As the “Constitution” bore down nearer, her ensign and jack flying proudly, there could no longer be any doubt as to her nationality and intentions, and he shouted to his crew, who stood at the guns,—
“There, my men, is a Yankee frigate. In forty-five minutes she is certainly ours. Take her in fifteen, and I promise you four months’ pay.”
Shortly after this Captain Hull was within two or three miles, and the “Guerriere” opened fire on the “Constitution,” to try the distance and get the range.
The shots fell short, but Hull took in his light sails and came down more warily under topsails. The “Constitution” fired a broadside, but these shots, too, dropped in the water between them. As he came nearer, the “Guerriere” squared away, wearing first to port and then to starboard, firing alternate broadsides and manœuvring to avoid being raked. He wanted to cripple the American’s rigging from a distance, if possible. But the shot all missed their mark, and the “Constitution” only replied with her bow-guns. Hull soon saw that this manœuvring might last the day out without coming to close quarters, so he hoisted his top-gallant-sails and made straight for the enemy.
Now the shot of the Englishman began coming aboard. Some of the standing rigging was cut away and the vessel was hulled several times. But the men, having carefully reloaded, stood silently at their guns, looking out through the ports at the “Guerriere,” which, enveloped in smoke, kept up a continuous fire. They looked anxiously at the short, stout, sturdy figure of Captain Hull, but he continued pacing the quarter-deck, making no sign that he was aware of the damage the shots were causing. In a moment the report of “Nobody hurt yet, sir,” ceased suddenly. A shot struck the “Constitution’s” starboard bulwarks up forward and sent a jagged hail of splinters among the crew of two of the guns of the first division. Two men were killed outright and one or two more were wounded by this shot, and as their shipmates saw the men carried below to the cockpit they moved uneasily, and several of the gun-captains wished to fire. Lieutenant Morris now, with a view to quieting them, strode aft to the quarter-deck, where Hull was still calmly pacing up and down, and said,—
“The enemy has killed two of our men. Shall we return it?”
“Not yet, sir,” replied the impenetrable Hull.
Morris returned to his station. But there is nothing more disorganizing to men than to be fired at and not have the opportunity of firing in return, and they besought Morris again to give the permission. Twice more the lieutenant went aft to the quarter-deck, and twice he got the same reply. Hull, like Paul Jones, believed in great broadsides at close quarters. This silence under galling fire was the greatest test of discipline an American crew had ever had. For in the heat of battle a man forgets to be afraid. That the men stood to it, speaks well for Hull’s training.
At last the “Constitution,” which had been drawing closer and closer, drew up to a position about forty yards off the “Guerriere’s” port-quarter, and Hull, waiting until his guns could all bear, stooped low, bursting his breeches from knee to waistband in the excitement of the moment, and gave vent to all the pent-up feelings of two hours in the hoarse order,—
“Now, boys, give it to them!”