FIGHTING STEWART
An old sailor sat on the _Constitution's_ forecastle, with his backagainst the carriage of one of the forward carronades. He was skilfullyunwinding a skein of spun yarn which he held over his two bare feet,while at the same time he rolled the ball deftly with his stubby,jointless fingers. A young boy, not over fourteen years of age, laysprawled flat on the deck beside him, his chin supported in the hollowsof his two hands, his elbows on the deck.
"It comes all along o' drinkin' rum, says I," went on the old sailor,continuing some tale he had been telling. "That, I claims, is thereason for many unfortunate doin's; and that is why all them men I wastellin' you about was eat by the cannibals."
"I don't see as it made any difference," broke in the boy, "exceptperhaps in the taste. If they were bent on going where they did, they'dhave been eaten anyhow, wouldn't they?"
"As to that," returned the old sailor, "I contradict ye. Rum sometimesmakes a fellow want to fight when it's a tarnel sight braver to run;that is, upon some occashuns."
"Some folks get so they can't even wiggle, let alone run," observed theboy. "I saw our bo'sun----"
"Don't speak uncharitable of your neighbors, son," observed the oldman. "All I can say is that I don't take no stock in grog; therebybeing' the peculiarest man in the service, I dessay. I've seen lessons,as I was tellin' ye. You see, all those friends of mine would beenlivin' to-day if they hadn't taken on cargoes of that thar Africanwine. Yes, they got to suppose that they could lick about twenty timestheir weight of black niggers, and so they started in, and never comeback. But I, not drinkin' nothin', jes' kep' by the boat, an' when themsavages come after me, I warn't there. Had a terrible time gettin' offto the ship all alone; but I done it, an' thar's the best temperancelecture I know of. I got a hull lot of texts out of the Good Book; butmost people won't listen to 'em; leastways on board of this ship."
"I reckon you are the only man what don't take his grog here," said theboy.
"That I be," returned the old sailor, "and, by Sal, I'm proud of it!'No, thankee, messmate,' says I when it comes around, 'I don't needthat to keep my chronometer goin'.' Then they all laughs generally, andcalls me a fresh-water moss-back. Some day 'an I'll git even with 'em."
Old Renwick, although somewhat of a butt of the crew, was respectednevertheless because of his being a good seaman, and because he alsohad made a record for himself in the old days during the war withFrance and the adventurous times with Preble in the Mediterranean. Hewas a great favorite with Captain Stewart, then the Commander of theold frigate, and by him he had been promoted to the position ofquartermaster. He would never have succeeded in qualifying for theposition of boatswain or for any higher grade than that which he nowheld, for the simple reason that the old fellow was too lenient in hisdiscipline and too ready to condole with the faults of others exceptwhere rum was concerned.
It was Renwick's greatest delight to secure a solitary and attentivelistener and spin a long yarn to him. He spoke without the usualprofane punctuation,--the habit of most seamen,--and when off watch heread his Bible most assiduously. He had had many adventures in hisforty-four years at sea, and his memory being a most retentive one, itrequired little excuse for him to start on a long mental peregrinationthrough the laden fields of his memory.
Many were the occasions when the boy found time to become Renwick'ssolitary auditor. The lad was bright, and this was but his secondvoyage at sea. He was one of those children who, although born inlandand away from the smell of the ocean, still must inherit from theirancestors the keen desire to seek adventures and see strangecountries--he dreamed of ships and the deep. Once firmly rooted, thisfeeling never dies; despite hardships, wrecks, and disasters, thesailor returns to his calling.
The boy had never seen an action. But he had rejoiced with the rest atAmerica's many victories; he had joined with the crowd that hadfollowed the parading sailors in New York after Hull's great victory,and he had peeped in at the window of the hotel upon the occasion ofthe dinner given to Decatur and to Bainbridge and to the _Guerriere's_conqueror--all this while on a visit to the city from his home in themountains of New Jersey. And thus inflamed with the idea, he had runaway to sea, and had made his first voyage, eight or ten monthsprevious to the opening of the story, in a little privateer that had anuneventful cruise and returned to port after taking two small prizesthat had offered no resistance. His entering on board the_Constitution_ had been with the permission of his parents, who sawthat the only way to hold him from following his bent would be to keephim at home forever under their watchful eyes.
A great war-ship is a small floating world, and, like the world, thedangers that beset a young man starting alone on his career are many.There are the good and the bad, the leaders and the led; the people wholift up others, and those who lean. It was rather well for the boy thathe had met with old Renwick and conceived a friendship for him. Fromthe old sailor the lad had learned much. He was an expert at tyingknots already, and he had learned to hand, reef, and steer after afashion on board the privateer schooner. The royal yards on aman-of-war are always manned by boys, because of their agility andlightness. This boy was a born topman; he exulted in the sense offreedom that comes to one when laying out upon a swaying yard; thebounding exhilaration of the heart, the exciting quickening of thepulse as the great mass describes arcs of huge circles as the vesselfar below swings and rises through the seas.
