The American frigates “Constitution,” “Constellation,” and “United
States” fought and won great battles where the metal and crews were equal
or nearly equal, and proved beyond a doubt the advantage of American
seamanship and gunnery over the British in the Naval War of 1812. But it
remained for the little sloop-of-war “Wasp,” Captain Jacob Jones, to add
the final evidence of Yankee superiority. Her action with the “Frolic”
was fought under conditions so trying that it fairly ranks with the great
frigate actions of our naval history.
The “Wasp” was only about one-sixth the size of the “Constitution.” She
was about as big as the three-masted schooners which ply in and out of
our Atlantic seaports to-day, and only carried one hundred and forty men.
What she lacked in size she made up in personnel, and what she lacked in
ordnance she made up in precision of fire. They must have been fine Jack
tars and gallant fellows every one of them, for there was no chance for
skulkers in that fight. The vessel could not have been handled or the guns
served as they were with one man less.
It was off Albemarle Sound, in the rough end of a Hatteras gale, with a
gun-platform which now rolled the gun-muzzles into the spume and then sent
them skyward half-way to the zenith. It is a wonder that the gunners could
hit anything at all; but almost every broadside told, and the hull of the
“Frolic” was again and again riddled and raked fore and aft.
When the war broke out the “Wasp” was in European waters, carrying
despatches for the government. She was immediately recalled, and in
October, 1812, sailed from the Delaware to the southward and eastward
to get in the track of the British merchantmen in the West India trade.
On the 15th of October she ran into a gale of wind off the capes of the
Chesapeake, and lost her jib-boom and two men who were working on it at
the time. For two days and nights the little vessel tumbled about under
storm-sails, but Captain Jacob Jones was one of the best seamen in the
navy, and no further harm was done. On the night of the 17th the wind
moderated somewhat, though the seas still ran high. At about half-past
eleven a number of frigates were seen, and Captain Jones deeming it
imprudent to bear down nearer until day should show him who the strangers
were, sailed up to get the weather-gage and await the dawn. His forward
rigging was disabled, and he had no wish to take chances with an enemy of
greatly superior force.
The dawn came up clear and cold, and, as the darkness lifted, the crew
of the “Wasp” could make out six fine merchantmen under convoy of a big
brig. The brig was about the same size as the “Wasp,” and it was seen
that several of the merchantmen mounted from eleven to eighteen guns each.
Nevertheless, Jones sent his topmen aloft, and in a trice he had his light
yards on deck and his ship reefed down to fighting-canvas. The vessel was
rolling her bows half under, but the guns were cast loose and the decks
cleared for action. The brig, too, showed signs of animation. Her men
went aloft at about the same time as those of the “Wasp,” and soon she
signalled her convoy to make all sail before the wind to escape.
The sea was so high that it was eleven o’clock before the vessels came
within range of each other. Then on the English vessel the Spanish flag
was run up to the gaff. But the Americans nevertheless held on a course
which would soon bring the ships together. There were enough Englishmen
in those waters for Jones to take chances of her being one of the enemy.
By half-past eleven the ships were within speaking-distance,--two or three
hundred feet apart,--and Captain Jones mounted the mizzen-rigging, lifting
his voice so that it might be heard above the shrieking of the wind and
sea, and shouted through his trumpet,--
“What ship is that?”
For answer the Spanish flag came down with a run, the British ensign
was hoisted, and a broadside was fired. Just then a squall keeled the
Englishman over to leeward, and the “Wasp” having the weather-gage, the
shots whistled harmlessly overhead and through the rigging. The Yankee
ship responded immediately. The gunners had been trained in all weathers
to fire as their own vessel was about to roll downward on the wave towards
their adversary. By this means the shots were more sure to go low in the
enemy’s hull and to have the additional chance of the ricochet which would
strike a glancing blow. They waited a second or so for this opportunity,
and then sent their broadside of nine shots crashing through the hull of
the “Frolic.”
The tumbling of the vessel sent the guns rolling about, and the tacklemen
needed all their strength and skill to hold the guns in for serving and
out for firing. But they were in no hurry. They worked as slowly and as
surely as possible, taking every advantage of the roll of the vessel,
training and aiming deliberately, and then firing at will. The Englishmen
sent in three broadsides to two of the Yankees. But they fired from the
hollow on the upward roll of the vessel and most of their shots went high,
scarcely one of them striking the hull of the “Wasp.”
It is a wonderful thing to think even of these two little vessels, tossed
about like billets of wood, the playthings of the elements, fighting
a battle to the death with each other, ignoring the roaring of the sea
and the hissing of the water which now and again seemed to completely
engulf them in its foam. The waves came over the bows and waist of the
“Wasp,” flooding the decks, overturning buckets and making division-tubs
a superfluity. Sometimes it dashed in at the leeward ports, dipping the
handles of the sponges and rammers, and even burying the muzzles of the
guns, which the next moment would be pointing at the main-truck of their
adversary. The powder-boys, wet to the waist, stumbled over the decks with
their powder-charges under their jackets, and, though buffeted about and
knocked down repeatedly, kept the men at the guns plentifully supplied
with ammunition.
Although the British were firing rapidly and the shots were flying high,
they began doing great damage in the rigging of the American. A few
minutes after the battle was begun a shot from the “Frolic” struck the
maintop-mast of the “Wasp” just above the cap, and it fell forward across
the fore-braces, rendering the head-yards unmanageable for the rest of the
action. A few minutes later other shots struck the mizzen-top-gallant-mast
and the gaff, and soon almost every brace was shot away. The “Frolic” had
been hulled repeatedly, but aloft had only lost her gaff and head-braces.
