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Captain John Crane, 1800 - 1815

<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> DESTRUCTION OF THE GUERRIÈRE BY THE CONSTITUTION.—CAPTAIN HULL'S WAGER.—HOW I TRICKED A BRITISH CAPTAIN.—DAVID'S RUSE.—FORTUNE FROWNS. Both of them kept firing, but doing little damage, as they began when they were out of effective range of each other's guns. But as they drew nearer, Hull endeavoring to lay his ship alongside of the Guerrière, the shots of the latter began to tell, the Constitution being struck several times. Hull gave orders to withhold his fire, and he held it so long that Lieutenant Morris, his second in command, came and asked permission to begin. As he did so, the bows of the American ship were opposite the quarter of the Englishman. Hull answered, "Not yet," to the request of Lieutenant Morris. The ships drew nearer and nearer to each other, and Morris repeated his request. "Not yet," said Hull again very quietly. When the Constitution had reached a point where his whole broadside could take effect, Hull, who had[253] been walking the quarter-deck rather silently, suddenly bent himself twice to the deck, and shouted, "Now, boys, pour it into them!" There was hardly a second of time between the order and the opening of the guns of the Constitution. The guns were double shotted with round and grape shot, and the effect was terrible. The concussion of the broadside was so great as to cause the Guerrière to keel over as if a squall had struck her, the ships being only half a pistol-shot apart. It is said that those in the cockpit of the Guerrière were thrown from one side of the room to the other, and before they could adjust themselves the blood came streaming down upon them, and very speedily the place was filled with wounded men. Hull's broadside was quickly followed by another, and for twelve or fifteen minutes each vessel was firing away as rapidly as possible. At the end of fifteen minutes the mizzenmast of the Guerrière was shot away, her mainyard was in slings, her sails were ripped and torn in every direction, and her hull was riddled from one end to the other. The Constitution had suffered very little damage; a few holes through her sails, and several round shot in her hull, completed the list of her injuries. The Guerrière brought up in the wind as her mizzenmast gave way, when the Constitution went slowly ahead pour[254]ing in a tremendous fire, and luffed short around the bows of the Guerrière to prevent being raked. Then she ran foul of the Guerrière, dashing her bowsprit into her enemy's larboard quarter. The cabin of the Constitution was set on fire by the forward guns of the Guerrière, but the fire was soon put out. Both parties now attempted to board; the English boarders were ready first, and the three officers who led them sprang upon the Constitution's taffrail, where they met a severe fire. Two were seriously wounded, and one was killed; and just then the sails of the Constitution filled, and she separated from her antagonist. The Constitution hauled off a short distance, secured her own masts, rove new rigging, and at sunset wore around to take a favorable position for raking the Guerrière. The foremast of the latter fell just as the Constitution separated from her, and in falling it carried the mainmast with it. You will remember that the mizzenmast had already fallen, and so the Guerrière lay helpless on the water. The Union Jack had been kept flying from the stump of one of the masts, but as the Constitution came around to renew the fight, the flag was lowered, and a boat was sent from the American ship to take possession of the prize. Captain Dacres, the commander of the Guerrière, appeared at the gangway, and made formal[255] surrender of his ship when the American boat arrived there. Lieutenant Read, the American officer, then said,— "Commodore Hull's compliments, and wishes to know whether you need the assistance of a surgeon or surgeon's mate." Dacres answered, "Well, I should suppose you had on board your own ship business enough for all your medical officers." Read replied, "Oh, no; we have only seven wounded, and they were dressed half an hour ago." There's a story I've heard which is too good to be left out, that Captain Hull and Captain Dacres were personally acquainted, having met frequently at Baltimore and other places before the breaking out of the war. The last time they met previous to the battle was in Annapolis at a dinner-party, where they fell into conversation about the merits of their respective ships. Hull said to Dacres,— "You'd better look out for yourself if we have war and I ever catch you in the Constitution." Dacres laughed, and offered to make a heavy wager as to the result of any encounter. Hull declined a large bet, and it finally settled down to a wager of a hat. When Captain Dacres went on board the Constitution after the defeat of the Guerrière he offered his sword to Captain Hull. The latter said,— [256] "No, no; keep your sword. I won't take it from any man who knows so well how to use it; but I'll trouble you for that hat." It was nearly dark when the battle was over. The Constitution lay about the wreck of the Guerrière all night, and at daylight in the morning the officer in charge of the prize hailed to say that she had four feet of water in her hold, and was in danger of sinking. Hull immediately sent all his boats to bring off the prisoners and their effects. The work occupied the entire forenoon; then the prize-crew was recalled, and the Guerrière was set on fire. She blew up about three o'clock in the afternoon, and that was the end of her career. The Constitution steered immediately for Boston, where she was received with the wildest demonstrations of joy. There was great enthusiasm all over the country as the news of the victory was spread abroad. It gave the Americans great confidence in their little navy, and made easier the work of securing appropriations from Congress for building new ships. A feeling had prevailed among many people that our