i now went below, to see how matters appeared there. the first object i met was a man bearing a limb, which had just been detached from some suffering wretch. pursuing my way to the ward-room, i necessarily passed through the steerage, which was strewed with the wounded: it was a sad spectacle, made more appalling by the groans and cries which rent the air. some were groaning, others were swearing most bitterly, a few were praying, while those last arrived were begging most piteously to have their wounds dressed next. the surgeon and his mate were smeared with blood from head to foot: they looked more like butchers than doctors. having so many patients, they had once shifted their quarters from the cockpit to the steerage; they now removed to the ward-room, and the long table, round which the officers had sat over many a merry feast, was soon covered with the bleeding forms of maimed and mutilated seamen.

while looking round the ward-room, i heard a noise above, occasioned by the arrival of the boats from the conquering frigate. very soon a lieutenant, i think his name was nicholson, came into the ward-room, and said to the busy surgeon, “how do you do, doctor?”

“i have enough to do,” replied he, shaking his head thoughtfully; “you have made wretched work for us!” these officers were not strangers to each other, for the reader will recollect that the commanders and officers of these two frigates, had exchanged visits when we were lying at norfolk, some months before.

i now set to work to render all the aid in my power to the sufferers. our carpenter, named reed, had his leg cut off. i helped to carry him to the after ward-room; but he soon breathed out his life there, and then i assisted in throwing his mangled remains overboard. we got out the cots as fast as possible; for most of them were stretched out on the gory deck. one poor fellow who lay with a broken thigh, begged me to give him water. i gave him some. he looked unutterable gratitude, drank, and died. it was with exceeding difficulty i moved through the steerage, it was so covered with mangled men, and so slippery with streams of blood. there was a poor boy there crying as if his heart would break. he had been servant to the bold boatswain, whose head was dashed to pieces. poor boy! he felt that he had lost a friend. i tried to comfort him by reminding him that he ought to be thankful for having escaped death himself.

here, also, i met one of my messmates, who showed the utmost joy at seeing me alive, for, he said, he had heard that i was killed. he was looking up his messmates, which he said was always done by sailors. we found two of our mess wounded. one was the swede, logholm, who fell overboard, as mentioned in a former chapter, and was nearly lost. we held him while the surgeon cut off his leg above the knee. the task was most painful to behold, the surgeon using his knife and saw on human flesh and bones, as freely as the butcher at the shambles does on the carcass of the beast! our other messmate suffered still more than the swede; he was sadly mutilated about the legs and thighs with splinters. such scenes of suffering as i saw in that ward-room, i hope never to witness again. could the civilized world behold them as they were, and as they often are, infinitely worse than on that occasion, it seems to me they would forever put down the barbarous practices of war, by universal consent.

most of our officers and men were taken on board the victor ship. i was left, with a few others, to take care of the wounded. my master, the sailing-master, was also among the officers, who continued in their ship. most of the men who remained were unfit for any service, having broken into the spirit-room and made themselves drunk; some of them broke into the purser’s room and helped themselves to clothing; while others, by previous agreement, took possession of their dead messmates’ property. for my own part i was content to help myself to a little of the officers’ provisions, which did me more good than could be obtained from rum. what was worse than all, however, was the folly of the sailors in giving spirit to their wounded messmates, since it only served to aggravate their distress.

among the wounded, was a brave fellow named wells. after the surgeon had amputated and dressed his arm, he walked about in fine spirits, as if he had received only a slight injury. indeed, while under the operation, he manifested a similar heroism—observing to the surgeon, “i have lost my arm in the service of my country; but i don’t mind it, doctor, it’s the fortune of war.” cheerful and gay as he was, he soon died. his companions gave him rum; he was attacked by fever and died. thus his messmates actually killed him with kindness.

