Boats were then lowered, the little brig taken from us, and our crew transferred to the _Medway_, stowed away in the cable tier, and put in messes of twelve, with an allowance of only eight men’s rations to a mess; a regulation which caused us considerable suffering from hunger. The sight of the marines on board the _Medway_ made me tremble, for my fancy pointed out several of them as having formerly belonged to the _Macedonian_. I really feared I was destined to speedily swing at the yard-arm; it was, however, a groundless alarm. This event happened July 12, 1814. Only eight days before, we had celebrated the independence of our country, by dancing and splicing the main-brace. Now we had a fair prospect of a rigorous imprisonment. Such are the changes which constantly occur under the rule of the war-spirit. The day subsequent to our capture, we were marched to the quarter deck with our clothes-bags, where we underwent a strict search. We were ordered to remove our outside garments for this purpose. They expected to find us in possession of large quantities of gold dust. What little our crew had purchased was taken from them, with a spirit of rapacity altogether beneath the dignity of a naval commander. Our short allowance was a source of much discomfort in this our prison-ship. But, in the true spirit of sailors, we made even this a subject of coarse jests and pleasant remark. Some would sit and paint the luxuries of shore life until our mouths watered at the idea of soft tack, fried eggs, sausages, and those other delicacies which go to make up a sailor’s idea of a sensual paradise. Others would discourse about roast beef, boiled lamb, and caper sauce; to which some old weather-beaten tar would answer, “Give me the lamb and a knife and fork, and I will cut capers enough.” This would draw out peals of laughter, to be followed by various yarns of feasts gone by, and of sprees enjoyed on liberty and paydays. Thus we beguiled our time; though, with all our laughing, we could not laugh away the clamors of our hungry stomachs; and when I took my turn of a few minutes on deck, the gift of a piece of hard, dry biscuit, afforded me more gustatory delight, than would the taste of the richest pound-cake, now that I have an abundance of food. Enduring this evil, we proceeded on our course. When the _Medway_ arrived at Simon’s Town, about twenty-one miles from the Cape of Good Hope, we met the _Denmark_, seventy-four, on her way to England, with prisoners from Cape Town. The captain had hitherto intended to land us at the latter place, but the presence of the _Denmark_ led him to change his purpose, and land us at Simon’s Town.