Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1852-01-07

conqueror was forced to leave his prize.
The helm of the Wasp was therefore
put up and the ship ran off free, in order
to repair her rigging and to draw the
nearest vessel of the enemy from its con-
sorts.
The second stranger continued her chase
of the Wasp until he got quite near, when
he shot across her stern, gave her par
ting broadside, and beat up towards his
consort, whose signal guns of fdistress now
echoed along the mighty deep.
The Wasp left her prize in such haste,
as to be ignorant of her name and force.
When the sea gives up its dead, and the
crew of the Avon and the little band OF
Blakely, shall muster together at the final
Judgment, then, and then only, shall the
conqueror know his yanquished foe.
The Wasp was soon lost amidst the
darkness of the night, while the Castillian,
the vessel that came to the assistance of
the enemy, and his consorts, hovered
around the wreck of the prize, and endea-
vored to save the crew.
AS the morning watch was called, the
Avon gave a sudden roll to leeward, then
setting swiftly by the stern, she sank with
curling sound, while her dead men foa-
ted in ghostly and bloody forms upon the
summer sea. With heavy hearts the En-
glish cruisers lowered their ensigns at
half-mast, and left the ocean tomb oftheir
sister, firing minute guns in memory of
their brave.
Having repaired her damages, which
were principally in spars and rigging, the
Wasp continued her cruise to the west
ward, and on the 18th of September, fell
ter scuttling her, She overhauled and took
the brig Bacchus. This vessel she soon
sent to final resting place in oceans
realms. AS she neared the Western Isl
ands an armed brig hove in sight. Crowd
ing on all sail, the gallant Blakely fred
shot across her bows, and received her
descending flag as token of submission.
The vessel proved to be the Atlanta, of
eight guns and nineteen minute men,
Midshipman Daniel Geisinger, now post
captain in the service, was put on board
of her as prize master, and as the prize
slowly parted from the conqueror at the
dim hour of evening, the prize-master and
his crew were the last Americans who
heheld the Wasp and her gallant band,
and lived to tell the tale.
On the 9th of October following, the
Swedish brig Adonis, from Rio, bound to
Falmouth, was boarded by the Wasp in
latitude II deg. 35 min. North, longitude
80 deg. 10 min. West, and two passcn-
gers, Lieut.. Mcknight, and masters mate,
Lyman, late of the gallant Essex, were
taken from her The Swede then pursu-
ed his course, while the American cruiser
continued to the Southwark under easy
sail. AT 4, P. NJ, her topsail dipped in
the southern ocean; and when the sun
set, she was seen no more.
On the final end of the Wasp, rumor
has been busy with her thousand tongues.
AT one time she was said to have been
lost upon the desolate coast of Africa,
while her hardy seamen battlcd with the
Arabs of the desert.
At another time, she was said 70 have
been sunk in gale off the Spanish shore,
after an action with an England frigate. AT
one time she was supposed to have been
lost in the wild ocean, alone. At another,
blown up by the accidental ignition of her
magazine History being silent upon the
subject, the pen of imagination must trace
her last moments.
Itwas an awful night in South Allan
tic-the waves leapt in mighty masses,
like spectre knights in dusky armor, upon
. their fire tipped crests, like the crimson
plumes of hell's battalion, played with
the clouds that huttered in the breeze
Loud rolled the thunder of heaven, and
round the horizon the lightning-likc
tongues of thousand adders forked in
, air, or wreathcd around the magazines of
hail, that reared their pale blue bodies
upon the bosom of the storm. The wind
swept in one unbroken howl, and the din
of the dashing waters. completed the
dreadful music of the elementary war.
The sails of the mariners bark were
no where to be seen. 1t seemed as though
men had left the ocean in its majesty to
his God, while the clouds and darkness,
the whirlwind and water-spout, the light
ming and the deepmouthed thunder, gave
terrific evidence of the presence of the
Creator. But hark A cannon family
echoes! A pale sepulchral light family
glared upon the deep! And now, with
the velocity of the wounded whale, slOop
of war, with her sails in strips, her spars
twisted, splintered and broken, her bull
warks partly carried away, her rudder
gone, comes down before the wind. She
falls off her course-now she buries her
head in foam, and now her stern seems
fast disappearing in the awful hollow of
the deep. Sea after sea rolls over her
numbered deck, and the seamen lashed to
her sides, seemed waiting the hour of near
destruction.
The commander at the wheel, with his
brazcn trumpet, is silent. His bright eye
flashed like that of the chained eagle, as
he scans the face of the deep. A few
hours more and the vessel must founder
at sea. Her banner still floats in ribbons
at her peake faint light CLEANS from
starboard pinnacle, and the signal bell