we had all sorts of dispositions and temperaments among our crew. to me it was a matter of great interest to watch their various manifestations. some who had lost their messmates appeared to care nothing about it, while others were grieving with all the tenderness of women. of these, was the survivor of two seamen, who had formerly been soldiers in the same regiment; he bemoaned the loss of his comrade with expressions of profoundest grief. there were, also, two boatswain’s mates, named adams and brown, who had been messmates for several years in the same ship. brown was killed, or so wounded that he died soon after the battle. it was really a touching spectacle to see the rough, hardy features of the brave old sailor streaming with tears, as he picked out the dead body of his friend from among the wounded, and gently carried it to the ship’s side, saying to the inanimate form he bore, “o bill, we have sailed together in a number of ships, we have been in many gales and some battles, but this is the worst day i have seen! we must now part!” here he dropped the body into the deep, and then, a fresh torrent of tears streaming over his weather-beaten face, he added, “i can do no more for you. farewell! god be with you!” here was an instance of genuine friendship, worth more than the heartless professions of thousands, who, in the fancied superiority of their elevated position in the social circle, will deign nothing but a silly sneer at this record of a sailor’s grief.

the circumstance was rather a singular one, that in both the contending frigates the second boatswain’s mate bore the name of william brown, and that they both were killed; yet such was the fact.

the great number of the wounded kept our surgeon and his mate busily employed at their horrid work until late at night; and it was a long time before they had much leisure. i remember passing round the ship the day after the battle. coming to a hammock, i found some one in it apparently asleep. i spoke; he made no answer. i looked into the hammock; he was dead. my mess mates coming up, we threw the corpse overboard; that was no time for useless ceremony. the man had probably crawled to his hammock the day before, and, not being perceived in the general distress, bled to death! o war! who can reveal thy miseries!

when the crew of the united states first boarded our frigate, to take possession of her as their prize, our men, heated with the fury of the battle, exasperated with the sight of their dead and wounded shipmates, and rendered furious by the rum they had obtained from the spirit-room, felt and exhibited some disposition to fight their captors. but after the confusion had subsided, and part of our men were snugly stowed away in the american ship, and the remainder found themselves kindly used in their own, the utmost good feeling began to prevail. we took hold and cleansed the ship, using hot vinegar to take out the scent of the blood that had dyed the white of our planks with crimson. we also took hold and aided in fitting our disabled frigate for her voyage. this being accomplished, both ships sailed in company toward the american coast.

i soon felt myself perfectly at home with the american seamen; so much so, that i chose to mess with them. my shipmates also participated in similar feelings in both ships. all idea that we had been trying to shoot out each other’s brains so shortly before, seemed forgotten. we ate together, drank together, joked, sung, laughed, told yarns; in short, a perfect union of ideas, feelings, and purposes, seemed to exist among all hands.

a corresponding state of unanimity existed, i was told, among the officers. commodore decatur showed himself to be a gentleman as well as a hero in his treatment of the officers of the macedonian. when captain carden offered his sword to the commodore, remarking, as he did so, “i am an undone man. i am the first british naval officer that has struck his flag to an american:” the noble commodore either refused to receive the sword, or immediately returned it, smiling as he said, “you are mistaken, sir; your guerrière has been taken by us, and the flag of a frigate was struck before yours.” this somewhat revived the spirits of the old captain; but, no doubt, he still felt his soul stung with shame and mortification at the loss of his ship. participating as he did in the haughty spirit of the british aristocracy, it was natural for him to feel galled and wounded to the quick, in the position of a conquered man.

we were now making the best of our way to america. notwithstanding the patched-up condition of the macedonian, she was far superior, in a sailing capacity, to her conqueror. the united states had always been a dull sailer, and had been christened by the name of the old wagon. whenever a boat came alongside of our frigate, and the boatswain’s mate was ordered to “pipe away” the boat’s crew, he used to sound his shrill call on the whistle, and bawl out, “away, wagoners, away,” instead of “away, united states men, away.” this piece of pleasantry used to be rebuked by the officers, but in a manner that showed they enjoyed the joke. they usually replied, “boatswain’s mate, you rascal, pipe away united states men, not wagoners. we have no wagoners on board of a ship.” still, in spite of rebuke, the joke went on, until it grew stale by repetition. one thing was made certain however by the sailing qualities of the macedonian; which was, that if we had been disposed to escape from our foe before the action, we could have done so with all imaginable ease. this, however, would have justly exposed us to disgrace, while our capture did not. there was every reason why the united states should beat us. she was larger in size, heavier in metal, more numerous in men, and stronger built than the macedonian. another fact in her favor was, that our captain at first mistook her for the essex, which carried short carronades, hence he engaged her at long shot at first; for, as we had the weather gage, we could take what position we pleased. but this manœuvre only wasted our shot, and gave her the advantage, as she actually carried larger metal than we did. when we came to close action, the shot from the united states went through and through our ship, while ours struck her sides, and fell harmlessly into the water. this is to be accounted for both by the superiority of the metal and of the ship. her guns were heavier and her sides thicker than ours. some have said that her sides were stuffed with cork. of this, however, i am not certain. her superiority, both in number of men and guns, may easily be seen by the following statistics. we carried forty-nine guns; long eighteen-pounders on the main deck, and thirty-two pound carronades on the quarter deck and forecastle. our whole number of hands, including officers, men and boys, was three hundred. the united states carried four hundred and fifty men and fifty-four guns: long twenty-four pounders on the main deck, and forty-two pound carronades on the quarter deck and forecastle. so that in actual force she was immensely our superior.

