BRITISH CRUISERS.

The peace of 1783 between the United States and Great Britain had been extorted by the necessities, rather than obtained by the good will of England. Though, by a formal treaty, the United States were declared free and independent, they were still hated in Great Britain as rebellious colonies. That such was the general opinion is manifest from the letters of John Adams, our first minister to the court of St. James, and from other authentic contemporary accounts. Of course there were a few men of sufficiently enlarged and comprehensive minds to forget the past and urge, even in parliament, that the trade of America would be more valuable as an ally than a dependent; but the number of these was small indeed. The common sentiment in England toward the young republic was one of scornful detestation. We were despised as provincials, we were hated as rebels. In the permanency of our institutions there was scarce a believer in all Britain. This was especially the case prior to the adoption of the federal constitution. Both in parliament and out, it was publicly boasted that the Union would soon fall to pieces, and that, finding their inability to govern themselves, the different States would, one by one, supplicate to be received back as colonies. This vain and empty expectation long lingered in the popular mind, and was not wholly eradicated until after the war of 1812.

Consequently the new republic was treated with arrogant contempt. One of the first acts of John Adams, as minister to England, had been to propose placing the navigation and trade between the dominions of Great Britain and the territories of the United States, on a basis of complete reciprocity. By acceding to such a measure England might have gained much and could have lost but little. The proposal was rejected almost with terms of insult, and Mr. Adams was sternly informed that a "no other would be entertained." The consequences were that the free negroes of Jamaica, and others of the poorer inhabitants of the British West India Islands were reduced to starvation by being deprived of their usual supplies from the United States. This unreasonable policy on the part of England naturally exasperated the Americans, and one of the first acts of the federal government in 1789 was to adopt retaliatory measures. A navy law was passed, which has since been the foundation of all our treaties of reciprocity with England. A protective tariff was also adopted as another means of retaliation. In these measures, the United States, being a young nation with unlimited territory, had everything to gain, and England all to lose. Great Britain was first to tire of restrictive measures, and, by a repeal on her part, invited a repeal on ours.

In another way Great Britain exasperated the popular feeling here against her, and even forced the American government, once or twice, to the verge of war. By the treaty of peace, all military posts held by England within the limits of the United States were to be given up. Michilimacinac, Detroit, Oswegotche, Point au Fer and Dutchman's Point were long held in defiance of the compact. These posts became the centre of intrigues among the savages of the Northwest. Arms were here distributed to the Indians, and disturbances on the American frontier were fomented. The war on the Miami, which was brought to a bloody close by Wayne's victory, was, principally, the result of such secret machinations. In short, England regarded the treaty of 1783 as a truce rather than a pacification, and long, held to the hope of being able yet to punish the colonies for their rebellion. In two celebrated letters written by John Adams from Great Britain, he used the following decided language in reference to the secret designs of England:

"If she can bind Holland in her shackles, and France from internal dissensions is unable to interfere, she will make war immediately against us." This was in 1787. Two years before he had expressed, the same ideas. "Their present system, as far as I can penetrate it," he wrote, "is to maintain a determined peace with all Europe, in order that they may war singly against America, if they should think it necessary."

A sentiment of such relentless hostility, which no attempt was made to disguise, but which was arrogantly paraded on every occasion, could not fail to exasperate those feelings of dislike on the part of America, which protracted war had engendered. This mutual hatred between the two nations arose from the enmity of the people rather than of the cabinets, "There is too much reason to believe," wrote our minister, "that if the nation had another hundred million to spend, they would soon force the ministry into another war with us." On the side of the United States, it required all the prudence of Washington, sustained by his hold on the affections of the people, to restrain them from a war with England, after that power had refused to surrender the military posts.

A third element of discord arose when England joined the coalition against France, in 1793. The course which the former had pursued for the preceding ten years, had, as we have seen, tended to alienate the people of America from her and nourish sentiments of hostility in their bosoms. On the other hand, France, with that address for which she is eminent, had labored to heighten the good feelings already existing between herself and the United States. A treaty of alliance and commerce bound the two countries; but the courteous demeanor of France cemented us to her by still stronger ties, those of popular will.

