Then, by way of consolation, I expressed my opinion that it was a great hardship that a declaration of war carried with it the right to make prizes of an enemy's ships on the sea the moment the declaration was made. "It seems to me," said I, "that it would be only fair and right that there should be a limit of time to enable all who are afloat to reach a safe harbor. But we must take law and custom as we find them, not as we think they should be, and therefore the Camperdown is the prize of the Marguerite." The English captain acquiesced in my views; in fact, it was not easy for him to do otherwise, and then we proceeded to the arrangement for the transfer of the property from its former to its new holders. The prize I had taken was a valuable one. The ship was nearly new, and was named after the town in Holland where Admiral Duncan (afterwards Viscount of Camperdown) gained his great victory over the Dutch in 1797. She had an assorted cargo of goods intended for the colonies, and of the very kind that would be marketable in the United States; and in addition to the goods, she had about thirty thousand dollars worth of British gold and silver coin. I was very well satisfied with my prize, and it is unnecessary to state that my crew was elated at our success, though many of them were disappointed that we had gained our victory without a fight. "Never mind, my lads," said the mate, when he overheard some of the men murmuring; "you'll get your stomachs full of fighting before the war is over." The captain of the Camperdown said he had twelve passengers on board, including two British officers with their families and servants, and two civilian passengers. It had been arranged that the crew would be transferred to the Marguerite and detained in the hold as prisoners, their place being taken by a prize-crew from the schooner to work the Camperdown into New York. The officers of the ship would also be prisoners, according to the rules of war, but what should be done with the passengers? "They will be more comfortable on board the ship," I suggested, "than in our restricted quarters here. They can remain there on condition that the gentlemen give their parole of honor not to take part in or countenance any effort to retake the ship." "I'm sure they will readily agree to that," replied the captain; "they are gentlemen in every sense of the word, and nothing more need be said on that point." My second mate went with a prize-crew to take charge of the prize, and as rapidly as it could be done the crew of the Camperdown was transferred to the Marguerite and confined below. After the transfers had been completed, I went on board the ship to see the passengers and take the paroles, which they had sent word they would readily give on condition of being allowed to remain on the ship.