Before USS Constitution earned the name “Old Ironsides,” she had to survive a fight in which she barely fired a shot.
In July 1812, less than a month after the United States declared war on Great Britain, Captain Isaac Hull took the heavy frigate to sea under orders to join Commodore John Rodgers’s squadron. Off New Jersey, five warships appeared on the horizon. Hull first took them for friends. By the time he knew better, the British were closing, the wind was dying, and open water offered nowhere to hide.
What followed was not a broadside duel. It was a multi-day contest of rope, canvas, anchors, oars, judgment, and raw endurance. Constitution escaped because her people kept finding one more way to move a ship when the sea gave them nothing.
Five Sails Off Egg Harbor
Hull’s own report to Secretary of the Navy Paul Hamilton fixes the scene. At 2 p.m. on July 17, Constitution was in 22 fathoms of water off Egg Harbor, New Jersey, when lookouts saw four vessels northward and inshore. A fifth ship appeared later, standing toward the American frigate.
Hull had reason to expect Rodgers’s squadron from New York, so Constitution made sail to investigate. After dark, however, the strangers failed to answer the American private signal. Hull concluded that he had found the enemy and hauled away to the south and east.
Daylight made the danger plain. The force included the 64-gun ship of the line HMS Africa and the frigates Belvidera, Aeolus, Shannon, and Guerriere. A brig and schooner were also visible during the pursuit. Constitution was a formidable frigate, but no sensible captain would choose to trade broadsides with that company.
Hull ran. Then the wind abandoned him.
Becalmed Within Reach
On the morning of July 18, Constitution lost steerage as the air died around her. British ships still carried a light breeze and came on fast. Hull’s crew hoisted out the boats and sent them ahead to pull the frigate’s bow around and tow her away.
The British answered with their own boats. Some of the closest pursuers had six or eight craft towing, their crews working oars and sweeps. Hull cleared Constitution for action, shifted guns aft, and placed cannon to fire through the cabin windows and quarterdeck ports. When the nearest frigate came within range, the Americans tried a stern shot. It fell short. British fire fell short as well, but the gap was shrinking.
There is a hard truth every sailor knows: sometimes the most dangerous sea is the one that will not move. Hull had guns, oak, and a trained crew. Without wind, he had a 1,500-ton target.
Warping a Frigate by Hand
First Lieutenant Charles Morris suggested the answer. Because the water was only about 24 fathoms deep, the crew could warp—or kedge—the ship ahead.
The idea was brutally simple. Sailors loaded an anchor into a boat, rowed it hundreds of yards ahead, dropped it, and returned. Men aboard Constitution then hauled on the long line, dragging the frigate toward the anchor. As one anchor came home, another could be carried forward. In Hull’s report, the crew prepared 300 to 400 fathoms of rope and two anchors for the work.
It worked. Constitution began to gain ground.
Then British lookouts understood the maneuver. Their boats started carrying anchors too, while boats from ships farther astern reinforced the leaders. What had begun as an American improvisation became a grueling ship-against-ship tug across a nearly flat Atlantic.
For anyone who loves the older arts of the sea, this is the heart of the story. The frigate did not escape because of a secret weapon. She escaped because her officers understood depth, weight, line, leverage, and timing—and because her sailors could turn that knowledge into motion.
Every Breath of Wind
From nine in the morning until noon, Hull wrote, all hands worked at warping the ship ahead. A light breeze finally arrived that afternoon and allowed Constitution to hold her distance even as the nearest British frigate was towed by eight or ten boats.
The chase continued through July 19. At one point Constitution passed within gunshot of a British frigate. Later, a strange sail appeared. The British raised American colors in an attempt to lure the merchantman closer; Hull raised British colors to warn her away. The merchant ship hauled off.
All day the wind slowly strengthened, and Constitution gained six to eight miles. Still the squadron followed through the night under a press of sail. By dawn on July 20, only three pursuers remained visible from the masthead, the nearest roughly 12 miles astern.
Hull’s crew went back to work. They wetted every sail from the royals down so the canvas would hold the breeze more efficiently. At 8:15 a.m., the British finally gave up the chase and hauled northward.
The Victory Before the Victory
Constitution reached Boston unharmed on July 27. There were no prizes to count and no captured colors on deck, but the escape proved something that mattered just as much: Hull had a ship and crew ready for war.
Less than a month later, on August 19, Constitution met Guerriere alone and won the battle that made “Old Ironsides” famous. Yet the celebrated broadside victory depended on the quieter one off New Jersey. A ship captured in July could not triumph in August.
That is why the Great Chase belongs beside the boldest stories in American naval history. Like the crews in our story of USS Alligator on the Florida Reef, Hull’s sailors met danger with seamanship first. And like John Paul Jones and the battered Bonhomme Richard, they showed that resolve at sea is not a slogan. It is a thousand practiced tasks performed correctly while the horizon closes in.
The lesson still feels honest two centuries later: when the wind fails, put the boats over. When the boats are not enough, carry out the anchors. When a breath of air returns, make every inch of canvas count. Keep the ship moving.
Explore more true sea stories from Emerald Coast & Nautical Life.