SCENE I. THE FIGHT WITH THE GUERRIERE
At last the day has come. Long and eagerly awaited has it been by American seamen. A tall-sparred frigate plows through the purple waters of the Gulf Stream. From her mastheads lookouts report a tiny speck upon the clear horizon. Sharp eyes distinguish it from the far-distant masses of cumulous clouds it counterfeits so well. Larger and larger it grows. It becomes, in fact, another frigate, equally large and beautiful. Across one of her topsails is painted a cryptic phrase, “Not the Little Belt.” This may have little meaning to us today. But in the year of our Lord 1812 it was full of grim significance. From her peak flutters a white ensign, barred with red, the proud emblem of the Royal Navy.
On the first ship there is a muffled roll of drums, a brief hurrying of men about the decks, a period of well-ordered activity—then quiet. “Silent is the path of duty for every well-drilled man.” Up to her mastheads creep balls of bunting. These at a quiet word of command break out into strips of red and white, stars of white against a blue field—battle ensigns of the United States. Constitution and Guerriere have met. A great moment of history is at hand.
The famous duel between these two frigates cannot, of course, be compared to the many sea battles between great fleets which have made naval history. But often small events have a far-reaching influence. This fight certainly was one of the most important and decisive single ship actions ever fought.
To show why this was so we must set the scene before we begin the play. To Great Britain, engaged in a death struggle with Napoleon, our little war was nothing more than a side show—of even less importance than the entry of a Balkan nation into the World War struggle. The chief concern of the British statesmen was that it might interfere with the supply of Wellington’s army in Spain—a task performed almost exclusively by American merchant vessels. It never occurred to them that our frigates would put to sea, or, if they should, that they could last long against the British cruisers which literally covered the Seven Seas. Theodore Roosevelt has stated that during the previous twenty years the Royal Navy had fought two hundred single-ship actions where there was approximate equality in power, i.e., neither ship had a superiority of over three to two. In these actions only five British ships had been captured. With such a record of success, it was only natural that the British captains should give scant consideration to our young and comparatively inexperienced Navy.
It is true that the Constitution was about 7 per cent larger than the Guerriere; that she carried 24-pounder guns against the 18-pounders in the British frigate, thus giving us a ten to seven superiority in weight of metal; and that her sides were very thick, stouter in fact than those of a British ship-of-the-line. But the British captains showed not the slightest concern over these American advantages, which at that time were not considered as such. In fact, it was thought that we had overweighted our ships with guns and timbers so that their speed and handiness were decreased. Captain Dacres of the Guerriere had challenged any American frigate to meet him in single combat. He had bet Captain Isaac Hull, so the story goes, a perfectly good hat that he would beat the Constitution. Even after the fight Dacres said he would be happy to fight him again with “a frigate of similar force to the Guerriere.” All the propaganda of our frigates being disguised ships-of-the-line was a much later concoction, disseminated after we had proved in three battles the advantage of our heavier guns and thicker sides, as well as the efficiency of our officers and sailors.
But now let the fight begin. For some hours the Guerriere kept away, trying to gain some advantage. But at 6:00 P.M. Dacres decided to end this useless maneuvering and get to business. He headed directly before the wind, decreased sail, and waited for the American frigate. Hull, increasing his sail power, came swiftly down upon him. Zero hour was about to strike. What could Yankee seamen do against the might of Britannia?
From the painting by Thomas Birch Constitution AND Guerriere