to these should be added the consideration that the men in the two ships fought under the influence of different motives. many of our hands were in the service against their will; some of them were americans, wrongfully impressed, and inwardly hoping for defeat: while nearly every man in our ship sympathized with the great principle for which the american nation so nobly contended in the war of 1812. what that was, i suppose all my readers understand. the british, at war with france, had denied the americans the right to trade thither. she had impressed american seamen, and forcibly compelled their service in her navy; she had violated the american flag by insolently searching their vessels for her runaway seamen. free trade and sailors’ rights, therefore, were the objects contended for by the americans. with these objects our men could but sympathize, whatever our officers might do.

on the other hand, the crew of our opponent had all shipped voluntarily for the term of two years only; (most of our men were shipped for life.) they understood what they fought for; they were better used in the service. what wonder, then, that victory adorned the brows of the american commander? to have been defeated under such circumstances would have been a source of lasting infamy to any naval officer in the world. in the matter of fighting, i think there is but little difference in either nation. place them in action under equal circumstances and motives, and who could predict which would be victor? unite them together, they would subject the whole world. so close are the alliances of blood, however, between england and america, that it is to be earnestly desired, they may never meet in mortal strife again. if either will fight, which is to be deprecated as a crime and a folly, let it choose an enemy less connected by the sacred ties of consanguinity.

our voyage was one of considerable excitement. the seas swarmed with british cruisers, and it was extremely doubtful whether the united states would elude their grasp, and reach the protection of an american port with her prize. i hoped most sincerely to avoid them, as did most of my old shipmates; in this we agreed with our captors, who wisely desired to dispose of one conquest before they attempted another. our former officers, of course, were anxious for the sight of a british flag. but we saw none, and, after a prosperous voyage from the scene of conflict, we heard the welcome cry of “land ho!” the united states entered the port of new london; but, owing to a sudden shift of the wind, the macedonian had to lay off and on for several hours. had an english cruiser found us in this situation, we should have been easily recovered; and, as it was extremely probable we should fall in with one, i felt quite uneasy, until, after several hours, we made out to run into the pretty harbor of newport. we fired a salute as we came to an anchor, which was promptly returned by the people on shore.

with a few exceptions, our wounded men were in a fair way to recover by the time we reached newport. the last of them, who died of their wounds on board, was buried just before we got in. his name was thomas whittaker; he had been badly wounded by splinters. while he lived, he endured excessive torture. at last his sufferings rendered him crazy, in which sad state he died. he was sewed up in his hammock, by his messmates, and carried on a grating to the larboard bow port. there mr. archer, a midshipman of the macedonian, read the beautiful burial service of the church of england. when he came to that most touching passage, “we commit the body of our brother to the deep,” the grating was elevated, and, amid the most profound silence, the body fell heavily into the waters. as it dropped into the deep, a sigh escaped from many a friendly bosom, and an air of passing melancholy shrouded many a face with sadness. old recollections were busy there, calling up the losses of the battle; but it was only momentary. the men brushed away their tears, muttered “it’s no use to fret,” and things once more wore their wonted aspect.

at newport our wounded were carried on shore. our former officers also left us here. when my master, mr. walker, took his leave of me, he appeared deeply affected. imprinting a kiss on my cheek, the tears started from his eyes, and he bade me adieu. i have not seen him since.

