After working all night the morning of the 20th of August saw the brave but unfortunate Guerrière made ready for her ocean grave. A slow match was applied to her magazine, and the Constitution bore away. About three miles off she hove to, while her officers and men, together with those of the doomed frigate, waited breathlessly for the explosion. As the fire gained headway, a dense volume of smoke formed over her. Some of her guns had been left shotted, and as the fire reached them, they began to go off, their sullen boom over the sea sounding like the death-knell of the gallant ship. Presently the flames reached the magazine. Streams of light, and a roar that seemed to shake the deep, followed; a mass of wreckage flew skyward; the Guerrière was no more.
There was great uneasiness felt on board the Constitution in regard to the large number of prisoners she carried. There were not enough handcuffs in the ship for the whole British crew, and the Americans felt a manly unwillingness to handcuff any of the men who had fought them so bravely. But it was noted that from the start the prisoners and their captors behaved well, the American and British sailors sitting around the fok'sle together, spinning yarns, exchanging tobacco, and chumming quite amicably.
Hull made for Boston, and on his arrival there was greeted with the wildest enthusiasm. The people were beside themselves with joy. Before this a British ship had been deemed invincible, and the knowledge that one of these great ships, with a captain and crew worthy of her, had struck to an American captain who had never before handled a frigate in action, was gratifying to the national pride. Hull, to his great discomfiture, was seized, as he stepped upon the dock, and carried on the shoulders of his admirers to his destination. A grand banquet was given to him and his officers in Faneuil Hall. Congress had a medal struck in his honor, and gave swords to the officers and a handsome sum in prize money to the crew. So great was Hull's popularity that the commissioners of the navy would not have taken the ship away from him, had he asked to retain her, but with true magnanimity he gave her up to Bainbridge. Hull knew that Bainbridge was justly entitled to her, and he was not the man to withhold anything from a brother in arms. Bainbridge therefore took her, and went out and captured the Java.[17]
Hull was actively, though not brilliantly, employed during the rest of the war, but did not get afloat again, as there were more captains than frigates. In 1813 he married a beautiful girl, the daughter of a clergyman. She had laughed at his pretensions when he was only a lieutenant; but after his great cruise she said, when she knew it would be repeated to Hull, "How delightful it must be to be the wife of a hero!" He took the hint, and soon after they were married.
Hull's subsequent career was one of honor and usefulness. He was a great hater of idleness, and often said, "Idleness will soon bring any man to ruin." He had fine commands, both ashore and afloat, and hoisted his broad pennant over several splendid squadrons. In 1836 he commanded the Mediterranean station. At Gibraltar he found his old friend Dacres, then an admiral, also in command of a squadron. The two met with delight. Admiral Dacres showed Commodore Hull the greatest attention, and at a splendid dinner given in his honor on the British flagship the admiral told Mrs. Hull, who was present, the story of the saving of his wife's Bible. Later, both of them having been detached from their squadrons, they were in Rome for a winter together, and were inseparable. Admiral Dacres was a remarkably tall, thin man, while Commodore Hull was somewhat the size and shape of a hogshead; and the wags had infinite amusement over the queer figures of these two heroic men.
On Commodore Hull's retirement he made his home in Philadelphia. He always wore his uniform, and as he walked the streets every hat was doffed to him, and the salute was courteously returned. The end came in February, 1843. His last words were, "I strike my flag,"—words that he had never before had occasion to utter. He was a devout Christian, and during his whole life he honestly lived up to the requirements of a just and pious manhood.
CHARLES STEWART.
In the splendid galaxy of naval officers of the early part of the century each one seems to have gained some special distinction, equally brilliant, but differing entirely from any other. Thus, as Hull made the most remarkable escape on record, and Decatur succeeded in the most daring enterprise, so Stewart may be credited with the most superb seamanship in the one great fight that fell to his lot, for with one ship, the glorious Constitution, he fought two vessels at the same time, raking them repeatedly, without once being raked himself, and in the end forcing the surrender of both his antagonists.