The “Constitution” had fifty-five guns, the “Guerriere” forty-nine, sending shot weighing approximately seven hundred and six hundred pounds respectively. The “Constitution’s” crew numbered four hundred and sixty-eight; that of the “Guerriere” two hundred and sixty-three. The “Constitution” lost seven killed and seven wounded, and the “Guerriere” fifteen killed and sixty-three wounded. All authorities acknowledge that, other things being equal, the discrepancy in metal and crews hardly explains the difference in the condition of the vessels at the end of the battle.
THE “WASP” AND THE “FROLIC”
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?”