dy than he could attend to, and it would therefore be only a loss of time to carry him below. He now exhorted his associates to fight the ship to the last moment-while there was a plank of her afloat, or a gun that would fire, and after shaking hands and biding them an affectionate adicu, he crawled to the bow of the vessel, threw himself overboard, and was drowned.

When lieutenant John Cowel had his leg shot off, he was taken up to be carried below. But peremptorily refusing to go, he gave direction that he should be placed on the coamings of the hatch-way, where he continued to give his orders, with his usual composure, until he had lost so much blood, as to be almost insensible. When prevailed on at length to be removed to the cock-pit, he insisted on waiting for his turn before he would suffer his wound to be dressed. This extraordinary heroism and generosity were the cause of so great a loss of blood, as proved fatal to that distinguished officer.

John Francis, the captain's coxswain, commanded a gun a-mid-ships, very properly denominated the slaughter-house. Three times, covered with the blood and brains of his slaughtered companions, did he come to his commander to request that more men might be ordered to his gun, as the whole crew had been killed or wounded. On coming a fourth time with a similar request, Francis was observed to be himself wounded. All hopes of saving the ship were now abandoned. It was even expected she would immediately blow up. The captain, therefore, told Francis that he had done his duty manfully, and his wish now was that he should endeavour to make his escape. This brave seaman succeeded in reaching the shore, and repaired immediately to the Essex Junior, to assist in defending her.

George Wim, a native of Philadelphia, observed to lieutenant Cowel (when he saw the enemy determined on attacking the Essex) that to defend the ship with an expectation of saving her, would be folly; but that he would willingly sacrifice his life to convince the world that an American sailor would fight for his country and rights, to the last drop of his blood, under whatever circumstances he might be attacked.-George was found mortally wounded at his gun at the close of the action, and in two days afterwards died.

William Smith and Peter Ripple were the only survivors of the crew of the gun at which they were stationed. These two brave fellows were found working it at the close of the action, Smith perfectly blind from an explosion of powder, and otherwise dismally wounded--and Ripple also wounded severely. Smith died two days after the action, and it was with great difficulty that the life of Ripple was saved.

Many of the crew of the Essex, after having their first wounds dressed, returned on deck to their guns, where they were, in several instances, killed by second injuries. John Russel, Peter Allan, and Peter Vale, seamen, were of this number. Many of the crew after being mortally wounded, sternly refused to leave their guns. This was the reason why the number of killed was so nearly equal to that of the wounded.

Benjamin Hazen, a native of Groton in Massachusetts, being wounded in the action, remained on deck until the colours were struck. He joined others in the request that the flag might be haled down, to save the lives of his companions in the cock-pit. But as soon as the ship was given up, he bade an affectionate adieu to his shipmates, said he had determined never to survive the surrender of the Essex, jumped overboard, and was drowned.

When the wounded seamen below found that the ship was no longer defensible, they requested that she might be blown up, to prevent her from falling into the hands of the enemy. Orders to this effect were given by captain Porter, but countermanded again on finding the wounded in the cockpit to be so numerous that they could not be removed in time to prevent their falling a sacrifice to the flames.

The great distance at which the enemy kept, and the utter impossibility of closing with him, did not enable one man more than another to distinguish himself by personal courage. All showed themselves, however, cool, determined, and persevering. None left their quarters until they were completely disabled. They saw their mangled shipmates fall around them, and stepped in themselves with the greatest alacrity to fill their places.

All the officers, as the men they commanded fell at their guns, immediately gave assistance themselves in working them, until their places could be filled by fresh hands.

Lieutenants Wilmer, McKnight, Odenheimer, and others particularly distinguished themselves in this way. The conduct of captain Downes in pulling twice through the midst of the enemy's fire, deserves the highest eulogium-too much cannot be said in his praise.

