no battles that have been fought
on the land or sea; but just before I left New York, intelligence was
received that General Hull, the commander of the American forces on the
frontiers, had surrendered his whole army to the enemy at Detroit, with
all his guns, ammunition, and stores, WITHOUT FIRING A GUN!"

It is impossible to describe the scene which followed the announcement
of this unexpected intelligence, the exultation of the British, and the
mortification and wrath of the Americans. Hull was stigmatized by his
country-men as the basest of cowards. Curses, both loud and deep, were
heaped upon his hoary head. Had he been within the grasp of those who
listened to the story of his shame, a host of armed Englishmen could not
have saved him from the fury of the Yankees.

Occasionally an American privateer was seen in the offing; and the
boldness, enterprise, and success of this class of vessels in crippling
the commerce of Great Britain among the islands, created astonishment
and indignation among the loyal subjects of "his majesty." Rumors were
afloat every day sometimes false, but more frequently true of some deed
of daring, or destruction of British property, committed in that quarter
by American private-armed vessels.

One day, a small drogher arrived from the English island of Antigua,
bringing as passengers four or five seamen, the only survivors of a
terrible disaster which befell one of those privateers while cruising to
the windward of Antigua. One of the men was boatswain of the vessel. The
tale which he related was a sad one, and its correctness was confirmed
by the deep emotion which the narrator and his shipmates manifested and
by the tears they shed.

The captain of the privateer was a man of violent and ungovernable
temper and drunken habits. He had a quarrel every day with some of his
officers or some of his men; and one Sunday afternoon a wordy contest
took place between the captain and his first lieutenant, both being well
primed with alcohol. The language and conduct of the insulted officer
was such as to provoke the captain to madness. He raged and raved, and
at last struck his lieutenant, and gave peremptory orders to "put the
rascal in irons."

On hearing this order given, but before it could be executed, the
lieutenant seized a loaded pistol. Instead of shooting his brutal
commander on the spot, he rushed down the steps into the after part of
the vessel, and undoubtedly discharged his weapon