Before the revolution broke out in Paris, the enthusiasm of America toward France could scarce be controlled. There can be no doubt that, if the subsequent excesses had not alarmed all prudent friends of liberty, the people of this country could not have been restrained from engaging in the struggle between France and England; but the reign of terror, backed by the insolence of Citizen Genet the minister of the French republic, and afterward by the exactions of the Directory, checked the headlong enthusiasm that otherwise would have embroiled us in the terrible wars of that period. In his almost more than human wisdom, Washington had selected a course of strict neutrality, from which public enthusiasm, nor fear of loss of public favor could swerve him. His course was wise and proper for the still weak confederacy; and every day was productive of events which showed the wisdom of this decision. Neither Great Britain nor France, however, was gratified by this neutrality. Each nation wished the aid of the Americans, and became arrogant and insulting when they found the resolution of the Americans unbroken. Napoleon, on the part of France, saw the impolicy of such treatment, and when he became first consul, he hastened to abandon it; but England relaxed little or nothing. Circumstances, moreover, made her conduct more irritating than that of France, and hence prolonged and increased the exasperation felt toward her in America.

As a great naval power, the policy of England has been to maintain certain maritime laws, which her jurists claim to be part of the code of nations and enforce in her admiralty courts. One principle of these laws is this, that warlike munitions must become contraband in war; in other words, that a neutral vessel cannot carry such into the enemy's port. Hence, if a vessel, sailing under the flag of the United States, should be captured on the high seas, bound for France, during the prevalence of a war between that power and England, and be found to be laden with ship-timber or other manufactured or unmanufactured articles for warlike purposes, the vessel would, by the law of nations, become a prize to the captors. The right to condemn a ship carrying such contraband goods has always been recognized by civilized nations, and, indeed, it is founded in common justice. England, however, having supreme control at sea, and being tempted by the hope of destroying the sinews of her adversary's strength, resolved to stretch this rule so as to embrace provisions as well as munitions of war. She proceeded gradually to her point. She first issued an order, on the 8th of June, 1793, for capturing and bringing into port "all vessels laden, wholly or in part with corn, flour, or meal, and destined to France, or to other countries, if occupied by the arms of that nation." Such vessels were not condemned, nor their cargoes seized; but the latter were to be purchased on behalf of the English Government; or, if not, then the vessels, on giving due security, were allowed to proceed to any neutral port. Of course the price of provisions in France and in England was materially different, and a lucrative traffic for the United States was, in this way, destroyed. Moreover, this proceeding was a comparative novelty in the law of nations, and, however it might suit the purposes of Great Britain, it was a gross outrage on America. In November of the same year, it was followed by a still more glaring infraction of the rights of neutrals, in an order, condemning to capture and adjudication all vessels laden with the produce of any French colony, or with supplies for such a colony.

The fermentation in consequence of this order rose to such a height in America, that it required all the skill of Washington to avert a war. The president, however, determining to preserve peace if possible, despatched Jay to London as a minister plenipotentiary, by whose frank explanations, redress was in a measure obtained for the past, and a treaty negotiated, not, indeed, adequate to justice, but better than could be obtained again, when it expired in 1806.

The relaxation in the rigor of the order of November, 1793, soon proved to be more nominal than real; and from 1794 until the peace of Amiens in 1802, the commerce of the United States continued to be the prey of British cruisers and privateers. After the renewal of the war, the fury of the belligerents increased, and with it the stringent measures adopted by Napoleon and Great Britain. The French Emperor, boldly avowing his intention to crush England, forbade by a series of decrees, issued from Berlin, Milan and Rambouillet, the importation of her commodities into any part of Europe under his control; and England, equally sweeping in her acts, declared all such ports in a state of blockade, thus rendering any neutral vessel liable to capture, which should attempt to enter them. The legality of a blockade, where there is not a naval power off the coast competent to maintain such blockade, has always been denied by the lesser maritime powers. Its effect, in the present instance, was virtually to exclude the United States from foreign commerce. In these extreme measures, Napoleon and England were equally censured; but the policy of the latter affected the Americans far more than the former. The exasperation against Great Britain became extreme and pervaded the whole community; that against France was slighter and confined to the more intelligent. Napoleon was first to begin these outrages on the rights of neutrals; but his injustice was practically felt only on land; while England was first to introduce the paper blockade, a measure ruinous to American merchants. This was finally done on May 16, 1806, when Great Britain announced a "blockade of the coast rivers and ports, from the river Elbe to the port of Brest inclusive." On the 21st of November, of the same year, Napoleon in retaliation, issued a decree from Berlin, placing the British Islands in a state of blockade. This decree was followed by a still more stringent order in council on the part of England.