while we lay here, a few days, several of our men contrived to run away. i should have done so too, but for the vigilance of the prize officers, who were ordered to keep us, that we might be exchanged for those americans who had fallen into british hands.

after staying a short time in this port, we got under weigh and ran into new london. here we fired a gun as a signal; it was answered by the united states, and both ships were presently sailing in company to new york. we found the sound plentifully dotted with sloops, carrying passengers, for this was before the days of modern steamboating. after we reached hurl-gate, vessels here gave us plenty of employment. most of them honored us with three cheers, as they passed. of course, the prize crew could do no less than cheer again, so that we passed our time amidst continued cheering. while here, we were favored with abundant visitors, curious to see the captive frigate. finding these visitors extremely inquisitive, and being tolerably good-natured myself, i found a profitable business in conducting them about the ship, describing the action, and pointing out the places where particular individuals fell. for these services, i gained some money and more good will. the people who had been to see us, used to tell on shore how they had been on board of us, and how the english boy had conducted them over the ship, and told them the particulars of the fight. it soon became quite common for those who came to inquire “if i was the english boy that was taken in her.” this civility on my part was not without a motive; it was productive of profit, and i wanted money to aid me whenever i got clear, which i was fully determined to do, the first opportunity.

to this step i was encouraged by our pilot, who brought us from new london, mr. tinker. he promised to take me as his apprentice, if i ran away. also a gentleman who visited us told me to call at his house in pearl street, and he would give me a dinner. many others advised me to get away if possible. but i was so closely watched that my mind was haunted with fear, lest, after all, i should be sent back to england in the cartel, which was expected every day for the release of the prisoners. to fail in the attempt, exposed me to the danger of being reported to the officer who might come for us, and thus i was liable to be flogged whenever i arrived in a british port. great caution was therefore necessary in making the effort; since it was better not to try at all, than to fail of success.

christmas was now drawing near. the day before christmas day, the americans contrived to get well supplied with wine from a barrel they found below. as they had no funds, i bought my messmates some apples and a turkey, so that on the morrow they were quite taken up with feasting. we also had a great many visitors that day; many of them were ladies, and the officers got a chair out, which captain carden had rigged up, to lift ladies on board. it was made from an old hogshead, in the following manner. one head was knocked out and the barrel scooped out in front; a seat was then inserted, with a flag thrown over the whole; so that when it was lowered into a boat alongside, the lady had but to step in and throw the flag round her feet; in a trice, the chair was whipt upon deck by the halyards, when the lady could step out with perfect ease. this contrivance afforded a great deal of amusement, and kept the officers busily occupied in waiting upon their lady visitors. now then, thought i, is my time for escape, or not at all. i had already made a friend of the american boatswain, mr. dawson, who promised to carry my clothes to new york, if i got clear. so, looking over the ship’s side, i saw a small colored boy in a boat. “can you tell me,” said i, hailing him, “where i can get some geese and turkeys on shore for our officers?”

“i guess you can at some of the houses,” responded the lad.

“well, then,” i continued, “will you set me ashore? i want to get some for our officers.”

to this he replied, “yes, if you will go and ask my master, who is on board your ship.”

this was a damper on my young hopes, since it was not likely that his master would give permission. i went below, somewhat disconcerted. there i met a boy named james day, two years younger than myself. i told him i was going to run away, and urged him to go with me. he declined at first, saying, “i have no money to pay my expenses.”

“but i have money,” returned i, “and as long as i have a shilling, you shall have half of it.”

“besides,” continued he, “i am afraid we cannot get away without being caught, and so get a thorough flogging.”

“never mind that,” said i; “i have contrived that business. the boat’s waiting to set us ashore. come along, jim; don’t be frightened; ‘nothing venture, nothing have,’ you know. come, come, here’s the boat alongside.” at length he consented; we returned to the ship’s side, and told the boy his master was willing, provided he would make haste. we jumped into the boat, and were soon hurrying towards the shore, full of the hope of freedom.

never did my heart misgive me as it did when we were on our way to the shore; the voice of the boy’s master came echoing along the waves. “where are you going with that boat?” he shouted. recovering myself, i persuaded the boy he was only bidding him to make haste. so the lad replied, “i am going to get some geese, sir!” and pulled on. a few minutes more, and, to my unspeakable delight, i stood on american soil. giving the boy a half dollar, we pushed on for new york, some ten miles distant.

