The oldest commissioned warship still afloat visited New York for the last time in August 1931, during a nationwide tour ordered by Navy Secretary Charles Francis Adams, a descendant of President John Adams, under whose administration she had first gone to sea. Her arrival was reminiscent of J.M.W. Turner’s “The Fighting Temeraire”: a square-rigged wooden man-of-war nudged along by a tiny minesweeper. Yet USS Constitution – Old Ironsides – unvanquished in battle, still wore the star-spangled banner and long pennant of a warship in commission.

Built in Boston (Paul Revere forged her copper spikes, bolts, and sheathing), she first put to sea in 1798. She soon saw fighting: Pirates countenanced by Tripoli and other states of North Africa’s Barbary Coast were seizing American ships and kidnapping their crews. Congress having determined a state of war existed between the United States and Tripoli, President Jefferson ordered warships to the Mediterranean under Commodore Edward Preble, who raised his pennant in Constitution on August 14, 1803. Marines landed “on the shores of Tripoli,” whose inhabitants found their ports blockaded, cities bombarded, and ships sunk. A treaty of peace, “negotiated at the cannon’s mouth,” was soon signed aboard Constitution, which patrolled local waters for two years to enforce it.

The United States declared war on Great Britain on June 12, 1812. In early July Captain Isaac Hull, who had commanded Constitution since 1810, sailed her from Washington without orders to avoid blockade, narrowly evading five British warships off the Jersey shore. After taking on supplies, she left New York for the Gulf of St. Lawrence off Nova Scotia. On August 19, 1812, Constitution engaged HMS Guerriere. During the exchanges of fire, an American, watching Guerriere’s cannonballs bounce off Constitution’s oaken hull, cried, “Huzzah! Her sides are made of iron!” Hull’s second broad side brought down Guerriere’s mizzenmast, and Constitution passed ahead, firing a broadside down Guerriere’s decks. Guerriere’s foremast and mainmast fell, leaving her helpless only 35 minutes after Hull opened fire. Constitution had won her nickname.

Four months later, around 1:30 a.m. on December 29, 1812, Constitution – Commodore William Bainbridge now commanding – was off Brazil when HMS Java was sighted on a converging course. Bainbridge let her overhaul him. Around noon, Bainbridge ran up the Stars and Stripes. Java ran up the White Ensign and Union Jack. At 2:10 p.m. Bainbridge fired at one mile, splashing or overshooting the Englishman, who held fire until within pistol shot at 2:30 p.m. Her broadside then destroyed Constitution’s helm. Bainbridge sent below 49 Marines to manually steer the ship and, over three hours, Constitution systematically destroyed Java, who struck her colors at 5:25 p.m. Bainbridge took off Java’s survivors (and Java’s wheel to replace Constitution’s own shattered one) and blew her up.

In December 1814, Constitution’s new captain, Charles Stewart, evaded British blockaders off Boston to go hunting. On February 20, 1815, Stewart fell in with HMS Cyane and HMS Levant off Madeira. At twilight, in a heavy mist, though outnumbered and outgunned, Constitution captured first one and then the other in a four-hour test of seamanship and gunnery. It was Constitution’s last victory: The war had ended two months before.

By 1828, she was more than 30 years old. The Navy was reportedly contemplating scrapping. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. then published “Old Ironsides.” The poem read in part:

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!

Holmes having made Constitution a national monument, an embarrassed Navy repaired her. She remained in active service for another 50 years (her last capture, in 1853, was a slaver, the schooner H. N. Gambrill of New York), making her last foreign cruise in 1878. After paying off her crew in New York in 1881, she did not sail again until midday on July 21, 1997, during her bicentennial.

The crew had trained for 15 months in her obsolescent and unforgiving technology. Learning the ropes is no cliche: Truss tackles, pendant tackles, clew garnets, clew jiggers, topsail clew jiggers, topgallant clewlines, royal clewlines: Each of the several hundred lines comprising Constitution’s running rigging has a distinct function. Confusing them could dismast the ship. Constitution having been towed just outside Boston Harbor, she released her towlines, the wind bellied her canvas, and, for an hour, she moved once more upon the face of the waters. Then they took the old girl home.

Every sunset, a bugler sounds “Retreat” from her decks as the colors are lowered for the night. At the final note, a single gun speaks from her side and the word is passed to carry on.