vessels were no match for the enemy's; and as for the English, they believed any British ship could conquer an American one with twice its number of guns and men. The joy on the American side of the Atlantic was[257] about equal to the depression in England. The London Times, in speaking of the event, said that it was the first time in history that the English flag had been struck on the high seas to anything like an equal force. On my second voyage in the Marguerite I kept away to the south and east, in the hope of falling in with a home-bound East Indiaman who had not heard of the declaration of war. A ship of this sort would be a very rich prize, better by far than was the Camperdown, as her cargo would consist of silks, spices, and other goods in which much value is packed in a small space. My hopes were realized, as I found just such a ship, and took her with very little resistance. She had a large crew and several passengers; and as I had already weakened my force by the prize-crew required for a Jamaica brig, taken three days before, I decided to accompany my new prize to New York. The crew of the Indiaman filled my hold with prisoners; and as she required a considerable number of men to work her, it would have been impossible for me to spare another prize-crew, even had there been a dozen ships to be had for the work of taking them. My prize was the Charlotte; and compared with her the Marguerite resembled a terrier alongside of a great mastiff, or a mastiff standing near a big cart-horse. She was not prepared for fighting to any ex[258]tent, as she carried only four light guns and some cutlasses and muskets; quite sufficient for keeping off Malay pirates, but of little use against an American privateer. I permitted the passengers to remain on board with their cook and private servants, the latter being natives of India, and quite indifferent to what happened around them as long as their own skins and heads did not come to harm. We kept in company, my orders being very positive in that particular, and I had arranged points of meeting in case we became separated by bad weather, or for any other reason. Luckily the weather was favorable, and we went along in fine style; I was already counting the days, and almost the hours, when I should reach New York and bring my rich prize to anchor off the Battery, at the point where the Marguerite lay on her previous return. We were within three hundred miles of New York when one afternoon I sighted a sail to windward, and bearing down in our direction. It was a big sail, large enough for a man-of-war; and as it came nearer I made out that it was a thirty-eight-gun frigate, with a very ugly look about her, and the British ensign waving in the wind. Here was a pretty mess of things! But I had thought of an emergency of this very sort, and laid my plans accordingly. Now was the time to see how they would work. [259] The Charlotte and the Marguerite were running with the wind on the larboard beam, the Charlotte leading by about a mile. I hoisted the American ensign, while the Charlotte showed no colors. The Marguerite gained on the Charlotte slowly but steadily, while the frigate was running with the wind in her favor, and bearing down so as to come disagreeably near to both, unless a diversion could be made. As I drew up within what might possibly be effective range of the Charlotte, I fired at her with our midship gun. The shot struck two or three hundred yards astern of her, plowed up the water; and a few moments later I gave her another gun, with the same result. My intention was to give the impression that an English merchant ship was being pursued by an American privateer. The Englishman was evidently doing his best to escape, but was in danger of being overhauled by the American, which was a better sailer. I had the satisfaction of seeing that my ruse was successful, as the frigate changed her course so as to cut off the privateer and enable the merchantman to escape. The Charlotte hauled into the wind, while the Marguerite eased off and ran to leeward to escape falling into the jaws of the frigate. The frigate followed the schooner; and in order to[260] encourage her I put out drags at the Marguerite's sides so as to hold her back sufficiently to enable the frigate to gain on us. We were about four miles apart when this performance began, and to all appearances the frigate gained half a mile an hour on the schooner. Thus we ran away to leeward, while the Charlotte was hauling into the wind and getting more and more out of harm's way every minute. Before sunset she was barely a speck on the horizon, and away to windward; the frigate was within about two miles of the Marguerite, too far off to do any damage with her guns. I took in one of the drags, and thus enabled the schooner to increase her speed; but I didn't do it until feeling sure there was no possible chance of the frigate turning to follow the Charlotte. As the sun went down and night began stealing over the water, the distance was about the same as it had been for an hour; the frigate was gaining a little, but not much. I thought it best to humor the captain, and so kept the other drag in place till night had fallen completely, and neither ship was any longer visible to the other. Then I took off the last drag and changed our course. We steered by the stars, not keeping any light in the binnacle; and I gave orders that every glim should be dowsed, and not a spark of fire vis[261]ible on any part of the schooner during the night. When morning came, the frigate was nowhere in sight. I flattered myself that I had tricked her neatly and saved my very valuable prize from recapture. So it proved, as the Charlotte turned up at the place fixed for our meeting; and in due time I reached New York with my prize, and had the pleasure of seeing her safely anchored not far from the Battery, and the Marguerite lying near her. And what added to my pleasure was the fact that the Hyacinth was at anchor close by; and one of the first men to come on board was my old friend, David Taylor! He