[Composed 9/21/2024]
After touring the US
Coast Guard Cutter 37 we headed to our final ship of the day: the
USS
Constellation. Since we arrived in Baltimore we had been
referring to this vessel as the 'pirate ship' because
its towering masts looked the part.
While winding our way through an exhibition on the way to boarding I
learned that the Constellation is so much cooler than a pirate
ship: it was, among other roles, an
Anti-Slaver. For its early mission in the 1850's it served
as the Flag
Ship for the African
Squadron and helped enforce anti-slave trade laws.
But wait, you might ask, wasn't slavery still legal in the US at
this time? It was. There's clearly a duality going on
with this mission. On one hand, it feels
modern and progressive, with the US providing
resources to fight the scourge of slavery half-way around the world; doing so
with an integrated
crew. This 1844
report from the US Navy underscores this perspective:
The operations of the [Africa] squadron have, it is believed, exercised a
favorable influence in preventing the slave trade. With the
provision of our law denouncing it as piracy, and the presence of
our own Naval forces, with authority to visit all vessels under the
American flag, it is not probable that our citizens will engage in
this disgraceful and perilous traffic, or our flag, be used by
others to any great extent.
If other Christian nations would inflict the same punishment on the
offenders, it is not improbable that the trade would cease.
On the other hand, you had figures like
Commodore
Issac Mayo who commanded the African Squadron for a time and
who himself was an enslaver. While
he was off rescuing captured individuals he
was making headlines at home for individuals
trying to escape his capture.
The USS Constellation's anti-slavery duties ended when it was
recalled as part of the Civil War.
Once we boarded the Constellation, we perused the upper deck, known as the spar
deck. At the front of the ship we found a ranger talking about, and
preparing to fire, the ship's forward Parrott
rifle (alas, named for Mr. Parrott,
not the bird). G, I think fearing a loud explosion, wanted nothing
to do with this demonstration. So we put some distance between the
ranger and ourselves.
We wandered the spar deck and admired the masts, endless
lines, and other
cool sailing features. Of course, we took turns 'driving' the ship by
putting our hands on the ship's wheel, or as it's properly known, the helm.
The helm underscores a common theme of the USS Constellation:
simplicity. The helm looks impressive, but it's little more than a
wheel connected to the ship's tiller by a rope. The tiller is then
connected to the rudder, which steers the
vessel. This tiller and rudder arrangement is the same configuration
I used to steer my tiny Sunfish sailboat when earning my Sailing
Merit Badge
in the 1990's.
To further emphasize the simplicity of this setup, if the helm gets damaged
it's possible to send sailors below to the
tiller
room, where steering can be done directly.
From the Spar deck we made our way down a level to the Gun
deck. Here we found an impressive array of canon, all seemingly
ready to bombard Baltimore's inner harbor. From what I can tell, the
impressive looking fire power was one of USS Constellation's
most important assets. With it, it could camouflage the fact that
she was a sail only vessel built at a time when her competition
didn't solely rely on wind. This put her at an almost comical
disadvantage to modern enemy ships.
Her attempt to run
down a Confederate ship in 1864
proves the point succinctly:
On Dec. 19, 1864, as the Union warship sailed north, a blockade
runner was sighted. Stellwagen gave chase. The quarry, however,
realizing that its pursuer lacked steam power, engaged its engines
and escaped to windward.
Was the public outraged that their their tax
dollars were spent to build an inferior relic? It's seems they were
not; they saw all those
glorious
guns and
cheered the effort on.
The Western Democrat, Charlotte, NC, September 15, 1854:
The new sloop-of-war Constellation is capable
of throwing a greater weight of metal than her
namesake the frigate, and is somewhat larger in
her dimensions. She is one hundred and seventy
six feet between perpendiculars ; beam, forty-one ;
hold to gundeck, twenty-one ; length on the load
line, one hundred and seventy. The new ship
his been built with a spar deck, on which
she will mount two ten inch, pivot guns ; on the
gun deck she will carry twenty guns, sixteen ;
sixty-eightpounders, and four long thirtv-pouuders,
which will make her a very formidable man-of war.
Grand River Times, Grad Haven, Michigan, October 11, 1854
A Peace Maker. The Constellation a new
sloop of war, of 1,400 tons and 201 feet in length
is to be launched at Portsmouth on the 25th
inst. This vessel we learn from the Globe, presents to the eye a
structure of strength and capacity scarcely equalled in our navy by
any vessel below a first class frigate.
On her gun deck she has twenty-four ports,
but will only mount twenty guns, 16 of 68
pounders and 4 long 32 pounders. On her spar
deck forward and aft, she will mount 2 ten-shell
guns on pivots, carrying a ball weighing 120
pounds. Her spars will be about the same as a
second class frigate, her main yard being 90 feet
in length.
This vessel, the Globe thinks, will bo the model sloop-of-war of the
world.
Then, as now, appearance goes a long a way.
