Thus ended one of the most famous of American sea-fights. It was another lesson that helped to stop the English from singing
"Britannia rules the waves."
But the little Wasp and her gallant crew did not get the good of their famous victory. While they were busy repairing damages a sail appeared above the far horizon. It came on, growing larger and larger, and soon it was seen to be a big man-of-war.
The game was up with the Wasp and her prize, for the new ship was the Poictiers, a great seventy-four ship-of-the-line. She snapped up the Wasp and the Frolic and carried them off to the British isle of Bermuda, where the victors found themselves prisoners.
A few words will finish the story of the Wasp. She was taken into the British navy; but she did not have to fight for her foes, for she went down at sea without doing anything. So she was saved from the disgrace of fighting against her country.
Captain Jones and his men were soon exchanged, and Congress voted them a reward of $25,000 for their gallant fight, while the brave captain was given the command of the frigate Macedonian, which had been captured from the British. It was Captain Stephen Decatur, the hero of Tripoli, that captured her, in the good ship United States.
Would you like to hear about the other Wasps? There were two more of them, you know. They were good ships, but ill luck came to them all. The first Wasp did her work in the Revolution, and had to be burned at Philadelphia to keep her from the British when they took that city. The second one, as I have just told you, was lost at sea, and so was the third. You may see that bad luck came to them all.
The third Wasp was, like the second, a sloop-of-war, but she was a large and heavy one. And though in the end she was lost at sea and followed the other Wasp to the bottom, she did not do so without sending some British messengers there in advance.
I will tell you the story of this Wasp, and how she used her sting, but it must be done in few words.
She was built at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and sailed on May 1, 1814, her captain being Johnston Blakeley; her crew a set of young countrymen who were so unused to the sea that most of them were seasick for a week. Their average age was only twenty-three years, so they were little more than boys. Yet the most of them could hit a deer with a rifle, and they soon showed they could hit a Reindeer with a cannon. For near the end of June they came across a British brig named the Reindeer, and in less than twenty minutes had battered her in so lively a fashion that her flag came down and she was a prize.