My comrade and myself now had full command, and felt ourselves free. We took turns in watching the crew, and every thing went on well until the next morning, when our hopes of freedom were suddenly blighted, even when we were in plain sight of, and but three miles from, the port to which we were steering, by being retaken by the same sloop which had taken us the day before. They immediately put us in irons, which they kept on us for fifteen days thereafter. Thus we were doomed to the most cruel disappointment. We were now put on board the sloop, which sailed for Kingston, on the Island of Jamaica; but she had sailed but a few days before she gave chase to an American privateer. A running fight was kept up between these two war vessels until towards night, when the British sloop had her main-top-mast shot away. This took some little time to repair, after which we steered for our place of destination, where we arrived in about three days. While making the port we run aground and were not able to get off until about four o'clock next morning, and then by the aid of a British man-of-war, which was lying at Port Royal. The captain of the sloop kindly kept us on board his vessel for two weeks; after which we were sent on board of a prison ship, where we remained eight months. While here we fared very poorly, having only half a pound of meat, a pound of bread and a gill of peas per day. There were nine hundred American prisoners confined in this vessel, shut out from home and all its many endearments. Many of them were sick with yellow fever, and met here their final exit far from friends and home. After the expiration of the above time, six of us got away, by swimming about a fourth of a mile to a vessel which lay at anchor in the harbor, the jolly boat of which we made bold to take into our possession, and steered out of the port through a great number of men-of-war in safety.