The attention of the officers had been called to him more than once,and if there was a ticklish job aloft above the cross-trees, the boywas sent to perform it. On one occasion he had excited a reprimand forriding down a backstay head foremost, the First Lieutenant observing,and speaking to him thus: "While that would do for a circus, it wasn'tthe thing for shipboard." But he was a perfect monkey with the ropes,and nothing delighted him better than scampering up the shrouds, orshinning to the main truck to disengage the pennant halliards. He usedto sing, in his shrill, high voice, even when struggling to get in thestiffened canvas in a gale.
On the 20th of February (the year was 1815) the First Lieutenant madethe early morning inspection of the ship. He had hoped that the cloudsand thickness that had prevailed for a few days would disappear, for itseemed as if for once "Old Ironsides" was pursued by the demon of badluck in the way of weather. At one P.M., after a fruitless attempt tocatch a glimpse of the sun for a noonday sight, the clouds broke awayand the breeze freshened. The boy and his companions jumped at theorders to "shorten sail and take in the royals." Quickly they climbedthe shrouds, passed one great yard after another in their upwardjourney, and came at last to the royals. The boy was first. He lookeddown at the narrow deck below him, and at the curved surfaces of thebillowing sails. It seemed as if his weight alone would suffice tooverturn the vessel. The lightness and delicacy of the entire fabricwere never so apparent to him. He could see his companions crawling up,their faces lifted, and panting from their exertions. The sunlight castdark blue shadows on the sails below. Two great ridges of foamstretched out from the _Constitution's_ bows. The taut sheets hadbegun to hum under the stress of the increasing breeze. The boy beganto chant his strange song--a song of pure exhilaration.
With so many light kites flying, something might carry away at anymoment, however, and he heard the officer of the deck shout up for themto hasten. Then he let his eyes rove toward the horizon line as he tookhis position in the bunt.
Far away against the sky where the clouds shut down upon the water, hesaw a speck of white! Leaning back from the yard, he drew a longbreath; those on deck stopped their work for an instant, the officertook a step sideways in order the better to see the masthead.
"Sail ho!" clear and distant had come down from the royal yard.
"Where away?" called the officer, making a trumpet of his hands.
"Two points off the larboard bow, sir," was the reply.
"Clew up and clew down," was now the order. The steersman climbed thewheel, and with a great bone in her teeth the _Constitution_ hauled herwind and made sail
in chase of the distant stranger. In a quarter of anhour she was made out to be a ship, and then came the cry a secondtime: "Sail ho!" There was another vessel ahead of the first! A half anhour more, and both were discovered to be ships standing close-hauled,with their starboard tacks on board. At eight bells in the afternoonthey were in plain sight from the deck, little signal flags creeping upand down their halliards--ship fashion, they were holding consultation.Then the weathermost bore up for her consort, who was about ten milesdistant and to leeward; and crowding on everything she could carryagain, the _Constitution_ boiled along after her. The lower, topmast,topgallant, and royal studding-sails were thrown out, and hand overhand she overhauled them.
The boy was aloft again. He had caught the fever of excitement thateven the old hands felt, as they saw that the magazine was open andthat powder and shot were being dealt out for the divisions. Thehalf-ports to leeward had to be kept closed to prevent the water fromflooding the decks.
The boy stayed after the other youngsters had descended. He could feelthe royal mast swaying and whipping like a fishing-rod--the stays wereas tight as the strings of a fiddle. They felt like iron to the grasp;they had narrowed under the tension. The wind in the deep sails belowplayed a sonorous bass to the high treble of their singing. The shipwas murmuring like a hive, now and then creaking as she lurched underthe pressure.
How it happened the boy never knew; but as suddenly as winking therecame a report as of a cannon aloft; the main royal, upon the yard ofwhich he was leaning, flew off, and caught by the tacks and sheets,fell down across the yard below. The main-topgallant mast had beencarried clean away. No one, not even the boy himself, knew how it alloccurred. Perhaps he had laid hold of one of the reef points. Perhapshe had made a lucky jump. But there he lay in the bight made by thefolds of the royal, softly resting against the bosom of the sail below,unhurt, but slightly dizzy. From the hamper of wreckage above hung oneof the loosened clew-lines. The end of it reached down to thecross-trees. Reaching forth, the young topman tested it, and seeing itwould hold, emerged from his hanging nest, and swinging free for aninstant, managed with his monkey-like powers to lay hold of a stay andreach the shrouds. There was a cheer from below, as he sprang to thedeck, and this time there was no reprimand.
