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?”