While in the Pickering he attacked a heavily armed royal mail
packet bound to England from the West Indies, one of the largest
merchant vessels of her day and equipped to defend herself
against privateers. A tough antagonist and a hard nut to crack!
They battered each other like two pugilists for four hours and
even then the decision was still in the balance. Then Haraden
sheered off to mend his damaged gear and splintered hull before
closing in again.

He then discovered that all his powder had been shot away
excepting one last charge. Instead of calling it a drawn battle,
he rammed home this last shot in the locker, and ran down to
windward of the packet, so close that he could shout across to
the other quarter-deck: "I will give you five minutes to haul
down your colors. If they are not down at the end of that time, I
will fire into you and sink you, so help me God."

It was the bluff magnificent--courage cold-blooded and
calculating. The adversary was still unbeaten. Haraden stood with
watch in hand and sonorously counted off the minutes. It was the
stronger will and not the heavier metal that won the day. To be
shattered by fresh broadsides at pistol-range was too much for
the nerves of the gallant English skipper whose decks were
already like a slaughterhouse. One by one, Haraden shouted the
minutes and his gunners blew their matches. At "four" the red
ensign came fluttering down and the mail packet was a prize of
war.

Another merchant seaman of this muster-roll of patriots was Silas
Talbot, who took to salt water as a cabin boy at the age of