news indeed. Though superior in numbers, the Americans were
far inferior in weight of metal. After a hasty consultation, it was
determined to abandon the siege, and retreat with troops and vessels
to the shallow waters of the Penobscot, whither the heavy men-of-war
of the enemy would be unable to follow them. Accordingly the troops
were hastily re-embarked, and a hurried flight began, which was
greatly accelerated by the appearance of the enemy coming up the
river.

The chase did not continue long before it became evident the enemy
would overhaul the retreating ships. Soon he came within range, and
opened fire with his bow-guns, in the hopes of crippling one of the
American ships. The fire was returned; and for several hours the
wooded shores of the Penobscot echoed and re-echoed the thunders of
the cannonade, as the warring fleets swept up the river.

At last the conviction forced itself on the minds of the Americans,
that for them there was no escape. The British were steadily gaining
upon them, and there was no sign of the shoal water in which they had
hoped to find a refuge. It would seem that a bold dash might have
carried the day for the Americans, so greatly did they outnumber their
enemies. But this plan does not appear to have suggested itself to
Capt. Saltonstall, who had concentrated all his efforts upon the
attempt to escape. When escape proved to be hopeless, his only thought
was to destroy his vessels. Accordingly his flag-ship, the "Warren,"
was run ashore, and set on fire. The action of the commodore was
imitated by the rest of the officers, and soon the banks of the river
were lined with blazing vessels. The "Hunter," the "Hampden," and one
transport fell into the hands of the British. The rest of the
forty-nine vessels--men-of-war, privateers, and transports--that made
up the fleet were destroyed by flames.

It must indeed have been a stirring spectacle. The shores of the
Penobscot River were then a trackless wilderness; the placid bosom of
the river itself had seldom been traversed by a heavier craft than the
slender birch-bark canoe of the red man; yet here was this river
crowded with shipping, the dark forests along its banks lighted up by
the glare of twoscore angry fires. Through the thickets and underbrush
parties of excited men broke their way, seeking for a common point of
meeting, out of range of the cannon of the enemy. The British,
meantime, were striving to extinguish the flames, but wit