Charles Stewart was a Philadelphian. He was born on the 28th day of July, 1778, shortly after the evacuation of the city by the British. His mother was left a widow when he was but two years old. Overcoming many hardships, Mrs. Stewart managed to support herself and her large family of eight children during the troublous times of the Revolution. At the age of thirteen Charles entered the merchant service as a cabin-boy, and speedily began to show that he had in him the material for making an officer.

At the age of twenty he was in command of a vessel in the Indian trade, but shortly after he attained this rank he accepted a commission as lieutenant in the navy of the United States. Stewart’s able handling of the little schooner Experiment, of 12 guns, on several occasions brought him to the attention of the country, and his conduct in the Mediterranean won for him the praise of his superiors and the admiration of the service. He was a fine-looking, energetic man, who possessed a manner that is said to have been most fascinating; but, like all of his school, he was above everything else a fighting man.

In the fall of the year 1814, after the repulse of the British at Norfolk, Captain Stewart, who at the beginning of the war had been in command of the 36-gun frigate Constellation, was given the post then most desired above all others in our navy—that of commander of “Old Ironsides.”

After undergoing some repairs in the navy-yard, the Constitution, with a veteran crew, sailed from the port of Boston and proceeded southward. For some time she hung about the Bermudas, waiting in vain for an encounter; thence she sailed away for the coasts of Surinam, Berbice, and Demerara; cruised to windward of the island of Barbadoes, St. Vincent, Martinique, off St. Kitt’s, St. Eustatius, Porto Rico, and Santa Cruz, and succeeded in capturing and destroying the Picton, of 16 guns; a merchant ship of 10 guns; the brig Catherine, 10 guns; and an armed schooner, the Phoenix. But no foe was seen that was worthy of her mettle, and it appeared that bad luck was in the breezes.

At this time the Constitution must have presented a peculiar appearance while under way; her sails were the same she had carried in her cruises under Hull and Bainbridge, and the shot-holes made by the Guerrière and the Java were plain to view, like the honorable scars of a veteran. Patched and thread bare, her canvas was in no condition to stand a blow or to hold the wind. In those days the Constitution was a marked vessel in many senses. In view of the reputation she had earned, there were no frigates of her class that appeared to seek her out, and it was not considered a disgrace to avoid a meeting with “the dangerous nondescript,” as the British press had labelled her. If the fact was once ascertained what vessel it was that carried that high freeboard and those brown patched sails, His Majesty’s commanders generally showed a tenderness that their reputations would hardly lead one to expect. In the Mona Passage, for instance, Captain Stewart chased, but failed to come up with, the British frigate La Pique, and on two separate occasions he tried to entice the enemy to meet him by unfurling at first sight the enormous flag that also distinguished the Constitution above the other frigates in our service, but all to no purpose; and in March Stewart determined to return to the United States in order to refit completely. But he was not to reach home without an adventure.

Probably no vessel in the world had so many narrow escapes from capture as had the Constitution; only masterly seamanship had kept her from being taken.

From 1813 to the close of the war the English frigates generally cruised in pairs; and off the New England coast, on her return voyage, the Constitution ran across the Junon and La Nymphe, each of 50 guns. She managed to outsail them by a narrow margin, and arrived safely at Marblehead in the latter part of April. She rested in Massachusetts Bay for seven months, completely refitting under the eye of Captain Stewart himself; and in December she again proceeded to sea, and was then, beyond doubt, the best equipped and best ordered vessel of her class that ever answered helm.

Stewart shaped his course for his favorite cruising-ground, the high seas to the eastward of the Bermudas, and on the 24th of the month he captured the English brig Lord Nelson, and took the ship Susan with a valuable cargo, sending the latter to New York. Then he bore away east, with the intention of reaching the waters in the neighborhood of the Madeira Islands.

The morning of the 20th of February began with light breezes from the east and cloudy weather. At 1 P.M. a sail was discovered two points off the larboard and three leagues or more away. The Constitution bore up at once, and made all sail in chase. In half an hour the stranger was seen to be a ship, and in a few minutes another vessel was made out ahead; both were close-hauled, and about ten miles apart. At four o’clock it was seen that the weather-most ship was signalling her consort, who immediately shortened sail and waited for her.