for this act of running away, i have never blamed myself; for the means by which it was effected, i have frequently done so. as the reader has seen, it was done at the expense of truth. i told several deliberate lies to the deceived boy in the boat. this is inexcusable, and the only palliation that can be offered is, my want of religious instruction. i was not then a christian. still, the act of lying was an offence before god, and no man should purchase his liberty at the price of a lie. he who saves his life at the cost of offending god, pays dearly for the purchase. i am thankful i have since learned this lesson, at the foot of the cross of jesus christ.

not having our “land legs” on, we soon became excessively fatigued. when within two or three miles of the city, we concluded to stop all night at a tavern on the road.

the inmates looked somewhat surprised to see two sailor lads inquiring for lodgings; so i at once told them we were runaways from the captured frigate. this made them our friends! the evening passed quite pleasantly; we relating the particulars of the battle, and singing sea songs, and they listening with the utmost good humor.

it seemed strange to us to find ourselves in a bed, after sleeping two years and a half in a hammock; nevertheless, we slept soundly, and to our inexpressible pleasure arose in the morning at our leisure, without being driven by the swearing boatswain at our heels. after breakfast, our generous host having refused to receive any payment for his hospitality, we set out for the city of new york.

here i very fortunately alighted on one of the crew of the macedonian, named fitzgibbons, who informed me that most of our men had been landed at new london, and confined as prisoners in an old barn; but that, not being over closely guarded, most of them had run away. he also introduced me to a sailors’ boarding-house, kept by a widow named elms, near the old fly market in front street.

after spending a week in roving about the city, i heard a tremendous roaring of cannon in the harbor; it proceeded from the two frigates—which had dropped down from hurl-gate and hauled up off the navy yard. what was more to my satisfaction, however, was the news that the cartel had arrived and carried off the british crew, or, rather, the fragment that remained of them. had i delayed my escape three days longer, instead of spending the rest of my days in america and in the american service, i should have been chained to the obnoxious discipline of the british navy. the reader may be assured that the narrowness of my escape very greatly enhanced the value i set upon my freedom.

i now ventured on board the macedonian again to obtain my clothes. as i stepped on board, my mind misgave me, as lieutenant nicholson eyed me somewhat sternly; but i was reassured, when, kindly speaking, he informed me that the cartel was gone, and i was safe. the sailors, also, congratulated me on my success in getting clear.

the officers and crew were about to have a public dinner, and to visit the theatre in commemoration of their achievement. the sailors invited me to join them. to this i agreed. but overhauling my clothes, and contriving how i should appear as well as any shipmates, who were all going to have new suits for the occasion, the bright anchor buttons, which shone on my best suit, presented an insuperable objection. for how could i appear among them with the badge of the british service on my coat? this dilemma was removed, however, by the skill of my landlady, the widow, who very carefully covered the buttons with blue cloth.

there was great excitement in new york, when the brave tars of the victorious united states, walked in triumphant procession through the streets, in the presence of countless citizens. first, came captain carden’s band, which had now shipped with decatur; they were followed by the commodore and his officers, and these by the crew. at the city hotel, all hands partook of a sumptuous dinner. this was followed by rather more than a usual amount of drinking, laughing, and talking; for as liquor was furnished in great abundance, the men could not resist the temptation to get drunk. as they left the room to go to the theatre, the poor plates on the sideboard proclaimed that “jack was full three sheets in the wind.” almost every one, as he passed, gave them a crack, crying out as they fell, “save the pieces;” thus illustrating the old proverb, “when rum is in, wit is out.”

the visit to the theatre passed off very much like the dinner, to wit, there was an abundance of shouting and cheering all the evening. after the close of the play, all hands scattered to see their friends, with orders to be on board next day. it was a week before they all returned.

i was much struck with the appearance of decatur that evening, as he sat in full uniform, his pleasant face flushed with the excitement of the occasion. he formed a striking contrast to the appearance he made when he visited our ship on the passage to new york. then, he wore an old straw hat and a plain suit of clothes, which made him look more like a farmer than a naval commander.

