he safety of the flowery city of New Orleans than did
those blue-jackets ashore.

It is a fitting commentary upon the folly of war, that the battle of
New Orleans was fought after the two warring nations had signed a
treaty of peace. The lives of some hundreds of brave Englishmen and
Americans were needlessly sacrificed in a cause already decided. Far
across the Atlantic Ocean, in the quaint old Dutch city of Ghent,
representatives of England and the United States met, and, after some
debate, signed the treaty on the 24th of December, 1814. But there was
then no Atlantic cable, no "ocean greyhounds" to annihilate space and
time; and it was months before the news of the treaty reached the
scene of war. In the mean time, the hostilities were continued by land
and sea.

The year 1815 found the American navy largely increased by new
vessels, though the vigilance of the British blockaders kept most of
these close in port. The "Constitution" was at sea, having run the
blockade at Boston. In New York Harbor were the "President,"
"Peacock," "Hornet," and "Tom Bowline," awaiting a chance to slip out
for a cruise to the East Indies. It was decided that the vessels
should run out singly, and the "President" was selected to make the
first attempt. The night of the 14th of January was dark and foggy,
and the blockading fleet was nowhere to be seen. Then, if ever, was
the time for escape; and the Yankee tars weighed anchor and started
out through the Narrows. In the impenetrable darkness of the night,
baffled by head-winds and perplexing currents, the pilots lost their
reckoning, and the orders to the man at the wheel were quick and
nervous, until an ominous grating of the ship's keel, followed by the
loss of headway, told that the frigate was aground. For a time the
ship lay helpless, straining all her timbers as each wave lifted her
slightly, and then let the heavy hull fall back upon the shoal. By ten
o'clock the rising tide floated her off; but, on examination, Capt.
Decatur found that she was seriously injured. To return to port was
impossible with the wind then blowing: so all sail was crowded on, in
the hopes of getting safely away before the blockading squadron should
catch sight of the ship. As luck would have it, the blockaders had
been forced from their posts by the gale of the day before, and the
"President" had laid her course so as to infallibly fall into their
clutches. Before daylight the lookout reported two sail i