For an hour the three vessels sailed on. The two strangers, that were closing on each other gradually, displayed no flags; and although at too great a distance to reach the nearer vessel, Stewart commenced to fire with his bow guns, in the hope that they would display their colors; but to no purpose. It was not doubted, however, that they were English, and the Constitution cleared for action. Soon they passed within hail of one another, and, hauling by the wind on the starboard tack, showed that they were prepared to fight.

Now commenced the usual struggle for the advantage of the weather-gage; but, finding that the Constitution could outpoint them, the British vessels gave up the attempt, and, forming in line about half a cable’s length apart, awaited her on-coming, shortening sail, and evidently preparing some concerted method of attack. At six Stewart shook out his tremendous flag, and the British ensigns climbed up in answer; at the same moment both vessels gave three rousing cheers. But in grim silence the Constitution bore down upon them, ranged up on the starboard side of the sternmost, and let go her broadside at a distance of only three hundred yards. The English replied with spirit, and the cannonading became furious. There being little wind, a great bank of sulphurous smoke, impenetrable as any fog, settled over the water on the Constitution’s lee, and completely hid her antagonists. For three minutes the Constitution ceased her fire altogether (the enemy having slackened also), and then Stewart descried the topmasts of the leader stretching above the rolling clouds abreast of him. He fired his broadside, and again the smoke swallowed her from sight, just as it was seen that the ship astern had luffed to take up a raking position on the larboard quarter. The superior seamanship of the American tars and the quality of the vessel they manned could not be shown better than by the manoeuvre which followed. Stewart braced aback his main and mizzen topsails, and immediately the Constitution gathered sternway and slid backwards through the smoke. What must have been the astonishment of Captain Gordon Falcon, the British commander, when he saw alongside of him the enemy that he had hoped, a few minutes before, to take at such a disadvantage! The foremost vessel, that had received the previous broadside of the Constitution, kept pegging away at a spectre in the sulphurous cloud.

At thirty-five minutes past six the enemy’s fire again slackened, and the headmost ship was discovered bearing up. Now the Constitution reversed her tactics, shot ahead, crossed the first vessel’s stern and raked her fearfully, sailed about the stern most and raked her also; then, ranging up within hail on the larboard quarter, she prepared for another broadside, when the last ship fired a lee gun and remained silent. At ten minutes of seven Stewart lowered his boat and took possession of His Majesty’s ship Cyane, mounting 34 guns, commanded by Captain Gordon Falcon. The moon had risen by this time; the smoke had cleared away, and it was seen that the other ship was trying her best to get away to a place of safety. Seeing this, at once the Constitution spread all sail in chase, and gallantly the smaller vessel, finding escape impossible, stood back close-hauled to meet her. They crossed on opposite tacks, and the Constitution wore immediately under the enemy’s stern and raked her with a broadside.

Again the Englishman spread all sail, and endeavored to escape by running free. The Constitution broke out her lighter sail in chase, firing well-directed shots from her starboard bowchaser. At ten, seeing she could not escape, the English vessel fired a gun, struck her colors, and yielded.

She proved to be His Majesty’s ship the Levant, mounting 21 guns, Captain George Douglass.

Before midnight Stewart had manned both his prizes, repaired his rigging, shifted his sails, and had his vessel in as good condition as before the encounter.

The Cyane was a ship that had made a reputation for herself in the war with France. She was one of the crack sloops of war in the English service. Only a year before she had engaged a French 44-gun frigate, and kept her at bay until help came in the shape of a seventy-four. Her commander was so crestfallen at having to surrender that when he came aboard a prisoner he hardly recognized Stewart’s courteous greetings and compliments.

Down in the cabin of the Constitution a little scene was enacted that must have been dramatic. Captain Douglass and Captain Falcon were treated as honored guests by Captain Stewart, and over their wine at dinner the day after the capture the two Englishmen indulged in a dispute, each placing the responsibility for the defeat upon the other’s shoulders.