However, before you write off the Constellation as a bureaucratic
fiasco, you do need to appreciate that the old school sail-only tech
wasn't without advantages.
Then as now, the navy consider's a ship's endurance,
that is: "the minimum amount of burnable fuel the ship must carry."
With wind
power only, the USS Constellation had nearly unlimited endurance,
which made it ideal for long distance missions.
So what do you do with a vessel that mainly looks tough and can
travel long distances without breaking a sweat? You deploy them
overseas in diplomatic roles. Which is exactly what they did with
the Constellation. Even after she was recalled to mainland for the
Civil War, she was again sent out to the Mediterranean
Sea to "protect US interests." What a clever use for a ship
who's strengths could be affectionately considered unique.
From the guns we made our way forward to the captain's
quarters. The USS Constellation may have wildly different
construction and tech (or lack there of) from the sub
and cutter
we toured earlier, but some elements remain unchanged. One is that the captain's space will
always be the most luxurious. Here too we find this to be the
case. Our favorite feature of the captain's quarter's: he has not
one, but two bathrooms for his use. And by bathroom, I mean a seat
he can sit on with an opening to the sea below. Now that's luxury!
From the Gun deck, we descended another level to the berth deck.
The berth deck is where the sailors live, and everything
about it underscore's the simplicity of the Constellation's
design. With hammocks hung in place, it becomes the sleeping
quarters. With hammocks stowed, and picnic blankets (not the
historically accurate term, but essentially the same thing) spread out, it becomes a
mess hall. With picnic blankets stashed away, it becomes a rec room.
The curators of the ship gave us a taste of this setup, with
a few hammocks hung up and a tarp spread out with some dinner ware
on top. We asked, and sure enough, they encouraged us to climb into the
hammocks and give them a try. G and I gladly obliged. It wasn't half
bad, swinging there for a few moments without a care in the
world.
And yet, when you consider the reality of life aboard a ship, that
care free image quickly evaporates. With approximately
220
sailors on board, those hammocks must have been packed
together like sardines. The low ceilings meant that one could
barely stand, and lack of seating meant that sitting wasn't
especially comfortable either. Natural light is limited, and the only artificial
light available was by flame; a scary proposition considering you're
floating on a wooden vessel draped in canvas. There are three toilets
available on the entire
ship, two of which were in the captains suite for his use. In short, these
sailors had it rough.
Finally, we descended to the final deck, the Hold. Here G's height
became a true asset, as I found myself nearly having to crawl to avoid
hitting my head. The Hold was the ship's storage area. It's also here that you can see
the oldest parts of the ship, much of which goes back to its 1854
launching.
Given the long distance missions that the Constellation undertook,
the Hold, with it's life supporting supplies, would have been a
critical feature of the ship. I couldn't find any specifics
on how long the Constellation went without resupply, but I did find
this 1846
record of the USS
Yorktown making the journey from its Africa
Squadron base back to the Boston area. The Yorktown, like the
Constellation was a sloop of war, though, she was smaller and had
nearly half the number of crew aboard. Still, it took her 27 days to
cross the Atlantic.
That's weeks of nothing but featureless blue. The captain would
benefit from modern (for the time period) navigation tech that
would make the crossing relatively safe and predictable. But still,
all that separated the crew from starvation was the supplies in the
Hold.
Again, that's a hard pass for experiences I'd like to endure.
Speaking of supplies, another notable mission the Constellation
undertook was in March
of 1880, when the ship's guns and ballast were removed and
replaced by 2,500 barrels of potatoes and flour. The was part of a
effort to deliver relief to victims of the Ireland's
1880
famine.
This mission echoed one conducted by the USS
Jamestown in 1847. The Jamestown, also a sloop of war,
delivered relief supplies for the Irish Famine of that era. This is
considered the first
instance of any
nation delivering humanitarian aid to another.
Prior to 1847, the bulk of interaction between nation-states
consisted mainly of warfare and other hostilities, mixed with
occasional trade; the entire concept of international charity
existed neither in the moral consciousness nor as part of the
political strategy of monarchs or elected leaders. If anything, such
a gesture toward a foreign nation would likely have been viewed as a
sign of weakness.
..
More than 5,000 ships left Ireland during the great potato famine in
the late 1840s, transporting the starving and the destitute away
from their stricken homeland. The first vessel to sail in the other
direction, to help the millions unable to escape, was the USS
Jamestown, a converted warship, which left Boston in March 1847
loaded with precious food for Ireland.
Between rescuing those destined for bondage, and following in the
footsteps of delivering food,
not bombs, the USS Constellation sure knew how to do a Mitzvah. I
left the ship with a surprising sense of pride. The USS
Constellation represents not just a legacy of seamanship, but of
finding innovative ways to make the world a better place.
Waving goodbye to the USS Constellation we made our way to a pizza
lunch and then back to the hotel so G and I could both take
naps. As
mornings go, this one had been perfect!
