Sir James Richard Dacres.
From an English engraving published in 1811.
Read continued:
“Commodore Hull’s compliments, and wishes to know whether you need the assistance of a surgeon or surgeon’s mate?”
“Well, I should suppose you had on board your own ship business enough for all your medical officers,” replied Dacres.
“Oh, no,” said Read, blithely, “we had only seven wounded, and they were dressed half an hour ago.”
The end of it was that Captain Dacres was carried on board the Constitution. He had been wounded, but was able to climb the rope-ladder to her deck, and there he found Captain Hull awaiting him. It was a notable meeting in more ways than one—physically among the rest. For Hull was short, rotund, and jolly—very much like our portraits of John Bull—while Dacres was tall, lank, and serious—not much different from a typical New Englander. Hull helped the beaten captain to the deck, saying heartily: “Dacres, give me your hand, I know you are hurt.” A moment later Captain Dacres made a formal offer of his sword, but Hull refused it.
“No, no,” he said, “I will not take a sword from one who knows so well how to use it; but I’ll trouble you for that hat.”
This apparently incongruous remark was due to the fact that when Dacres had met Hull socially before the war he had offered to bet a hat that the Guerrière would whip the Constitution if they ever met, and Hull accepted the bet.
It was on the afternoon of August 21, 1812, that the wreck of the Guerrière was fired and blown to the four winds of heaven by the triumphant Yankees, and from that day to this the naval writers of both England and America have been trying to tell how it was that the Guerrière was so badly beaten in so short a time. A half-dozen different explanations may be found in the books of any great nation, and all are very much alike, even though written by partisans. They give the details of the battle, how the ships approached each other; how they veered and wore; how the crews cheered; how they fired the guns; how the splinters flew; how the blood flowed from the scuppers—of one ship; how with great reluctance the one surrendered. Then with one accord the writers set to work to examine the hulk of the Guerrière. Was it sound or rotten? They counted the guns. How many did each ship have in a broadside? They measured the calibres of the guns. They weighed the projectiles. “Why, blow me, sir! The Constitution had long twenty-fours to our eighteens!” “All right, but by gosh, our shot were seven per cent. under weight!” They considered the gunpowder chemically to see whether or not it had deteriorated on the Guerrière. They counted the crews. They considered every little detail.