Lieutenant Burrows, of the marines of the Phoebe, on coming on board the Essex and seeing the dreadful slaughter of her crew, (twenty-one dead men lying in one pile on the gun deck) and her deck covered with the blood and brains of those who had fallen, fainted with horror at the sight. Nor was captain Hillyar himself, on visiting the ship, much less affected by the scene of havoc a scene surpassing every thing he had previously witnessed.

There is, in a courageous devotion to duty and a heroic contempt of death, something that, in every portion of the globe, whether savage or civilized, irresistibly awakens the noblest sentiments of the soul, and engages in its behalf the finest affections of the human heart. This is, perhaps, more especially the case, in relation to the effects which the manifestation of these qualties so uniformly produces on the minds of females. Bravery, in every shape, and under the deepest and darkest shades of misfortune, never fails to receive its solace and reward in the admiration of the fair. This truth was manifested in its full extent in the case of our countrymen in Valparaiso. The ladies of that place were busily occupied in scraping lint and providing other necessaries for our wounded, the whole time the crew of the Essex remained there after the action, which was nearly a month. They visited the disabled seamen at the hospital, inquired into their wants, and cooked little messes for them at their houses, so deeply were they impressed with admiration of their courage.

The case of Lieutenant Cowell excited in Valparaiso the liveliest interest. The whole city most feelingly and deeply sympathized in his sufferings and lamented his fate.

When that brave young officer died, Captain Porter was absent on business at St. Iago, the capital of Chili. This, however, detracted nothing from the splendour of his funeral. His heroism had made every one his friend and his mourner. He was buried with the most distinguished honours, both military and civil, that the place could afford. All the American and British officers,

the crews of the Essex and Essex Junior, of the Phoebe and Cherub, and of every other vessel in port, joined to swell the funeral procession.

But the chief pomp that was displayed on this solemn and interesting occasion, arose from the attention of the inhabitants of the place. It would be scarcely hyperbolical to say, that the ashes of the gallant Cowell were watered by the tears of all Valparaiso. The concourse of Spaniards, headed by the governor of the district and a large military escort, was immense.

Followed by this vast and magnificent procession, and attended by solemn music and lighted tapers, the remains of the hero were carried to the principal church of the city. Here, after having been exposed to public view for two days, shrouded in elegant funeral apparel, they were interred in consecrated ground within the walls of the building, an honour never, perhaps, before conferred on a stranger in that part of the world.

Such are the homage and respect which bravery commands from strangers and enemies. May their country catch the generous contagion, and bestow on the memory of the fallen heroes of Valparaiso honours commensurate with the gallantry they exhibited and sacrifices they made! and may the youth of America, emulous of an example so transcendant, never forget, that when called into action in defence of their honour and their rights, devotion to duty should be the first consideration, and a love of life the Hast to occupy their minds! ED.

Written for the celebration of the 4th of July, 1814.

BY EDWIN C. HOLLAND, ESQ. OF CHARLESTON, S. c.

Swell the proud Pæan! the Day-star advances,
Whose glories the triumph of Freedom proclaim,
Long may the lustre around it that glances,
Lead us to Liberty, Commerce and Fame.
Bright from the billows foam,

Girt with a starry zone,

Thy genius Columbia, sublimely aspires,
Stern as her eagle eye,

Ranges through earth and sky,
Lightens its glare with more radiant fires.

Bold were the spirits thy rights that defended,
When rock'd with the whirlwind the waves of thy deep,
Fierce was the conflict-the battle was ended,

And silent and long was the warrior's sleep.

Fair bloom'd the forest wild,

Peace through the valley smil❜d,

No more howl'd the tempest-the war-song was hush'd, Sound then the trump of Fame,

Blest be each hero's name,

Fearless of death, in the contest that rush'd.

Dauntless in courage, they rose in the foray,
Refulgent as stars o'er the billowy main,
Washington marshall'd the chieftains to glory,
And shone o'er the host, like a pillar of flame.
Back from thy shores afar,

Roll'd the rude storm of war,

* See Port Folio of November 1813, for the Music to this song