As the time passed, the strain upon them became greater. The Captain noticed that the men were flinching more and more, and sternly ordered them to stand to their posts until they got the word, and then to aim at the hull and fire deliberately, but to load swiftly. And the men obeyed that order.
Reaching the vantage point where every gun would bear, the order to fire was given, and echoing from the crash of the balls in the enemy’s hull came such shrieks and cries as told of the havoc wrought there.
Thereafter until 12.30 o’clock that night the crew of the Constellation loaded as quickly as possible and fired as deliberately as if but practising with the battery at a target. So swift was their work that the guns got heated, and men crawled out the ports and dipped up water with buckets to cool them off. But at midnight the fire of the enemy, that had been slacking away, died out entirely. The victory seemed won—it was, in fact, won over and again, for the French flag had been lowered twice during the fight (some historians say three times), but the Constellation people did not see it because of the smoke, and, under the circumstances, the Frenchmen felt compelled to fight on. But when they could fight no more and victory was assured for the American flag, the captain of the Constellation found that her main standing rigging had been wholly shot away. He called all hands to send up preventers, but before the work could be done the mast fell, carrying Midshipman James Jarvis and several men overboard, all but one of whom were lost. Jarvis might have escaped before the mast went, but chose to remain at his post and face death.
Medal Awarded to Thomas Truxton.
Having lost her mainmast, the Constellation was so badly crippled that the enemy slipped away in the night to Curaçao. She was the Vengeance, Capt. A. M. Pitot. She carried fifty-two guns, throwing 1,115 pounds of shot, while the Constellation at this time carried fifty guns, throwing 826 pounds of shot. The crew of the Vengeance numbered 330 to 310 on the Constellation. She lost fifty killed and 110 wounded, while the Constellation lost fourteen killed and twenty-five wounded. Her ability to escape was hard luck for the Yankees, for she was carrying a very valuable cargo, including a lot of specie.
If there is any one feature of this battle better worth remembering than any other it is the escape of the Vengeance after she was twice whipped—her escape through continuing the fight. For it proves, as John Paul Jones proved in the Bonhomme Richard, that a ship is never hopelessly defeated until she is sunk or wholly disabled.
Another interesting battle was that between the Boston, Capt. John Little, and the Berceau, Capt. André Senez, who was, during the American Revolution, a midshipman under Count D’Estaing in the operations that enabled Washington to complete the capture of Cornwallis. The Boston was a larger ship, with more men and more and heavier guns than the enemy, but when she ranged up within ten yards of the Berceau and Captain Little demanded that she surrender, the valiant Senez replied “Never!” This was at about 4 o’clock in the afternoon of October 12, 1800. The Boston opened fire, and with cries of “Vive la Republique!” the Frenchmen replied, and so effective was their fire and so determined was their commander that the battle raged for twenty-two hours, save for the intermissions during which the Boston had to haul off and repair rigging. But at 2 P.M. of the 13th the Berceau was practically shot to pieces and she had to surrender.