In a quiet sea it would have been bad enough to lose the use of the sails,
but in a gale of wind manœuvring became practically impossible. The wind
was blowing fiercely so both vessels drove on before it, keeping up the
cannonading whenever a gun would bear, and pouring in from the tops a fire
of musketry upon the officers and men upon the decks.
The “Wasp,” having squared forward by the dropping of her maintop-mast
across the fore-braces, no longer sailed on the wind, and in a moment drew
forward, gradually approaching across the bows of the “Frolic,” which,
having lost the use of her head-sails, could not sheer off. Captain Jones
was quick to see his advantage, and ran the enemy’s bowsprit between the
main- and mizzen-masts of the “Wasp.” The vessels now began striking
and grinding against each other furiously, as though by a test of the
stanchness of their timbers to settle the battle between them. The men who
were loading two of the port broadside guns of the “Wasp” struck the bow
of the “Frolic” with their rammers and found themselves looking into the
forward ports of the enemy. The guns were loaded with grape, and after the
ships crashed together were fired directly through those forward ports of
the “Frolic,” raking her from stem to stern in a frightful manner.
The next wave tore the ships apart, and the “Wasp” forged ahead,
the bowsprit of the Englishman catching in the mizzen-shrouds, where
Lieutenant James Biddle and a party of officers and seamen were awaiting
the order to board. In this position the bowsprit of the “Frolic” was
pounding terribly upon the poop of the “Wasp.” At every send of the waves
the bows of the Englishman would fall as the stern of the American rose,
and it seemed as though both ships would be torn to pieces. The men of the
“Wasp” had wished to board, the moment the ships had come together, and
crowded along the hammock-nettings hardly to be restrained. But Captain
Jones, knowing the advantage of his raking position, wanted to send in
another broadside. He called the men back to the guns, but they were too
intent upon their object. One brawny fellow, named Jack Lang, who had
been impressed into the British service, made a spring, and catching a
piece of gear, swung himself up on the bowsprit and clambered down alone,
his cutlass in his teeth, to the enemy’s deck. The “Wasp’s” men cheered
vigorously, and, leaving their guns, rushed aft to follow him. Captain
Jones, seeing that they would not be denied, then gave the order to
Lieutenant Biddle to board.
Biddle, cutlass in hand, jumped upon the nettings to lead the men.
Midshipman Yorick Baker, being too small to clamber up alone, and seeing
Biddle’s coat-tails flapping in the wind, seized hold of them, one in
each hand. He did not want to be left behind, and thought he might trust
to the impetuosity of his superior officer to land him successfully among
the first on the deck of the enemy. But just then a terrific lurch threw
Biddle off his balance, and they both came violently to the deck. They
were up again in a second, however, and with Lieutenant George W. Rogers
and a party of seamen finally reached the bowsprit of the “Frolic.”
Upon the fo’c’s’le of the enemy stood Jack Lang, swinging to the motion
of the brig, his cutlass at his side, looking aft at a scene of carnage
that was hardly imaginable. All the fierceness had died out of him, for
he looked around at Biddle and grinned broadly. The decks were covered
with the dead and dying, who tossed about in the wash of bloody water
with every heave of the ship. The decks, masts, bulwarks, and rails were
torn to ribbons, huge jagged splinters projecting everywhere. Guns, tubs,
sponges, rammers, and solid shot were adrift, pounding from one side
of the wreck to the other. No one moved to secure them, for only half a
dozen men stood upright. At the wheel an old quartermaster, badly wounded,
swung grimly, ready to die at his post. Behind him an English lieutenant,
bleeding from ghastly wounds, clutched at a stanchion for support. Two
other officers stood near, and one or two jackies glared forward at the
Americans. There was no sign of resistance, and the wave of pity which
came over Biddle and his officers swept away all desire for battle. The
British flag was still flying. No one seemed to have the strength to
haul it down; so Biddle went aft and lowered it to the deck. In a few
moments the masts fell, and she lay a useless hulk wallowing upon the
waves, which, more sure of their prey, dashed against her torn sides,
widening the gashes made by her indomitable enemy, and at times making
clean breaches over her bulwarks, tearing loose her boats and otherwise
completing her destruction.
Under the conditions, it seemed hardly credible that such injury could
have been inflicted in so short a time, for the battle had lasted only
forty-three minutes. The “Frolic” had twenty-two guns, while the “Wasp”
had only eighteen. The crew of the “Frolic” was less than of the “Wasp,”
the best authorities estimating it at one hundred and ten, against one
hundred and thirty-eight of the “Wasp.” But even here the great loss and
damage to the “Frolic” can be explained in no way save that the Americans
were superior gunners and seamen. The “Wasp” lost five killed and five
wounded, and these men were most of them shot while aloft trying to refit
gear. The “Frolic” lost fifteen killed and forty-seven wounded, making a
total of sixty-two against ten of the “Wasp.”
But Jacob Jones’s victory was not to prove profitable, save in the great
moral influence it exercised in England and America. He placed a crew
upon the prize, and, having cleared away his wreck and refitted his
rigging, tried to make sail away after the fleet of merchantmen, which
by this time were nearly hull down on the horizon. But a great British
seventy-four, the “Poictiers,” hove in sight, and before Jones could get
away he found himself under her guns a prisoner. Captain Beresford, of the
line-of-battle ship, took the sloop-of-war to Bermuda, and there a garbled
report of the action between Captain Whinyate’s and Captain Jones’s
vessels was written. But the American captain and his gallant crew were
soon exchanged, and returned home, where their victory had been given its
true value. They received twenty-five thousand dollars from Congress as
prize-money, and a gold medal was given to Captain Jones and a silver one
to each of the officers. The legislature of Pennsylvania gave Lieutenant
Biddle a sword for his gallantry.