Built in an era when a wooden ship had an expected service life of ten to fifteen years, Constitution was thirty-one years old in 1828. The commandant of the Charlestown Navy Yard, Charles Morris, estimated a repair cost of over $157,000 for Constitution. On 14 September 1830, an article appeared in the Boston Advertiser that erroneously claimed the Navy intended to scrap Constitution. Two days later, Oliver Wendell Holmes' poem "Old Ironsides" was published in the same paper and later all over the country, igniting public indignation and inciting efforts to save "Old Ironsides" from the scrap yard. She began a leisurely repair period.
On 24 June 1833 Constitution entered drydock and remained there until 21 June 1834 when she was returned to service.
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
September 16, 1830
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon's roar;
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more.
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor's tread,
Or know the conquered knee;
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!
Oh, better that her shattered bulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave;
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!
When Discovery and its transport 747 glided past me that morning, I was struck how it, like the Constitution, was battered and charred by its service. Indeed, the shuttle Enterprise that Discovery replaced was originally named Constitution. The contrast between the initial plan to scrap Constitution and the warm and welcoming reception and preservation of Discovery was a striking one in my mind. Both vessels will be preserved for posterity: both are proud examples of American resolve, ingenuity and courage. Hence, my poem:
by Dan Verner
April 18, 2012
Sitting in my gray Impala
Idling in the Walgreens parking lot
Hoping to see the orbiter/747 transport on its final approach
I had given up hope of doing so
Since it was past time for landing
And was just about ready to
Open the door and
Get out of the car
There it was:
Sliding silently past my windshield
Two hundred fifty feet away
A thousand feet up
Headed for a landing
Seventeen miles distant,
The travel-worn orbiter atop its
(I was minded of nothing more than
Two boys who stack themselves
Onto a single sled for more weight and greater speed)
And so down they slid to a final stop out of my sight.
And so, to the ancient tale of Atlantis
And sagas of fighting ships like the first
U.S.S. Constitution, battered like the orbiter,
Add this tale of brave men and woman
Who enterprised to build such machines
Endeavoured to meet challenges
No matter what the cost
Bearing the standard for this nation,
Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean.
This is my salute.