It now became necessary for the United States either to engage in a war, or to withdraw her commerce from the ocean. The popular voice demanded the former course. Though France was, in the abstract, as unjust as England, her oppressive measures did not affect American commerce, and hence the indignation of the people was directed chiefly against Great Britain; but with the president it was different. Though his sympathies were with. France, his judgment was against her as well as England. In his maturer wisdom, he could now appreciate the great good sense of Washington's neutrality. Besides, the grand old man Thomas Jefferson was determined to preserve peace, for it was his favorite maxim that "the best war is more fatal than the worst peace." A further reason led him to refuse the alternative of war. He was not without hope that one or both of the belligerents would return to reason and repeal the obnoxious acts, if the conduct of the United States, instead of being aggressive, should be patient. Actuated by these views, the president recommended to congress the passage of an embargo act. An embargo law was enacted in December, 1807. By it all American vessels abroad were called home, and those in the United States were prohibited from leaving port. In consequence of this measure, the commerce of the country was annihilated in an hour; and harbors, once flourishing and prosperous, soon became only resorts for rotting ships. There can be no question now that the embargo was a serious blunder. It crippled the American resources for the war that ensued; made the eastern States hostile to Jefferson's, as well as his successor's administration, and tended to foster in the minds of the populace at large, an idea that we shrank from a contest with Great Britain in consequence of inherent weakness.

There was a fourth and last cause of exasperation, against England, which assisted more than all the rest to produce the war of 1812. This was the British claim to the right of impressment. In the terrible struggles in which England found herself engaged with France, her maritime force was her chief dependence, and accordingly she increased the number of her ships unprecedentedly; but it soon became difficult to man all these vessels. The thriving commerce pursued by the United States, as early as 1793, drew large numbers of English seamen into our mercantile marine service, where they obtained better wages than on board English vessels. By the fiction of her law, a man born an English subject can never throw off this allegiance. Great Britain determined to seize her seamen wherever found and force them, to serve her flag. In consequence, her cruisers stopped every American vessel they met and searched the crew in order to reclaim the English, Scotch or Irish on board. Frequently it happened that persons born in America were taken as British subjects; for, where the boarding officer was judge and jury of a man's nationality, there was little chance of justice, especially if the seaman was a promising one, or the officer's ship was short-handed. In nine months, during parts of the years 1796 and 1797, the American minister at the court of London had made application for the discharge of two hundred and seventy-one native born Americans, proved to have been thus impressed. These outrages against personal independence were regarded among the great masses of Americans with the utmost indignation. Such injuries exasperated every soul not made sordid by selfish desire for gain. That an innocent man, peaceably pursuing an honorable vocation, should be forcibly carried on board a British man-of-war, and there be compelled to remain, shut out from all hope of ever seeing his family, seemed, to the robust sense of justice in the popular breast, little better than Algerian bondage. The rage of the people was increased by tales of horror and aggression that occasionally reached their ears from these prison ships. Stories were told of impressed Americans escaping the ships, who, on being recaptured, were whipped until they died. In one instance, a sailor, goaded to madness, seized the captain and, springing overboard, drowned himself and his tormentor.

Every attempt to arrange this difficulty with England had signally failed. The United States offered that all American seamen should be registered and provided with a certificate of citizenship; that the number of crews should be limited by the tonnage of the ship, and if this number was exceeded, British subjects enlisted should be liable to impressment; that deserters should be given up, and that a prohibition should be issued by each party against clandestinely secreting and carrying off the seamen of the other. In 1800 and again in 1806, it was attempted to form treaties in reference to this subject; but the pertinacity with which England adhered to her claim frustrated every effort at reconciliation. In 1803, the difficulty had nearly been adjusted by a convention, Great Britain agreeing to abandon her claim to impressment on the high seas, if allowed to retain it on the narrow seas, or those immediately surrounding her island; but this being rejected as inadmissible by the United States, all subsequent efforts at an arrangement proved unsuccessful. The impressment of seamen continued and was the source of daily increasing abuse. Not only Americans, but Danes, Swedes, Germans, Russians, Frenchmen, Spaniards and Portuguese were seized and forcibly carried off by British men-of-war. There are even well attested instances of Asiatics and Africans being thus impressed. In short, as the war in Europe approached its climax, seamen became more scarce in the British Navy, and, all decency being thrown aside, crews were filled up under color of this claim, regardless even of the show of justice. In 1811, it was computed that the number of men impressed from the American marine service amounted to not less than six thousand.

