Yankee Ships and Yankee Sailors: Tales of 1812

by James Barnes

The kindness shown to the brig's commander was extended in every way to the other officers and to the crew also. As the frigate was very crowded, but seventy of the Vixen's men were transferred to her. The other forty were kept as prisoners on board their own vessel. Every man was allowed to take his dunnage, and the prisoners on board the Southampton were given the run of the forward and main holds, although the hatchways were closely guarded by armed sentinels. Excepting for the confinement, which was absolutely necessary, of course, and which was in direct accordance with the rules of war, the prisoners suffered no inconvenience. Twice a day in details of twenty they were permitted to be on deck to enjoy the fresh air. The Southampton's crew were already on short allowance, owing to their having been at sea for some length of time, and the dole allowed the Americans was almost, if not quite, equal to that given the Englishmen. The officers were treated with the greatest of politeness and civility, and Captain Reed dined daily with Sir James in the cabin. All hands voted him a fine man and gentleman, and that he was a naval officer was proved conclusively enough by his actions subsequently when at the head of the British operations on the Lakes.

Five days after the capture the weather was fine, but a small sea was running. The Southampton, under easy sail, was leading, and crowding on all she could carry; the Vixen managed to keep within signalling distance of her. In three or four days every one expected to be anchored safe in Jamaica.

It was about half past eleven on a bright starry night when the lookout forward suddenly gave the cry, "Land ho!" A line of breakers could be seen about two miles to the westward, and above them the shores of a little island, at its highest point but twelve or fourteen feet above the water. Evidently the sailing-master of the frigate was out of his course. He probably had not allowed for the drift of one of those strange Gulf currents which have caused the destruction of many a fine ship.

The Southampton was put about in a hurry, and as she was such a good sailer and was so quick in manœuvring, no danger was apprehended, and she jogged along to the eastward to escape the proximity of the shoals. The Vixen was following her and taking in some of her sail as the wind commenced to blow much fresher. At twelve o'clock the sky had darkened, and it was difficult for one vessel to distinguish the other, although in the early part of the evening, by the aid of the moon and stars, everything had been visible. The mid-watch was just coming on, when, with a sudden shock, the Southampton struck on a sunken ledge of rocks; but she slid over the first, tearing the sheathing from her hull and wedging herself firmly in at the stern. Immediately a gun was fired to warn the Vixen, that was following in the wake; and also to be a signal of distress, as the greatest consternation prevailed now on board the frigate—that was leaking badly. But the usual ill fortune of the Vixen pursued her. At first she hove to and shortened sail, preparing to come to the frigate's assistance. Just as she was about to heave to the second time and lower a boat, she struck with such a vicious force that her bows drove high out of water, she was stove in completely, and all the prisoners, who had been wondering what was going on, now terrified and in great fear of immediate death, rushed up on deck to see a strange sight. It was pitch dark; the waves were breaking on every hand, and off the port bow the big frigate could be seen hard and fast, signalling in great distress.

Her position, in fact, was much worse than that of the brig, for she was filling and settling rapidly. Everything was being done that knowledge and good seamanship could suggest or direct. The top-gallant yards and masts were sent down, and top-masts were struck; and notwithstanding the sea was very rough, two boats were lowered, and although one was crushed against the vessel's side, the other set out to search for a safe passage through the reef. On board the Vixen the boats had been called away, and the American and English crews were mingled, but without confusion. A Yankee sat beside John Bull on a thwart, and deeming that their own vessel was in no immediate danger, but that the Southampton was about to sink, they started to act the part of life-savers and rescue as many of the frigate's crew as they could. There was no thought of their being enemies, no observance of the differences between prisoners and captors; all sought to act for the cause of humanity and to save human life. But they had not proceeded far from the side of the brig when they were called back in a hurry. The Vixen had slipped from her firm position on the jagged rock and was surely sinking. So instead of being a rescue party to others they found they had all they could do to save themselves. But every man was taken off and brought on board of the Southampton.

"Everything was done that good seamanship could direct."

Daylight was waited for most anxiously, and when it came, a dreary prospect was before the ship-wrecked ones. Not far away was a low island that was pronounced at once to be the island of Conception. Nothing but the topgallant masts of the Vixen showed above the water, as she had sunk during the night. The Southampton's pumps had been kept going for six hours. But she was so badly bilged, and the water was gaining so fast, that her hours were numbered. With a rising sea there was immediate danger of her going to pieces, and in her crowded condition the consequent loss of life would have been too terrible to think of. It was a row of about ten miles from the reef on which the ship lay to the distant low-lying, sandy shore. All the boats were made ready, a raft was built and floated alongside, and the boatswain, obeying orders from the quarter-deck, began bawling: "Away there, you Vixens, away!" So the prisoners were to go first; but since the vessels had struck they had not been treated as prisoners at all. They had obeyed Sir James's orders as though they were members of his own crew, and they had not been shown the slightest evidences of bad blood or ill feeling on the part of the ordinary seamen. Before the day was over all the crew had been transferred to the island, and a boatload of provisions had been safely landed. Sir James and his officers spent the first night on board ship; but on the following morning, as she showed all evidences of a speedy breaking up, a tent was made for him on shore.

A strange life now followed. The great lack felt upon the island was that of proper drinking-water. Conches and shellfish and land-crabs there were in plenty. The four hundred odd men who now found themselves marooned on this island far removed from the usual course of trade, and but seldom visited, had to depend upon a small pond for their drinking-supply. If this should be exhausted, their position would be perilous in the extreme. Two boats had been despatched to summon aid if possible. One to see if there were not some cruiser at Cat Island, with orders to proceed to Nassau, and the other to make for the island of Exhuma.

A little settlement composed of tents and wig-wams made from ship's wreckage soon grew up. Friend and foe mingled together in hunting for conches, or in sports to while away the time.