At last the English government sent men-of-war to cruise off the principal ports of the United States to intercept American merchant-vessels and send them to England as lawful prizes. In this business, the _Little Belt_, a British sloop-of-war, was engaged off the coast of Virginia in the spring of 1811, where, on the 16th of April, she met the American frigate _President_, under Captain Ludlow, bearing the broad pennant of Commodore Rodgers. Commodore Rodgers, being aboard the _President_, hailed the sloop and asked: "What sloop is that?" A cannon-shot was his reply. "Captain Ludlow," said the commodore, "we will teach that fellow good manners. Are your guns in order?" "They are." "We have been taught a lesson by Barron's mishap. Train the guns and be ready to fire." With a speaking trumpet, the commodore once more hailed the sloop with: "What sloop is that?" This time he was greeted with a broadside. "Fire!" cried the commodore, and the cannon of the _President_ sent a broadside of heavy shot against the impudent stranger. The conflict lasted only about ten minutes, when Captain Bingham, after losing eleven killed and twenty-one wounded, gave a satisfactory answer. The vessels parted company, the _Little Belt_ sailing for Halifax for repairs. It was in the year 1809 that the American brig _Dover_, one of the few of American merchant vessels which had managed to escape the ruin of Jefferson's embargo act, was sailing among the lesser Antilles. The master-captain Parson was a thorough seaman with a heart as big as an ox. British cruisers were a greater bugbear to American vessels than pirates, and Captain Parson kept a constant lookout for them. On the afternoon of an Autumnal day, when he found himself becalmed off a small island not down on the chart, the skipper felt no little uneasiness. He paced his deck impatiently, occasionally turning his eye to every quarter, surveying the horizon for some sign of a gale of wind. "Mr. Brown, Mr. Brown," he called to his mate. "Aye, aye, sir," answered Mr. Brown, hurrying forward. "Mr. Brown, look across that point of land sou-west the island--get your glass." "Aye, aye, sir!" The mate ran and got his glass. He came back to the captain and leveled it in the direction indicated by the captain. "Do you see anything?" "I do, sir." "What is it?" "I see the top gallant of a ship." "I thought I was not mistaken. Can you make out her colors?" "I will go aloft, captain, and see." The mate ascended to the foretop cross-tree, and took a long survey of the stranger. When he descended the captain asked: "What is she?" "An English frigate." "I knew it!" growled the captain. "I felt it in my bones. We shall have the rascals overhauling us anon. Egad, I wish we had an armed crew and heavy guns--I would not wait for congress to declare war." "But captain, while this dead calm lasts, she cannot move more than ourselves."