The loss of her upper sails appeared to impede the speed of the frigatebut little. It would not be long now before the bow-chasers might beexpected to begin. The men were mustered on the deck. Along came thestewards and the mess-men with the customary grog.
The officers all this time had been busy surveying the two ships. Anhour ago they had been pronounced to be English.
Old Renwick grumbled as he watched the men pour down the half pannikinof scalding liquor.
"Well, here's to us," chuckled a tall, red-nosed sailor, emptying thestuff down his throat as if it had been spring water. "Here's to us,and every stick in the old ship."
"We ought to get double allowance," put in another man just before itwas his turn to take his portion. "There are two of 'em to fight, whichmakes me twice as thirsty. Here's to the best thing in theworld,--grog."
Quartermaster Renwick did not like to hear all this, and overcome by asudden impulse, he stepped out from behind the bitts. There were twobuckets full of the strong-smelling drink resting on the deck. With asweep of his foot he upset them both! A howl of rage went up from allsides. One of the men loosened a belaying-pin and advancedthreateningly. The old sailor stood his ground.
"Avast this 'ere swillin', lads," he said; "there shall be no Dutchcourage on board this ship." He folded his arms and stood looking atthe angry crowd. The First Lieutenant had observed the wholeoccurrence, and immediately gave the order to beat to quarters. Theboy, thinking that his old friend was about to be attacked, had jumpedto his side. But his station in action was on the forecastle, where hewas powder-monkey for the two forward guns.
The call to quarters and the rolling of the drum had stopped anytrouble that might have arisen owing to the quartermaster's suddenaction, but the men were surly, and it would have been hard for him ifthey could have reached him unseen.
Every second now brought the _Constitution_ closer to the enemy. Nevercould the boy forget his sensations as he saw the gunners bend down andaim the forward gun on the larboard bow. The smoke from the shot blewback through the port. The gun next to it now spoke, but both ballsfell short, and neither of the ships replied.
They were both ably handled, and their commanders had now reachedsome understanding as to the conduct of the action; for when the_Constitution_ was yet a mile's distance from them they passed nearenough to one another to speak through the trumpet.
The beginning of an action at sea, before the blood is heated by thesight of carnage and the ear accustomed to the strange sounds and theindifference to danger has grown over the consciousness of self, is themost exciting moment. There is a sense of unreality in the appearanceof the enemy. If he is coming bravely up to fight, there is no hatredfelt for him. Men grow intensely critical at such moments, strange tosay. They admire their opponent's skill, although they are inclined tosmile exultantly if they perceive he is making missteps. CaptainStewart and his officers, grouped at the side, were discussing calmlythe probable designs of the enemy.
"Egad! They are hauling by the wind, and they are going to wait forus," said Stewart.
"They are not going to run, at any event," observed the FirstLieutenant. "They are tidy-looking sloops of war, sir!"
In five minutes both the English vessels had made all sail,close-hauled by the wind, with the plain intention of trying tooutpoint the frigate.
"No, you don't, my friends," remarked Stewart to himself. "Not if Iknow my ship."
The crew, who were watching the oncomers, shared his sentiment, forthey knew that the _Constitution_ was not to be beaten on that point ofsailing; and the strangers soon noticed this, also, for they shortenedsail and formed on a line at about half a cable's length apart. Not ashot had been fired since the two bow guns had given challenge, but nowthe time had come, the huge flag of the _Constitution_ went up to thepeak, and in answer both ships hoisted English ensigns. Scarce threehundred yards now separated the antagonists. The English ships hadstarted cheering. It was the usual custom of the Anglo-Saxon to go intobattle that way. Quartermaster Renwick called for three cheers from the_Constitution's_ men, but they had not forgotten, at least some ofthem, his upsetting of the grog. His unpopularity at that presentmoment was evident, for few answered the call, and thus silently themen at the guns waited for the word to fire.
The boy was half-way down the companion ladder when it came. There wasa great jar the whole vessel's length. A deafening explosion, and thefight was on!
For fifteen minutes it was hammer and tongs. Broadside after broadsidewas exchanged, and then it was noticed that the English had begun toslacken their return; and now they suddenly were silent. A strangephenomenon here took place. As all the combatants were close-hauled andthe wind was light, a great bank of opaque sulphurous smoke hadgathered all about them. The _Constitution_ ceased firing, also; foralthough the enemy was within two hundred yards' distance, not a sightof either ship could be seen. They were blotted out; their conditionand their exact positions were unknown. Not a gun was fired for threeminutes, and then the smoke cleared away.