In the spring of 1807, a crisis approached. A small British squadron lay in American waters near the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, watching some French frigates blockaded at Annapolis. Three of the crew of one of the vessels and one of another had deserted and enlisted on board the United States frigate Chesapeake, lying at the Washington Navy yard. The British minister made a formal demand for their surrender. Our government refused compliance because it was ascertained that two of the men were natives of the United States, and there was strong presumptive evidence that a third was, likewise. No more was said; but the commander of the British squadron took the matter into his own hands.

The Chesapeake, on going to sea on the morning of June 22, 1807, was intercepted by the British frigate Leopard, whose commander hailed the commodore and informed him that he had a despatch for him. Unsuspicious of unfriendliness, the Chesapeake was laid to, when a British boat, bearing a lieutenant, came alongside. Barron politely received him in his cabin, when the lieutenant presented a demand from the commander of the Leopard that the bearer be allowed to muster the crew of the Chesapeake, that he might select and carry away the deserters. The demand was authorized by instructions received from Vice-Admiral Berkeley, at Halifax. Barron told the lieutenant that his crew should not be mustered, excepting by his own officers, when the lieutenant withdrew and the Chesapeake moved on.

Having some fear of mischief, Barron made some preparation to resist; but it was too late to prepare to cope with the Leopard, which followed close in her wake, and the commander called out through his trumpet:

"Commodore Barron must be aware that the vice-admiral's commands must be obeyed." The Chesapeake held on her course although this was repeated. The Leopard sent two shots athwart her bows. These were followed by a broadside poured into the hull of the Chesapeake. The American vessel, having no priming in her guns, was unable to return the fire, and after being severely bruised by repeated broadsides she surrendered to her assailants. Her crew was mustered by the British officers and the deserters carried away. One of them, a British subject, was hanged at Halifax and the others, being Americans, were spared on their consenting to enlist in the English Navy. Commodore Barron was tried on charge of neglect of duty in not being prepared for action, found guilty, and suspended from the service for five years without pay or emolument.

On March 4, 1809, Mr. James Madison of Virginia succeeded Mr. Thomas Jefferson as president of the United States. His cabinet were Robert Smith, secretary of state; Albert Gallatin, secretary of the treasury; William Eustis, secretary of war; Paul Hamilton, secretary of the navy, and Caesar Rodney, attorney-general. There was a powerful party in the nation hostile to his political creed, and consequently opposed to his administration and the war with England which seemed inevitable.

French and English nations became more embroiled in trouble, which increased the trouble between the United States and Great Britain.

At last the English government sent men-of-war to cruise off the principal ports of the United States to intercept American merchant-vessels and send them to England as lawful prizes. In this business, the Little Belt, a British sloop-of-war, was engaged off the coast of Virginia in the spring of 1811, where, on the 16th of April, she met the American frigate President, under Captain Ludlow, bearing the broad pennant of Commodore Rodgers. Commodore Rodgers, being aboard the President, hailed the sloop and asked:

"What sloop is that?"

A cannon-shot was his reply.

"Captain Ludlow," said the commodore, "we will teach that fellow good manners. Are your guns in order?"

"They are."

"We have been taught a lesson by Barron's mishap. Train the guns and be ready to fire."

With a speaking trumpet, the commodore once more hailed the sloop with:

"What sloop is that?"

This time he was greeted with a broadside.

"Fire!" cried the commodore, and the cannon of the President sent a broadside of heavy shot against the impudent stranger.

The conflict lasted only about ten minutes, when Captain Bingham, after losing eleven killed and twenty-one wounded, gave a satisfactory answer. The vessels parted company, the Little Belt sailing for Halifax for repairs.

It was in the year 1809 that the American brig Dover, one of the few of American merchant vessels which had managed to escape the ruin of Jefferson's embargo act, was sailing among the lesser Antilles. The master-captain Parson was a thorough seaman with a heart as big as an ox.

British cruisers were a greater bugbear to American vessels than pirates, and Captain Parson kept a constant lookout for them.

On the afternoon of an Autumnal day, when he found himself becalmed off a small island not down on the chart, the skipper felt no little uneasiness. He paced his deck impatiently, occasionally turning his eye to every quarter, surveying the horizon for some sign of a gale of wind.

"Mr. Brown, Mr. Brown," he called to his mate.

"Aye, aye, sir," answered Mr. Brown, hurrying forward.

