“I assure you, gentlemen, that before the sun again rises and sets, you will be engaged in battle with the enemy, and it will not be with a single ship.”
Captain Stewart was a man subject to presentiments. He believed in them, and this one foreshadowed a combat such as he described and within the time-limit.
By noon of the next day (February 20, 1815) the Constitution had arrived within one hundred and eighty miles of Madeira, which then bore southwest-by-west. A light easterly breeze was drifting over the water, and the sky was cloudy, when at 1 o’clock in the afternoon a sail was seen a little on the port bow. Hauling the Constitution up to the point, Captain Stewart made all sail in chase, and an hour later discovered a second sail in company with, but beyond, the first. By this time the first ship’s hull was above the horizon, and because of false ports painted on her side she had somewhat of the look of a fifty-gun ship. When this was suggested by a lieutenant to Captain Stewart, however, he replied that she did not look as large as that, and then added:
“Be this as it may, you know I promised you a fight before the setting of to-day’s sun, and if we do not take it now that it is offered, we can scarcely have another chance. We must flog them when we catch them, whether she has one gun-deck or two!”
As it appeared later on, the first of these sails was the small British frigate Cyane, Captain Thomas Gordon Falcon, and the second the ship-rigged sloop-of-war Levant, Captain the Honorable George Douglas. Both were standing to the north and east with the wind coming in over the starboard bow, the smaller vessel being several miles away astern and in the lee of the larger one.
As the Constitution, with her studding-sails bellying aloft, came driving down the wind, the Cyane began signalling to her consort, and a little later (it was just after 4 o’clock) she up with her helm and, wearing around, spread all her sails to join the Levant.
The very beautiful chase that followed was prolonged, rather than shortened, by a freshening breeze, because under the pressure of its wide-spread canvas the Constitution’s main-royalmast broke off at the eyes of the top-gallant rigging, and for maybe fifteen minutes there was a lively time aloft in getting a new mast up and the canvas pulling once more.
She had held her own with the Cyane, even while crippled, and when all sail was once more spread the Constitution quickly overhauled the little British frigate and at 5 o’clock tried a few shots at her with the bow-chasers, all of which, however, fell short.
So the Cyane arrived unhurt alongside of her consort, the Levant, where both determined to fight the Yankee frigate, and stripped down to fighting canvas. A moment later they seemed to have thought it advisable to put off the combat until night should come, in order to get the advantage of manœuvring in the dark, and they once more up-helm and made sail. But they soon saw that the Constitution was upon them—that no delay was possible—and coming back to the starboard tack, with sails rap full, they formed in line, the little frigate Cyane about two hundred yards astern of the Levant, and so awaited the Constitution.