never had men more friends than the crew of the united states at this period. every boarding-house was open to them; every merchant would trust them; every one was willing to lend them money. what was it that gained them such public favor? “o their victory, of course,” replies the reader. stop; i will reveal the secret. they had some prize money coming to them in a few weeks! that was the key that unlocked coffers; the warmth that melted the heart; the spirit that clothed the face with smiles. but for that—the prize money—poor jack’s credit and favor would, as usual, have been below par.

of course, this profusion, this universal popularity, almost turned the brains of some of those old tars; and at every opportunity they would steal ashore for a spree. this brought them into trouble; it brought some of them to the gangway to be flogged. these floggings, however, were not very severe; they were rather a species of farce, enacted to preserve alive the forms of discipline. to avoid even these forms, the men were accustomed, after staying on a spree for several days, to visit the commodore’s lady, with some piteous tale, begging her to intercede for them with their captain. this she did with almost constant success. the lucky tar would then go on board, telling his messmates that she was the sailor’s friend, and using the usual saying in such cases, “good luck to her—she has a soul to be saved.”

by this time, the late crew of the macedonian, or those of them who had not gone home with the cartel, were pretty well scattered over the country. one of the marines, named luke oil, went to springfield, mass., where he was employed as a file-cutter by colonel lee, of the u. s. armory, at the rate of $75 per month. this prosperity, and an unfortunate marriage, led him into unsteady habits. he enlisted into the u. s. army; but growing sick of that, colonel lee procured his discharge. he afterwards enlisted again, which is the last i ever heard of luke oil. two more of our marines, named shipley and taylor, also went to springfield, and were employed by a mr. ames.

several of the others enlisted to serve in the fort at new london. one of these, whose name was hawkins, was very highly esteemed for his excellence as a soldier, and was soon made sergeant. but being an inveterate drunkard, he lost his office, and was degraded to the ranks.

i have a characteristic anecdote to record of sadler, the messmate of bob hammond. he enlisted in the american army, and was quartered at hartford. he was so delighted with everything american, that he had grown to be an enthusiast in his encomiums on the government, as was exhibited one day in a somewhat peculiar way. the company to which he belonged was marched to church, one sabbath, to hear (i think it was) priest strong. the text was, “fear god and honor the king.” this was too much for the newly-made american; and he put the congregation into a broad grin, by exclaiming aloud, “don’t let us hear about the king, but about congress.” the good people of hartford would have pardoned this violation of puritan propriety, if they had seen that brave fellow flogged, as i had, in the king’s service.

our fifer, charles robinson, also enlisted in the same regiment. perhaps some of the inhabitants of hartford still remember the soldier who amused them, during his stay, by playing on the bugle in the morning, from the top of the court-house. robinson was perfect master of several instruments, especially the fife and the bugle.

one of our boys, named william madden, but better known in the macedonian by the nick-name of “billy o’rook,” from his practice of singing a song about that hero, enlisted in the army, and afterwards performed a signal service for his adopted country, at sacket’s harbor. the americans were in full retreat before the british troops, whose general, mounted on a superb charger, was at their head, shouting, “huzza, my boys, the day is ours!” when young madden rendered desperate by the certainty of being shot, if taken by his countrymen, deliberately aimed his rifle at the general. the shot struck him, he fell, and the british retreated. this brave lad lost his life in a subsequent action. i make this statement on the authority of captain badger, of williamstown, mass., confirmed by the testimony of several other persons.

the reader has probably not forgotten the name of “bloody dick.” he shipped on board the hornet, sloop of war, and with that vessel very narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the english. i met him afterwards in new york. he told me how he trembled during the chase, knowing that if captured he should be hung for entering the american service; the british having given express orders for a strict look-out after our crew, that they might make examples of them.

besides the men just mentioned, others of our crew shipped and wandered in every direction; some in men of war, some in merchant vessels; some, fearful of the risk of being retaken, settled ashore. in short, it is impossible to trace them, so variously did they diverge from each other. i have been particular in mentioning the history of a few, to gratify the parties, should they be living, and ever see my book; to confirm the reader in the truthfulness of my account, and to show some of the changes that followed in consequence of the victory of the united states over the macedonian. it would be an interesting task, were it possible, to trace out all the results of that victory. having detained the reader thus long in following the fate of my shipmates, i will resume the record of my own in the following chapter.