"Mr. Brown, look across that point of land sou-west the island--get your glass."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The mate ran and got his glass. He came back to the captain and leveled it in the direction indicated by the captain.

"Do you see anything?"

"I do, sir."

"What is it?"

"I see the top gallant of a ship."

"I thought I was not mistaken. Can you make out her colors?"

"I will go aloft, captain, and see."

The mate ascended to the foretop cross-tree, and took a long survey of the stranger. When he descended the captain asked:

"What is she?"

"An English frigate."

"I knew it!" growled the captain. "I felt it in my bones. We shall have the rascals overhauling us anon. Egad, I wish we had an armed crew and heavy guns--I would not wait for congress to declare war."

"But captain, while this dead calm lasts, she cannot move more than ourselves."

"Very true, Mr. Brown, but, egad, she will catch the breeze first, and come up with it. Thank heaven we have no man aboard our ship born out of the United States. They cannot impress any for Englishmen."

The mate answered:

"They care little whether we are English or American born; if they are short of hands, they will take such of our crews as they want."

The captain paced the deck uneasily, occasionally muttering:

"Zounds, don't I wish I had a few heavy guns."

There was but one small brass piece aboard, and it was only a six pounder, unable to render much service. His country was nominally at peace with Great Britain; but that did not prevent honest merchantmen suffering at the hands of the British cruisers.

The afternoon wore away and the sun had set before there was breeze enough to fill a sail. Just as the vessel began to glide slowly away from the small island not more than two miles distant, the mate, who had ascended to the lookout's position cried:

"Boat, ho!"

"Where away?"

"To leeward, heading direct for us."

The captain seized his glass and turned it toward the island. The sombre shades of twilight had already gathered over the scene; but he saw through them quite distinctly a boat pulled by four men, while a fifth sat in the stern holding the tiller. The steersman kept the small island between them and the vessel Captain Parson had discovered.

As the breeze grew stiffer and the Dover began to fill away, the mate, who had never taken his glass off the approaching boat, suddenly cried:

"Captain Parson, they are signalling us to heave to!"

"So they are, by zounds!" the puzzled captain exclaimed.

"What will you do?"

After a moment's hesitation, the captain said:

"Heave to, by Jove, and see what they want!"

The order was given, and the vessel rocked idly on the waves, while the boat drew rapidly nearer. At last it was near enough for them to make out the five men dressed in the uniform of British marines.

"Brown, I don't like this. Those fellows are from his majesty's frigate, there is no doubt, and they mean us trouble."

"Wait and see, captain," the mate answered, coming down to the deck. "There are but five of them, and, so far as I can see, all are unarmed." The deck by this time was crowded with the crew, all waiting in anxious expectation and dread.

"It am de press gang!" said the cook, who was a negro black as the ace of spades named Job. "Dey am comin' to take off everybody dat looks like a Britisher. Golly! do I look like a Britisher?"

Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, a smile flitted momentarily over the faces of the officers and crew. The boat by this time was within hailing distance, though it had grown so dark the inmates of it could be only dimly seen.

"Boat, ahoy!" cried the captain.

"Aye, aye, sir!" came back the response.

"What boat is that?"

"A boat from his majesty's ship the Sea-Wing. We wish to come aboard your vessel."

When the captain asked them their business, they frankly confessed that they were deserters and had been secreted all day on the island watching an opportunity to reach the American brig.

Their story was a probable one, and the captain and his officers believed it. A rope was tossed to them, and in a few moments five stalwart jack tars in the uniform of the British Navy stood on the deck.

One tall, fine-looking seaman, who was every inch a gentleman, and whose conversation was evidence of education and refinement, told their story.

Three of them were Americans, and two were Swedes. They had been seized by the press gang and made slaves on board the frigate.

"It has been many years," said the tall sailor, "since I saw my native land. I am a native of Hartford, Connecticut."

"Why didn't you escape sooner?" the Captain asked.

"Escape, captain, is no easy matter, and is attended with serious consequences. They usually hang one who tries to desert. I am a gunner, by profession, and but for the fact they need my services against the French, I would have been hung long since for trying to desert."

The gunner impressed Captain Parson favorably. He was a man between forty and forty-five years of age. His eyes were deep blue, his hair light. His round, full face was smooth shaven. As he stood on the deck, his brawny arms folded across his massive chest, he looked a perfect model of a man and a tower of strength.

Captain Parson led him aside and said:

"You are no common sailor."

"I'm only a gunner now, captain."

"But in the past?"

