After the oration was delivered, the officers that were on the walls entered the prison yard, and expressed the greatest surprise that we should entertain a hope that the United States would be successful in a war with Great Britain, when she was at peace with all other nations. But for _consolation_ to us in our present condition, we might rest fully assured that we should be released in a very short time by a peace, which would be brought about by their conquering the United States, and reducing them to colonies again; and such a change, which must shortly take place, they said must be imputed entirely to the bad management of our President and Congress: we have now conquered France, and America must be conquered next. We found them ignorant of the strength and resources of the American people; we gave them a particular account of the situation of America, her means of defence, and the spirit and determination of the people; the great superiority of gunnery which the American seamen possessed over those of Great Britain; the truth of which was shown in the actions of the Guerriere, Frolic, Java, &c., &c. They left the yard much chagrined at these facts, which they could not deny; and remarking that they were surprised to find sailors so well acquainted with the politics of both countries, but that they believed they must be most of them Englishmen born, and that it was a very great pity His Majesty should be deprived of so many valuable seamen. At two o’clock we sat down to our fourth of July dinner, which was composed of soup and beef, the best we could prepare. We gathered in parties, with the greatest animation, conversing of our President and Congress, for whom we sailors have the greatest respect; and Mr. Madison, particularly, is a great favorite of sailors. After dinner we had a song, which was composed for the occasion. The day was passed in the greatest harmony; no quarrel or strife occurred to mar its pleasure. The next day every man resumed his occupation, and seemed to enjoy a negative happiness, which arose from a freedom from absolute pain. On the eighth of this month, a friend of mine, for whom I had much respect, died; and at his burial I took occasion to survey the vast tenements of the dead, and consider, within myself, what innumerable multitudes of people lay confused together on this moor; how friends and enemies, officers and soldiers, the brave and the coward, collected from all quarters of the globe, of all nations, and of all colors, lay undistinguished in one common mass of matter; and not a stone to name one tenant of the tomb. After having surveyed this great magazine of mortality as it were, in the lump, out of respect to my friend, I searched about and obtained a very slaty stone, on which I inscribed the following words: Here lies the body of JAMES HART, A native of the United States of America, _Who departed this life July 8th, 1814_. Under which was the following epitaph: