Having placed a prize crew on the Frolic, Captain Jones began the work of repairing the damage done aloft with a view of overhauling some of the merchantmen that had formed the convoy. As he began this work a sail was seen rising above the horizon to windward and the crew made haste with the work, at first, for they thought it might be one of the convoy. But when the sails were fairly in view they gave over the task, for it appeared that the ship was a big man-o’-war. A little later still they learned that it was the Poictiers, a seventy-four, commanded by Captain John Poer Beresford. The victory over the Frolic was to be of no value to the United States save through its moral influence. Both the Frolic and the Wasp were carried to Bermuda, and it was there that the garbled report of the fight was written.

The Wasp was taken into the British navy under the same name, but she was lost at sea without having accomplished anything.

What the first American Wasp did has already been related in the story of the naval actions of the Revolution.

Captain Jones and his crew, having soon been exchanged, returned home, where they were received with the honors due to “fine, able-bodied seamen” who had thrashed an enemy in such thorough fashion. The Congress voted $25,000 to them as a reward, and Captain Jones was soon placed in command of the frigate Macedonian, which was captured from the enemy, as will be told in the next chapter.

CHAPTER VII
BROUGHT THE MACEDONIAN INTO PORT

STORY OF THE SECOND FRIGATE DUEL OF THE WAR OF 1812—THE MACEDONIAN WAS A NEW SHIP, AND HAD BEEN BUILT WITH A FULL KNOWLEDGE OF THE YANKEE FRIGATES—WHIPPED, BUT NOT DESTROYED—ESTIMATING A CREW’S SKILL BY THE NUMBER OF SHOTS THAT HIT—SUPPOSE THE ARMAMENTS OF THE SHIPS HAD BEEN REVERSED—IMPRESSED AMERICANS KILLED WHEN FORCED TO FIGHT AGAINST THEIR OWN FLAG—“THE NOBLEST SIGHT IN NATUR’”—A FIRST-RATE FRIGATE, AS A PRIZE, BROUGHT HOME BY BRAVE DECATUR—ENTHUSIASTIC CELEBRATIONS OF THE VICTORY THROUGHOUT THE UNITED STATES.

Of all the battles between American and British ships there was none so often discussed, and none so well remembered among American seamen, previous to and even after the civil war, as that between the United States, commanded by Captain Stephen Decatur, and the Macedonian, commanded by Captain John Surnam Carden. And the reasons for this were that it was a well-fought battle, the victory for the Americans was well won, and the Macedonian was brought into port, and for many years she carried the Stars and Stripes proudly—flaunted the flag in the faces of British officers in a hundred different parts of the world, and at the last was sent to the Naval Academy at Annapolis, where, as a practice ship for the midshipmen, she not only strengthened their muscles and increased their knowledge, but she stirred their patriotic souls in a way that no other ship could have done.

On October 8, 1812, Commander Rodgers sailed from Boston with the President, the United States, the Congress, and the Argus, but the squadron separated four days later, the President and the Congress taking one course, and the United States and the Argus another. A little later still the Argus held to an easterly course, while the United States headed away for a cruise between the Azores and the Canary Islands.

Meantime the British frigate Macedonian, a ship that was built of oak, and had been afloat less than two years, had sailed from England, bound south, and in the course of her voyage put in at Madeira for a supply of the wine that in those days was as popular among drinking people as the sparkling French wine is in this. While there Captain Carden heard that the American frigate Essex was expected to cruise between the Madeiras and the Canaries, to intercept British commerce, and at this the Macedonian was headed for that ground to capture the audacious Yankee.

On Sunday morning, October 25, 1812, the United States was cruising along under easy sail about half-way between the Azores and the Canary Islands. It was a beautiful day. A stiff southeasterly breeze swept through the rigging. The sunlit sea was flecked over with racing white-caps and purpled in broad fields wherever the shadows of the fluffy clouds fell upon it. It was just the kind of a day when a good seaman could handle a frigate as a yachtsman might handle a catboat.