"I once commanded a ship. I will tell you my story on the morrow. It is a sad one, but, thank God, there's nothing in it at which I need blush. For the present, however, let us get along as fast as your ship can make it, for the Sea-Wing is a swift vessel, and if we are not beyond reach of her vision before the dawn of day, we shall be overhauled."

Captain Parson knew that some evil consequences might result from being overhauled by the Sea-Wing, and consequently every stitch of canvas was spread and the brig sped away with a good stiff breeze. It was a long and anxious night; master and crew were all on deck. No one slept. The coming dawn would tell the story. If the frigate were in sight, then they might expect the very worst; even the ship might be captured and borne away as a prize and the entire crew enslaved.

Dawn came at last. Each anxious heart welcomed and yet dreaded to see the new day. Sailors and officers swept the sea as it grew lighter, and, to their dread, just as the sun rose over the glossy surface of the sea, a snowy speck appeared far off to the westward.

The lookout at the mast-head first called their attention to it, and as it drew nearer and nearer the tall handsome gunner went aloft with a glass to see if he could recognize it. In a few moments he came back and said:

"It is the frigate, sir."

That she was in full chase, there could not be a doubt. Captain Parson had little hope of escaping; but he put the Dover on her best sailing point and scudded away before the wind with every stitch of canvas they could carry.

"Oh, golly! I hope dey won't mistake--dey won't mistake dis chile for a Britisher!" groaned Job the cook, who was trembling from head to foot, and whose black skin was almost pale.

The five deserters were pale but calm. They seemed to read their fate and bore it like men. A flogging was the very least they could expect; but the chances were that every one would hang. The frigate was the swifter sailor and overhauled them so rapidly, that, in two hours and a half, she was within a mile of the brig.

Suddenly a wreath of white smoke curled up from the forecastle, and a moment later a ball came skipping over the water under their larboard deck, while the boom of a cannon sounded over the sea. As the fine spray clipped from the crested waves by the shot, flew over the deck, Mr. Brown said:

"Captain, it's no use, she will be near enough to sink us in ten minutes."

"Heave to, Brown. Oh! I wish I had arms and a crew!"

"Captain," interposed the tall, handsome gunner, "I--I know their skill and metal. If you had a gun--a single gun of proper calibre, I could sink her. I am called the best shot in the English navy."

"We have only a six pounder," answered the captain, ruefully, pointing to their only gun. It was but an inferior piece, and when the gunner examined it, he turned to his four anxious companions and said:

"It would be suicide."

Then the five sailors stood near the main gangway with arms folded, heads erect, and resigned like brave men to their fate. The frigate came bearing down upon them like a great mountain, and soon lay alongside. The captain and a score of marines all armed with muskets, came aboard.

"So ho!" cried the captain, "you have my live runaways snug enough. Seize them and carry them aboard, lieutenant."

A young officer with ten men now seized the five deserters, handcuffed them and led them to their ship which lay alongside. As they went over the rail, the brutal captain said something about swinging at the yard arm. Turning to Parson, he said:

"Captain, muster your crew and have them pass before me."

Much as the captain disliked to do so, he was in the power of the brutal Englishman and forced to do his bidding. As the sailors passed slowly before him, the Briton eyed each carefully. Suddenly he pointed to a stout young sailor named Tom, and cried:

"Stop sir, you are an Englishman!"

"I am not, capen, ye's mistaken, I was born at Plymouth, Massachusetts."

"Don't dispute my word, sir. I know you, seize him!"

Though three of Tom's messmates offered to swear that he was a native of Massachusetts, he was seized, ironed and hurried away. Two more were selected, despite the protests of Captain Parson, who was raging like a madman, and hurried aboard the frigate. The fourth man halted in the procession was Job, the colored cook.

"Stop, sir, I want you!" said the English officer.

[Illustration: "DO YOU THINK DAR IS ANY ANGLER SAXUN BLOOD IN DESE VEINS?"]

"Want me, Capen? oh, golly! I ain't a Britisher!" cried Job, gesticulating wildly. "Do I look like I war a Britisher? Do you think dar is any Angler Sacksun blood in dese veins?"

Job howled and appealed in vain. The commander of the Sea Wing declared him to be an English negro, and he was hurried away to try the hard service on board a British war vessel.

Having culled the crew of the Dover to his heart's content, the haughty Briton went aboard his own ship and continued his cruise, leaving Captain Parson expressing his ideas in such language as no parson should use.