The phrase “Free Trade and Sailors’ Rights,” borne on the banner at the masthead of the Essex, soon became the war-cry of the American seaman.

The 25th of October, 1812, one week after the victory and loss of the gallant Wasp, dawned bright and clear on the English frigate Macedonian sailing westward of Canary Islands.  Little change had come to the Macedonian since Fernando Stevens had been transferred from her to the sloop.  At this time there were but three impressed Americans on the Macedonian, Sukey, a negro sailor called Tawney and a man named Rogers.

Notwithstanding their difference in race and social standing, Sukey and Tawney were attached to each other.  Both were Americans, and both loved the star-spangled banner.

It was a holy Sabbath morning, and every sailor, according to Captain Garden’s orders, was dressed in his best, when the cry of, “Sail ho!” rang out from the masthead.  It was ascertained that the stranger was an American, and the ship was cleared for action.  As the Macedonian bore down on the American—­her men at their quarters—­Sukey and Tawney, who happened to be stationed at the quarter-deck battery, respectfully accosted the captain, as he passed them in his rapid promenade, his spyglass under his arm.

“Say, look here,” said Sukey, “we are not Englishmen; we don’t want to be in the game.  It’s a bitter thing to lift a hand against the flag of that country which harbors our parents.  Please release us from this contest and let us remain neutral during the fight; I tell you, I don’t want to be in the game.”

When a ship of any nation is running into action, there is no time for argument, small time for justice, and not much for humanity.  Snatching a pistol from the belt of a boarder standing by, the captain leveled it at the heads of the sailors, and commanded them instantly to their quarters, under penalty of being shot on the spot.  So, side by side with their country’s foes, Sukey, Tawney and Rogers toiled at the guns, and fought out the fight to the last; with the exception of Rogers who was killed by one of his country’s balls.

The conflict was terrible.  Sukey was stationed on the gun deck, abreast the mainmast.  This part of the ship they called the slaughter-house, for men fell five and six at a time.  An enemy nearly always directs his shot at this point in order to cut away the mast.  The beams and carlines were spattered with blood and brains.  About the hatchways it looked like a butcher’s stall; bits of human flesh were sticking in the ring-bolts.  A pig that ran about the deck, though unharmed, was so covered with blood, that the sailors threw it overboard, swearing it would be rank cannibalism to eat it.  A goat, kept on board for her milk, had her legs shot away, and was thrown into the sea.