"Here they are!" cried Stewart, and his exclamation was drowned with abroadside, for the gunners of the _Constitution_ had discovered thatthe headmost ship was just abreast of them and but a hundred feet away.The sternmost was luffing up with the intention of reaching the_Constitution's_ quarter. The smoke from the big guns had hiddeneverything again, but orders were now coming fast from thequarter-deck. Men were hastening aloft, and others were tailing on tothe braces, tacks, and sheets. The main and mizzen top-sails werebraced aback against the mast, and slowly the _Constitution_ began tomove stern foremost through the water. It was as if nowadays the orderhad come to reverse the engines at full speed. All the sailors saw theimportance of this act. They were cheering now, and the
y had good rightto do so. Instead of finding herself on the larboard side and in goodposition for raking, the English vessel was in a very bad position. Itmust have astonished her commander to find himself so unexpectedlyconfronted, but he was directly beneath the _Constitution's_ gunsagain. There was no help for it. He was forced to receive her fire. Thebig sloop of war, which had been deserted so unceremoniously, kept onmaking a great hubbub, aiming at the place where she supposed theYankee frigate yet to be.
To repeat all the details of the rest of the struggle would be but torecount a tale filled with the detailed working of a ship and nauticalexpressions, but it is safe to state that never was a vessel betterhandled, and never did a captain win a title more honestly than didCharles Stewart the sobriquet of "Fighting Stewart."
It was ten minutes of seven in the evening when the first Englishvessel struck her flag. She proved to be His Britannic Majesty's sloopof war _Cyane_, under the command of Captain Gordon Falcon, a gallantofficer, and one who had earned distinction in the service. His ship,that he had fought bravely, mounted thirty-four guns. He was soovercome with emotion at having to surrender, that he could scarcelyreturn Captain Stewart's greeting when he came on board, for he hadentered the fight declaring that he was going to receive the Yankee'ssword. As soon as he had placed a prize crew on board the _Cyane_,Stewart headed the _Constitution_ for the other sloop of war, who wasdoing her best to get away. So fast did he overhaul her that the_Levant_--for that was her name--turned back to meet her big opponent,and bravely prepared to fight it out. But it was no use, and after somefiring and manoeuvring Captain George Douglass struck his colors, ashis friend Falcon had been forced to do some time earlier.
But what of old Renwick and the boy? They lay below in the cockpit--theold man with a shattered leg and the hero of the royal yard with a badsplinter wound across his chest. Men forget their wounds in moments ofgreat mental excitement; since he had been brought below, thequartermaster had been following every movement of the ship as if hehad been on deck.
"We are luffing up," he would say. "Ah! there we go, we headed her thattime! By tar, my hearties, we will win the day! Hark to 'em! Hear 'embark!" And so he kept it up, regardless of the fact that his shatteredleg was soon to be taken off; and all of the thirteen wounded men thereunder the surgeon's care listened to him, and when the news came downthat the first vessel had struck, Renwick called for cheers, and theywere given this time with a will!
"A discussion that grew more heated every moment."]
Three or four days after the fight, Captain Stewart was dining in hiscabin, and as usual his guests were the English captains, who had notyet entirely recovered from the deep chagrin incident to theirsurrender. How it started, no one exactly knew. It is not on recordwhich of the gentlemen was at fault for the beginning of the quarrel,but they were fighting their battles over again in a discussion thatgrew more heated every moment. Suddenly one of the officers, jumping tohis feet, accused the other of being responsible for what he termed"the unfortunate conclusion of the whole affair." Hot words wereexchanged. Stewart, who, of course, had his own opinions on the matterin question, said nothing, until at last he perceived that things mightbe going too far, and it was time for him to interfere. Smilingblandly, and looking from one of the angry men to the other, he spokeas follows:--
"Gentlemen, there is only one way that I see, to decide thisquestion,--to put you both on your ships again, give you back yourcrews, and try it over."
This ended the argument, but the story went the rounds of the ship, andone of the lieutenants in writing to a brother officer described theincident in those exact words.
Quartermaster Renwick survived the loss of his leg, and he used torelate the story of how and where he lost it to the youngsters whowould gather about his favorite bench fronting the Battery seawall.
The boy recovered also, and he served his country until they laid himon the shelf after the Civil War was over. Very nearly forty yearshad he passed in the navy, where he grew to be a great hand atyarn-spinning, and was much quoted, for he linked the service back tothe days of wind and sail, although he had lived to see the era ofsteam and steel. His favorite story of them all was of the old_Constitution_ and how she behaved under the command of "FightingStewart."