XVII
THE “CONSTITUTION,” THE “CYANE,” AND THE “LEVANT”
[February 20th, 1815]
MEDAL PRESENTED BY CONGRESS TO CAPTAIN CHARLES STEWART
Charles Stewart was a Philadelphian. He was born on the 28th day of July, 1778, shortly after the evacuation of the city by the British. His mother was left a widow when he was but two years old. Overcoming many hardships, Mrs. Stewart managed to support herself and her large family of eight children during the troublous times of the Revolution. At the age of thirteen Charles entered the merchant service as a cabin-boy, and speedily began to show that he had in him the material for making an officer.
At the age of twenty he was in command of a vessel in the Indian trade, but shortly after he attained this rank he accepted a commission as lieutenant in the navy of the United States. Stewart’s able handling of the little schooner Experiment, of 12 guns, on several occasions brought him to the attention of the country, and his conduct in the Mediterranean won for him the praise of his superiors and the admiration of the service. He was a fine-looking, energetic man, who possessed a manner that is said to have been most fascinating; but, like all of his school, he was above everything else a fighting man.
In the fall of the year 1814, after the repulse of the British at Norfolk, Captain Stewart, who at the beginning of the war had been in command of the 36-gun frigate Constellation, was given the post then most desired above all others in our navy—that of commander of “Old Ironsides.”
After undergoing some repairs in the navy-yard, the Constitution, with a veteran crew, sailed from the port of Boston and proceeded southward. For some time she hung about the Bermudas, waiting in vain for an encounter; thence she sailed away for the coasts of Surinam, Berbice, and Demerara; cruised to windward of the island of Barbadoes, St. Vincent, Martinique, off St. Kitt’s, St. Eustatius, Porto Rico, and Santa Cruz, and succeeded in capturing and destroying the Picton, of 16 guns; a merchant ship of 10 guns; the brig Catherine, 10 guns; and an armed schooner, the Phoenix. But no foe was seen that was worthy of her mettle, and it appeared that bad luck was in the breezes.
At this time the Constitution must have presented a peculiar appearance while under way; her sails were the same she had carried in her cruises under Hull and Bainbridge, and the shot-holes made by the Guerrière and the Java were plain to view, like the honorable scars of a veteran. Patched and thread bare, her canvas was in no condition to stand a blow or to hold the wind. In those days the Constitution was a marked vessel in many senses. In view of the reputation she had earned, there were no frigates of her class that appeared to seek her out, and it was not considered a disgrace to avoid a meeting with “the dangerous nondescript,” as the British press had labelled her. If the fact was once ascertained what vessel it was that carried that high freeboard and those brown patched sails, His Majesty’s commanders generally showed a tenderness that their reputations would hardly lead one to expect. In the Mona Passage, for instance, Captain Stewart chased, but failed to come up with, the British frigate La Pique, and on two separate occasions he tried to entice the enemy to meet him by unfurling at first sight the enormous flag that also distinguished the Constitution above the other frigates in our service, but all to no purpose; and in March Stewart determined to return to the United States in order to refit completely. But he was not to reach home without an adventure.
Probably no vessel in the world had so many narrow escapes from capture as had the Constitution; only masterly seamanship had kept her from being taken.