When the cheers had subsided, Hull called out, "My lads, you have made a brig of that craft;" to which the sailors shouted back, "We'll make a sloop of her soon, sir;" and in a little while the foremast went by the board. The Guerrière then swung round, and, being almost unmanageable, got into a terrible position for raking. Her officers and men fought with undiminished valor, and when the ensign was shot away, another one was nailed to the stump of the mizzen-mast. On the Constitution the halyards were shot away, and the flag became entangled in the splinters of a shattered yard. A sailor sprang aloft and nailed it to the mast, and both ships continued the action without thought of surrender.
The Guerrière, however, was plainly getting the worst of it. Most of her fire was directed to the masts and spars of the Constitution, while several shot that struck the frigate's hull rebounded into the water. At this the sailors cheered.
"Huzza!" they cried. "Her sides are made of iron! Huzza for Old 'Ironsides'!"
Then some one on the Constitution, pointing to the captain, cried,—
"Hull her, men! Hull her!"
The sailors, catching the pun, roared out,—
"Hull her! Hull her! Yes, we'll hull her!"
Hull, who had grown very stout, and was short withal, was standing on an ammunition box, while shot flew thick and fast around him. Leaning over to give an order, his knee breeches, which were very tight, burst from knee to hip. The men shouted with laughter; but it was no time to repair such damages, and Hull finished the battle with his trousers hanging in rags.
It was not to last long. The mainmast soon followed the other masts, and in thirty minutes from the time the Constitution's first broadside had been fired, the Guerrière lay, a helpless hulk, rolling in the trough of the sea, that washed into her shattered main-deck ports.