The fo’c’s’le was grumbling, too; and the men who had been in her when she fought the “Guerriere” and the “Java” could no longer in safety boast of the glory of those combats.
Had they but known it, the “Elizabeth,” 74, and the “Tiber,” 38, in command of Captain Dacres, who had lost the “Guerriere,” were but a few hours astern of them; and the “Leander,” 50, the “Newcastle,” 50, and the “Acasta,” 40, whom they had so skilfully eluded at Boston, were dashing along from the westward in pursuit. The seas to the eastward, too, were swarming with other frigates (in couples), who were seeking her no less anxiously than she was seeking them.
Stewart was not so easily disheartened as his officers. He knew that the “Constitution” was in the very midst of the ships of the enemy. Had he not known it he would not have been there. He came on deck during the afternoon in a high good humor. He was a believer in presentiments, and said, jovially,—
“The luck of the ‘Constitution’ isn’t going to fail her this time, gentlemen. I assure you that before the sun rises and sets again you will be engaged in battle with the enemy, and it will not be with a single ship.”
The morning of the next day dawned thick and cloudy. Though well to the southward, the air was cold and damp. The wind was blowing sharply from the northeast, and the choppy seas sent their gray crests pettishly or angrily upward, where they split into foam and were carried down to mingle with the blur of the fog to leeward. Occasionally, in the wind-squalls, the rain pattered like hail against the bellying canvas and ran down into the lee-clews, where it was caught as it fell and whipped out into the sea beyond.