New Jersey claims the honor of being the birthplace of Captain James Lawrence, at one time the idol of the naval service. Captain Lawrence was born at Burlington, being the youngest son of John Lawrence, Esq. Although at the age of twelve he manifested a desire to become a sailor, his wish was not gratified until five years later, when, abandoning the study of law, he took up that of navigation, and received a warrant as midshipman on the 4th of September, 1798.

He made one voyage on the ship Ganges, under Captain Tingey, and after two years of cruising in various vessels he was made an acting lieutenant on board the frigate Adams, where he continued until the reduction of the naval force began, and then, his appointment not being confirmed, he once more found himself a midshipman.

Lawrence, like many a good officer, appeared to be continually at loggerheads with the department at Washington. He objected to this first reduction, and in 1801 his objection was sustained, and he sailed to the Mediterranean as first lieutenant of the schooner Enterprise in 1803. All through the war with Tripoli he conducted himself with such bravery as to bring commendation from all his superiors. As an example of his spirit and fearlessness an incident is well worth quoting. After he had returned with Commodore Preble he was not allowed to rest long in idleness; again he was sent to the Mediterranean, for what reason it would be hard to state; he was hastened away in command of one of the foolishly constructed gunboats that did not even rejoice in the dignity of possessing a name, being merely known on the register as “No. 6.” None of these vessels was qualified to take to the sea. They were built on the model of great rowboats, and wallowed and tossed and pitched, and behaved in every way that a vessel ought not to when under sail. The one big gun they carried amidships on deck rendered them top-heavy, and, as some one wrote at the time, “the leeway they gathered discounted the log.” But Lawrence grimly accepted the duty assigned to him, and set out at once. A few months afterwards one of his brother officers wrote in a letter to a relation in the army, saying, “Lawrence has told me that when he went on board the gunboat he had not the faintest idea that he would ever arrive out to the Mediterranean in her, or indeed arrive anywhere else. He also told me that on the coast of Europe he met an English frigate, the captain of which would not at first believe that he had crossed the Atlantic in such a vessel.”

But he crossed safely, however, and cruised about in his cockle-shell for some sixteen months. Immediately after his return Lawrence was made first lieutenant of the frigate Constitution; then transferred to the schooner Vixen, of which he was given the command; whence he went to the brig Argus, and at last to the sloop Hornet. Twice he was sent to Europe in the latter with despatches to our ministers. Upon the outbreak of the war Lawrence was yet in command of the Hornet, which was one of the squadron of five sail that set out under Commodore Rodgers in the unsuccessful attempt to intercept the Jamaica fleet.

Much upset in his mind by the promotion of a junior officer over his head, only Lawrence’s patriotism and loyalty prevented him from resigning from the service. The Senate restored him to his proper number on the list, however, and he sailed with Commodore Bainbridge in the cruise to the south, from which he returned soon after the capture of the Peacock.

In all history it is customary to count the incidents of unsuccessful but heroic resistance to the honor and glory of the nation. The historians of Great Britain in all their works rightly take this stand in detailing the actions between their vessels and those of the little navy of the United States. There is on record in our annals the story of an unsuccessful engagement that cannot but reflect credit on our naval officers and our flag.

Jack Tars are more superstitious than any other class of men. They fear Friday, and are on the constant lookout for omens and portents. Give a ship an unlucky name and it counts against her in securing a good crew. The Chesapeake was an unlucky vessel. On the 22d of June, 1807, manned by a green crew under the command of Commodore Barron, she had left Hampton Roads. This was during the time that England was employing her assumed “Right of Search,” that led to the struggle five years later.

Taken at a disadvantage, she was humiliated by being compelled to lower her flag to H. M. S. Leopard, after the latter had poured in several destructive broadsides without return. The Chesapeake had three men killed and eighteen wounded, and her commander was forced to submit to the kidnapping of four alleged deserters from his crew. The vessel had proved herself a slow sailer, and had accomplished nothing in her cruises. In March, 1813, she was lying in Boston Harbor, her complement of men not filled and her armament incomplete.

Captain Lawrence, fearing that he might be appointed to her, applied for the command of the Constitution.

High-spirited and sensitive, he had taken offence at the manner in which his request was received. The Secretary of the Navy entailed the condition that if neither Captain Porter nor Captain Evans applied for the command of “Old Ironsides,” Lawrence could have her. Objecting to this treatment, he was given the appointment unconditionally; but the next day, to his chagrin, he received a recall of the order, and, after some vexations, counter-instructions to take command of the Chesapeake, then lying in Boston Roads. Lawrence was prejudiced against this ship, and disgruntled at his peculiar treatment; but to his respectful remonstrances the Secretary of the Navy vouchsafed no reply, and the gallant officer pocketed his pride and went on board his unfortunate command.