Stewart listened without comment for some minutes, and then rising, gravely said, “Gentlemen, there is only one way that I see to decide this question—to put you both on your ships again, give you back your crews, and try it over.”

Either the humor or the force of this remark must have struck each one of his late antagonists, for they ceased their bickering at once.

An anecdote is related showing the spirit of the men on board the Constitution at the time. As she forged down upon the waiting English vessels grog was issued, as was customary, to the crews standing at the guns. An old quartermaster, noting with anger the eagerness of the men to claim a double share, as there were two vessels to fight, walked down the deck and kicked over two buckets of the spirits into the scuppers, exclaiming, “Shame, messmates; we need no Dutch courage on board this ship!”

This little incident, while it might not have dampened the crew’s ardor, may have accounted for the lack of cheers.

It is to be noticed that the weight of shot fired by the British vessels was heavier than the Constitution’s by ninety pounds.

In the action with the Guerrière the Constitution had been hulled three times, and in that with the Java four times. In this engagement thirteen shots reached her hull.

Only one of the prizes was destined to reach the United States—the Cyane—and the reason for this makes a separate story in itself.

After the action the vessels set sail for the island St. Jago, and entered the harbor of Porto Praya, having previously touched at one of the Cape Verd Islands.

On the 12th of March, as they lay at anchor under the guns of the neutral battery, three ships were discovered in the offing. Soon they were made out to be frigates, and the Constitution gave signal to get under way. No sooner had this happened than the forts on the shore commenced firing upon the Americans, and the British vessels hoisted the English colors. The Constitution and the Levant were standing on the wind to the southward and eastward, with all three of the enemy in chase. The Cyane bore up to the north, and shaped her course towards the United States. The Levant, a much slower sailer than the Constitution, kept falling behind, and Stewart saw that it would be foolishness to attempt to close with a force so much superior.

He signalled Lieutenant Ballard, the prize commander of the Levant, to make back to the harbor; she came about, made the entrance safely, and anchored in so close to the shore as to run her jib boom over the Portuguese battery; and the latter, as if to show her “neutrality” to the satisfaction of the English, cowardly fired upon her as she lay there, and, despite the fact that Ballard did not reply, but hauled down his flag, the Acasta and the Newcastle, two of the pursuers, came in and also fired at her a number of times. But, as if in poetic justice for the action of the Portuguese, they did more harm to the town than to the ship.

When the officer from the British squadron came on board the Levant, he advanced briskly to the quarter-deck, and, with no attempt to conceal his eagerness, exclaimed to Lieutenant Ballard, who there awaited him:

“Sir, I believe I have the honor of taking the sword of Captain Blakeley, commander of the American sloop of war the Wasp.”

“No, sir,” was the reply; “if you have an excess of pride in this case, you have the honor of receiving the sword of Captain Ballard, prize commander of His British Majesty’s ship the Levant.”

It was evident from the crestfallen appearance of the Britisher that he had expected a different reply. To receive the sword of Blakeley would have been a feather in his cap.

A strange state of things existed on board the Constitution as she sailed off to the west. She had on board no fewer than 240 prisoners, and the number of English officers who were unwilling guests was double that of her own. As this was the last cruise of the grand old ship in the second war with Great Britain, a short résumé of her career will be of interest:

Exclusive of the merchant vessels that had been sent back to the United States, in her actions with armed vessels of the English navy she had taken 154 guns, made upwards of 900 prisoners, killed or wounded 298 of the enemy, and the value of the property captured could not be estimated at less than one and a half millions of dollars.

The strange discrepancy which existed between the loss of life on board of her and her antagonists is to be noted. In her action with the Cyane and the Levant she lost 3 killed and 13 wounded, while the killed and wounded on board her opponents, so far as could be ascertained, were 77.

Another interesting fact is that she has been in commission within the last twelve years, and only a few years ago she again breasted the waves, and was towed from the capes of the Delaware to her final resting-place in Massachusetts Bay.