ted the condition of the prize. He was immediately
ordered to return to the "Peacock," and make every effort to save her.
Accompanied by three boats' crews of American sailors, he again
boarded the sinking ship, and bent every energy to the attempt for her
salvation. Bulwarks were cut away, and the heavy guns were rolled out
of the gaps thus made, and cast into the sea. Deep down in the hold,
and swinging like spiders over the sides of the vessels, sailors tried
to stop up with felt-covered blocks of wood the great holes through
which the water was pouring. All the time boats were plying between
the sinking vessel and the "Hornet," transferring the wounded and the
prisoners. Twilight fell before the work was ended, and it became
evident to all that the "Peacock" must sink during the night. But the
end came even quicker than had been expected. Some new rent must have
opened in the brig's side; for, with a sudden lurch, she commenced to
sink rapidly, bow foremost. Several of the English crew were below,
searching for liquor; and, caught by the inpouring flood, they found a
watery grave in the sinking hulk. Three Americans were also ingulfed;
and five narrowly escaped death by climbing up the rigging to the
foretop, which remained above water when the hull rested upon the
bottom. In the midst of the excitement and confusion, four British
seamen slyly clambered out of the cabin-windows, and, dropping into a
boat that was made fast to the stern, made off in the darkness. The
Americans, eagerly watching the sinking ship, did not detect the
fugitives until the boat was far beyond the possibility of recapture.

The vessel so quickly destroyed by the "Hornet" was the British
man-of-war brig "Peacock," mounting ten guns, and carrying a crew of
two hundred and ten men. In one respect, she was a model ship. Among
naval men, she had long been known as "the yacht," on account of the
appearance of exquisite neatness she always presented. Her decks were
as white as lime-juice and constant holystoning could keep them. The
brasswork about the cabins and the breeches of the guns was dazzling
in its brilliancy. White canvas lined the breechings of the
carronades. Her decks everywhere showed signs of constant toil in the
cause of cleanliness. The result of the battle, however, seemed to
indicate that Capt. Peakes had erred, in that, while his ship was
perfect, his men were bad marksmen, and poorly disciplined. While
their shot were harmless