had just arrived from a successful cruise, and was in the best of spirits. His prizes were all good ones, though none of them was equal in value to my Indiaman, whose cargo was one of the best ever brought into New York. I told him of the trick that I played on the frigate, and it amused him very much. Then he told how he had an experience of very much the same kind, and I will give it in his words as nearly as I remember them. "I had spoken an American merchantman one day," said David, "and a few hours later fell in with an English sloop-of-war. She was on the same course as the American, but had not yet sighted her, and I thought I would do a good turn to my countryman[262] by leading the English ship out of the way. She was not a fast sailer, and I could have shown my heels to her at once, so that she would have given up all thought of chasing me, but I put out drags just as you did and let her overhaul me. "The old proverb says that a stern chase is a long chase, and so it was in this instance. I led him a lively dance, letting him come up almost within shooting distance before taking off my drags and giving the Hyacinth her head. Then we walked away so fast that he must have been puzzled to make out how we increased our speed without putting on more canvas, which we couldn't do, as we had everything set that was possible to pile on her. We had a good deal of fun on board about the performance; and if I ever meet the captain of that American merchantman I shall tell him he owes me a new hat." The owners of the Marguerite greeted me as heartily as when I returned from my first cruise, and congratulated me on my success in the latest venture. It was arranged that I should go to sea again as soon as the schooner had been newly provisioned, watered, and made ready for the occupation which seemed to be as congenial for her as for her officers and crew. I retained all my officers and nearly all my men. The Marguerite was adding to her reputation as a[263] lucky craft; and when a ship's luck is in your favor, there's no difficulty in getting all the men you want. Soon as I could do so, I went to the house where I had left the Grahams. To my disappointment I found that they had left New York and gone to England, Captain Graham having been exchanged and allowed to depart. An English transport had arrived under a flag of truce, bringing a considerable number of American prisoners taken from ships captured by the fleet of Admiral Broke, who was cruising along our coast. On her departure she carried away all the British prisoners who had been exchanged or paroled. Captain Graham refused to go without his family, and, consequently, room was made for them on board the transport. Her destination was Plymouth or Portsmouth, they were uncertain at which point they should land, so Captain Graham said in a letter that he left for me in the hands of the keeper of the boarding-house where they had been staying. He gave me an address in England where he could always be reached, and in closing his letter he added, "If you should ever be in England, either in peace or war, don't fail to find us or send to us. It may be in my power to serve you some day, and you may hold to the assurance that I shall do so whenever possible." I carefully noted his address, and not only wrote it down, but committed it to memory. "Who knows,"[264] I said to myself, "but that the fortune of war may find me in England, a prisoner; and should this ever happen, the friendship of the Grahams will be very greatly to my advantage." Each time that I came into port I wrote to my parents and friends at home, told how I was prospering, and gave them practical evidence of my success in life by sending money sufficient to care for the entire family and place them above want, but not enough to induce the younger members of it to lead lives of idleness. What I was I had become through industry, and I had no notion of encouraging indolence in any of my brothers and sisters. There is an old saying among New England farmers that "Everybody must hoe his own row;" and out of it has grown an injunction to each one of us in the emphatic though homely phrase, "Paddle your own canoe." Perhaps none of the members of my family were inclined to live at the expense of others, but I took the precaution to keep them out of temptation to do so. Cruise after cruise went the Marguerite from New York, and each voyage she was successful, though less so as time went on than during the first few months of the war. Altogether, I took twenty-two prizes with the schooner; three of them were re-captured by British war-ships, and one was lost in a storm on the coast of Long Island. The rest got in[265] safely, and were sold with their cargoes. My share of the prize-money did not make me rich beyond the dreams of avarice, as Dr. Johnson says; but it was enough to make me comfortable for the rest of my life, and to share my comfort with a wife and children. As the year 1814 opened, I began to think it was time for me to retire from the sea, and tempt Fortune no longer. She is said to be a fickle jade, and perhaps would turn from me when I least expected it. She gave me a warning of what she might do by getting me into several predicaments from which it was little less than a miracle that the Marguerite escaped capture. Great numbers of British war-ships were hovering on our coast and swarming on the ocean; and on half a dozen and more occasions it was only the superior sailing qualities of the schooner, or some tact of my own, that saved her. Once we were surrounded by a fleet of five British war-ships; the wind had fallen almost to a calm, and capture seemed inevitable. The nearest of the enemy's vessels had got out their boats to carry us by boarding, and I was about to order our flag lowered to avoid helpless bloodshed, when suddenly I saw in the distance the waters rippled by a breeze, and a dark cloud which betokened a squall. <hr class="chap" /> [266] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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