run away from an English merchant ship, in which he was an apprentice, and an old Frenchman, who had served many years in the carpenter's gang in a French man-ofwar, and who understood hardly a word of the English language.

We sailed from St. Pierre the day after we had taken possession of the schooner, bound directly for St. Bartholomew.

It is well known that one of the principal reasons for the declaration of war against Great Britain in 1812, were the insults heaped on the American flag, in every sea, by the navy of Great Britain. The British government claimed and exercised the right to board our ships, impress their crews when not natives of the United States, examine their cargoes, and subject our citizens navigating the high seas, to inconvenience, detention, and conduct often of an annoying and insulting character. The British government contended that the flag which waved over the decks of our ships should be no protection to our ships or seamen. For years our merchant vessels were compelled to submit to such degrading insults from the navy of Great Britain.

The mode of exercising this "right of search," so far as relates to the impressment of seamen, I have already had occasion to illustrate, and the incident which I now relate will explain with tolerable clearness the mode in which the British exercised this right in relation to property.

Previously to the war with Great Britain, a profitable trade was carried on between the United States and the English West India Islands. The exports from the

islands were limited chiefly to molasses and rum; sugar and coffee being prohibited in American bottoms. According to the British interpretation of the "right to search," every American vessel which had taken in a cargo in a British, or any other port, was liable to be searched, from the truck to the keelson, by any British cruiser when met with on the high seas. And this inquisitorial process was submitted to as a matter of course, though not without murmurs loud and deep, from those who were immediately exposed to the inconveniences attending this arbitrary exercise of power.

On the afternoon succeeding the day on which the schooner John left Martinico, as we were quietly sailing along with a light breeze, under the lee of the mountainous Island of Gaudaloupe, we saw a large ship at anchor on a bank about a mile from the land, with the British ensign at her peak, and a pennant streaming from her mast-head, sufficient indications that we had fallen in with one of John Bull's cruisers. But Captain Turner, conscious that his schooner was an American vessel, and had been regularly cleared at St. Pierre, with a cargo of rum and molasses, and there being no suspicious circumstances connected with her appearance, her cargo, or her papers, apprehended no detention or trouble from the British manof-war.

A boat was soon seen to put off from the frigate, and it was not long before it was alongside the John. An officer stepped on deck, and politely asked the privilege of examining the ship's papers. This was accorded. After having ascertained we were from a British port, the officer coolly remarked it would be necessary to take the schooner nearer the land and bring her to anchor, in order to institute a thorough search into the true character of the cargo. He added that the frigate was stationed there for the express purpose of intercepting and overhauling such Yankee vessels as might pass along.

A signal was made to the frigate, and two additional boats were despatched, which took our small vessel in tow, and in less than an hour we found ourselves at anchor, in thirty fathoms of water, within half musket shot of an English man-of-war. The launch was soon alongside, the hatchways were taken off, tackles were rove, and a gang of the frigate's crew went to work breaking out the cargo and hoisting it into the launch. After the launch and other boats were laden, they hoisted the casks on deck, and continued the operations in no gentle manner until they reached the ground tier. They thus examined every cask, but found nothing but molasses and

rum.

They then commenced "stowing the cargo," as they called it; and the hogsheads of molasses were tossed into the hold, and handled as roughly as hogsheads of tobacco. It was about sunset on the following day when the last cask was stowed. The anchor was then weighed, the sails set, and the lieutenant, having put into the hands of the captain a certificate from the commander of the frigate that the schooner had been searched, for the purpose of preventing a repetition of that agreeable ceremony, told him he was at liberty to go where he thought proper, and politely wished him a pleasant voyage.

Our vessel was thus detained twenty-four hours; and in consequence of this detention, the passage to St. Bartholomew was lengthened several days, as a calm commenced soon after we were liberated, which lasted that time. The cargo also received injury from the rough handling of the British tars, insomuch that before we reached St. Bartholomew several casks had lost nearly all their contents; and if we had been bound directly to the United States, it is probable that a considerable portion of the cargo would have been pumped out with the bilge water.

This is only one of a thousand cases which might be

cited to show the principle on which the British acted towards neutral powers on the broad ocean, as well as in the British waters, at that time. The British government, since the war of 1812, have attempted by negotiations to reestablish this principle. But the attempt has been firmly and successfully resisted; and it may be safely predicted that this "right" will never again be claimed by Great Britain, or conceded by the United States.

Our government, which is a government of the people, and supported mainly by commerce, cannot be too vigilant and firm in its endeavors to protect the persons and property of our citizens on the ocean against the oppression or outrages of any naval power. Let us, as an honorable, high-minded nation, cordially coöperate with any other nation in attempts to check and destroy the traffic in slaves, so revolting in its character, which is carried on between Africa and places on this continent. Let us be a party to any honorable treaty having this for its object; but let us never listen to the idea that the American flag, waving at the peak or masthead of an American vessel, is no protection to the property on board, or the liberties of the passengers and crew.

Captain Turner promptly availed himself of the permission so graciously given by the commander of the British cruiser, and we proceeded on our way to St. Bartholomew. There is probably no sailing in the world more pleasant and interesting than among the group of beautiful islands reaching from Trinidad to St. Bartholomew. With a smooth sea and a gentle, refreshing trade wind, as the vessel glides past these emerald gems of the ocean, a picturesque and ever-varying landscape is produced, as if by the wand of some powerful enchanter. Grenada, the Grenadines, St. Vincent, St. Lucia, Martinico, Dominica, Guadaloupe, Montserrat, Saba, St. Kitts, Nevis, and St. Bartholomew, all seem to pass in swift succession before the eye of the observer.

These islands are all, with the exception of St. Bartholomew, more or less cultivated, but being mountainous and of volcanic origin, the productive lands lie on the base of the mountains, or on the spacious intervals and valleys near the sea shore. Studded with plantations, each of which resembles a little village planned by some skilful landscape gardener; with crystal streams dashing down the mountain sides; with dense forests covering the high lands and mountain summits; with bays and indentations along the coast, each with a thriving village at the extremity, defended by fortifications; with ships at anchor in the roadsteads, and droghers coasting along the shores; with an atmosphere richly laden with sweets, and all the interesting associations connected with a tropical climate; these islands furnish an array of attractions which are hardly surpassed in the Western Hemisphere. The beautiful description in the song of Mignon, in the "Wilhelm Meister" of Goethe, of a land of fruits and flowers, will apply with singular felicity to these Windward Islands:

"Know'st thou the land where the pale citron grows,

And the gold orange through dark foliage glows?
A soft wind flutters from the deep blue sky,
The myrtle blooms, and towers the laurel high.
Know'st thou it well?"

I have sometimes wondered why the capitalists of New England, in search of recreation and pleasure for themselves and families, instead of crossing the Atlantic to visit the oft-described and stale wonders of the Old World, do not charter a yacht or a packet schooner, and with a goodly company take a trip to the West Indies, sail around and among these islands, visit places of interest, accept the hospitality of the planters, which is always freely bestowed, and thus secure a fund of rational enjoyment, gratify a laudable curiosity in relation to the manners and habits of the people of the torrid zone, and bring