A few days later the “Constitution” chased and overhauled the American privateer “Decatur,” which, believing her to be an English cruiser, had thrown overboard almost all of her guns. The captain of the privateer had good news, though. He had sighted an English frigate the day before, sailing southward under easy sail. Hull immediately set everything the “Constitution” could carry and gave the quartermasters a course which should enable him to come up with her by the following day.
The next morning dawned clear, but the breezes fell light, and not until the morning watch was there wind enough to send the American frigate bowling along on her course under top-gallant-sails and royals. Hull took the deck for awhile himself and sent lookouts to the fore- and main-royal-yards to keep a sharp lookout. With moderate luck they should catch up with her. And then Hull felt that he would make the “Constitution” the most talked about ship afloat or else he would change the timidity at the Navy Department into a panic for which there would be some reason.
If the ship were the “Guerriere,” he promised himself a new hat.
Not a sail hove in sight until towards two in the afternoon, when a lookout aloft shouted, in a voice that was taken up by four hundred throats on the spar- and gun-decks,—
“Sail ho!”
In a moment the watch below came rushing up. So great was the excitement that many of them went half-way to the tops, without orders or permission, to view the stranger. In an hour the stronger glasses proved her plainly to be a frigate, and the “Constitution” eased off her sheets, and with the bit in her teeth boomed steadily down for her. For an hour the two ships moved in this position, the stranger making no effort to escape and leaving her colors, which were soon made out to be British, flying in defiance. In fact, as soon as she discovered the “Constitution” to be an American frigate she took in sail, laid her maintop-sail to the mast, and silently awaited the approach. Hull sailed on until within about three miles of the enemy, when he sent his light yards down, reefed his topsails, and cleared ship for action.
An American-built frigate was for the first time to test her stanchness against a worthy representative of the mistress of the seas and “Terror of the World.” Most of the crew had never been in close action before. The chase of the “Constitution” had tired their hearts less than their bodies, for the firing of the British squadron had been at a very long range, and there was never a time when their ship was in danger from the cannonading of the enemy. There was not a qualm or a fear to be seen on the faces either of grizzled seaman or powder-boy, and they went to quarters with enthusiasm.
But underlying it all there was a note of gravity. They were going to bring an American ship into action with a frigate whose navy had scored hundreds of victories over the vessels of all the great nations of the earth. They half wondered at their audacity and that of their captain in defying a frigate so redoubtable as the “Guerriere,” for there seemed no further doubt that it was she. But they looked up at Hull, who was calmly pacing up and down the quarter-deck, taking a look now and then at the enemy through his glass, and their confidence came back to them. The excitement was intense, and one by one the men began throwing aside their shirts and drawing in the buckles of their cutlass-hangers, most of the gun-crews stripping themselves to the waist and casting aside their shoes to avoid slipping on the decks when the blood began to flow. More than one of them had his own private score to settle with the British navy. Many of them had been at one time or another taken off American merchant-ships and impressed into the service of the enemy, and some of them still bore upon their backs the scars of the bloody lashes of the relentless “Cat.” The father of Captain Hull had died in the pest-ship “Jersey,” in the Revolution, and the other officers had all some grievances of their own which made them look eagerly forward to the battle which they intended should mean victory or death.
On the “Guerriere” there was a feeling of unshaken confidence. That any calamity to their ship could be expected from an American-built vessel, manned by a crew collected haphazard among the merchant-ships of the Atlantic harbors, never for a moment occurred to them. When the drum beat to quarters, the men tumbled to their stations willingly enough, with no more trepidation than if they were going to target-practice. Captain Dacres summoned an American prisoner, the captain of the captured merchant-brig “Betsy,” and asked him what he thought of the vessel which was approaching. The skipper ventured that she was undoubtedly an American frigate. Captain Dacres replied with a smile,—
“She comes down a shade too boldly for an American.” And then added, “Well, the better he behaves the more honor we will have in taking him.”