Chapter IV: The West India Merchants

The period on which the Post-Office now entered was, as far as its Foreign Mail Service was concerned, one of struggle and disaster. A long series of calamities was at hand, sufficient to shake the faith of those who trusted most firmly in the new system, and furnishing to those who from the first disliked and feared it, a well-nigh inexhaustible supply of arguments.

Before entering on this category of misfortunes it is necessary to remark again that throughout the war terminated by the peace of Amiens in 1802, the officers of the Falmouth station held a low standard of duty. There were doubtless many individuals among them who, in the midst of the prevailing laxity, maintained a more honourable course, and discharged their duties with perfect fidelity and vigour; but the fact that there was much ground for criticism in the conduct of the general body is proved by the frequent recurrence of minutes such as the following, inscribed in August, 1793, by command of the Postmaster General:—“The Postmaster General cannot but lament when they look at the absentee list of their captains in time of war, to see how many reasons they are constantly urging to stay at home, and of how little use they must consider their own presence at sea. There are now twelve Packets at sea, and no less than ten of the captains of them ashore.” The excuses urged were plausible enough; and it was only by considering them in the aggregate that the Postmaster General could make plain their shifty character. Remonstrances were frequent, but unavailing, and the Postmaster General proceeded to use such modes of compulsion as occurred to them.

Their first proceeding was to stop absolutely the comfortable old system whereby all the superior officers of a Packet stayed at home at ease, while the mails entrusted to them made their distant journey to Barbados or Jamaica under the charge of a common seaman, who felt his way across the Atlantic by rule of thumb. None of the officers lost a penny by this arrangement. The captain, or the owners whom he represented, whose profits were made largely out of the passengers and in a less degree out of the sum paid for the hire of the Packet, with a small annual salary, received every item of these amounts without deduction whether he made the voyage or not; and in these circumstances the natural inclination of mankind to turn their employments into sinecures was constantly asserting itself at Falmouth. In fact, the idea that so long as the commander, whether on board or not, was nominally responsible for the safety of his ship, no further questions ought to be asked, seems to have been elevated to the rank of an accepted principle of conduct at Falmouth, recognized by agent and commanders alike.

There was therefore a good deal of indignation when, in 1793, the agent, Mr. Pender, began to upset established practice, and went so far as to lay down the rule that, in the absence of the commander, no officer of lower rank than the master was to assume charge of a Packet. Mr. Pender explained that he was acting under instructions from headquarters; but the commanders could not believe that headquarters would be so unreasonable; and it needed a sharp, peremptory minute from the Postmaster General to convince them of the fact.

Of course this new arrangement was more costly to the commanders than the old one, for the master would not act as the captain’s deputy without receiving considerably more money than would have contented a common sailor. At the same time the Postmaster General reached the pockets of the absentee captains in another way, for they laid down that any commander who, by shirking voyages in time of war, abrogated his functions as a fighting officer, should receive only the salary paid in times of peace, which was two pounds a month lower than the pay of the war establishment.

These penalties bore too small a proportion to the whole income of the Falmouth commanders to influence their conduct greatly, and matters, therefore, went on very much as before. “The Postmaster General,” says a minute of the latter part of 1793, “cannot help thinking there must be some mistake about Captain D.’s application for leave, for, if they are right, he has been ashore on private business since September 11th, 1792, and yet has asked leave to be ashore this voyage. If that is so, they decidedly refuse him the leave he now asks for.” Captain D. probably thought it wiser to accept this decision without protest, but, whether by passive resistance or active subtlety, he certainly escaped going to sea; and five years later another Postmaster General commented on his proceedings in the following terms: “... We cannot forget that Captain D. has been absent from his duty during many years, assigning no other cause than the death of his mother _in 1792_. We shall be sorry for new occasions to revert to this consideration. Such occasions may lead to a decision that Captain Deake has not that due zeal for the service which we are obliged to expect from those who remain in it.” This incisive minute was penned by Lord Auckland, and its subtly-worded reference to some “two-handed engine” which might yet operate on Captain D. had the useful effect of frightening him back to his ship.

Such being the temper prevalent at Falmouth, good results were not to be expected. It will be necessary to return to this subject in a later chapter. It is now time to resume the catalogue of the various disasters which befell the sea service of the Post-Office in the latter years of the last century.

When the authorities at Lombard Street reviewed the events of the year 1794, they may have been, on the whole, fairly well satisfied with what had occurred. It was true that since the loss of Captain Yescombe in the “King George,” two other Packets had been captured, and one of these misfortunes was especially regretted since it was no other than the “Antelope,” the vessel fought so bravely in the previous year, which had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The “Antelope” ended her career without dishonour indeed, but yet ingloriously. She was on a voyage to Halifax, under the personal command of her captain, William Kempthorne, and on the 19th September became involved in a dense fog which lasted many hours; when the fog cleared off Captain Kempthorne found himself completely surrounded by a squadron of French frigates, against which it would have been folly to resist. Accordingly he sank his mails, struck his colours, and he with his brave crew became prisoners of war.

The Falmouth Service could ill have spared an officer of Captain Kempthorne’s qualities, even for the limited period which might be expected to elapse before he could be exchanged. But a worse misfortune was at hand, for Captain Kempthorne had been no more than a few days in the hands of the French when he fell ill of a putrid fever, and died after a very short illness. No officer could have been more regretted, for Captain Kempthorne, who had served in the navy as midshipman and lieutenant, had in the last war fought one of the most notable actions of which the Post-Office could boast, having sustained for some hours and at last repulsed the joint attack of three American Privateers, of which the smallest was of greater force than his own ship.

The same French squadron captured the “Thynne” Packet four days after the “Antelope,” but the last four months of 1794 went by without further mishap, and when the New Year arrived the retrospect must have been fairly encouraging. Though four Packets had been captured no one of them had fallen to a Privateer. Three had indeed been captured by squadrons against which any armament conceivable would have proved useless, and, on the whole, it might fairly be argued therefore that the new system held its ground.

The time was at hand, however, in which this immunity from the ravages of Privateers was to be broken. In the year 1795 the French turned their chief attention to the task of destroying commerce, and their change of policy makes itself felt at once in the records of the Post-Office, for though the Packets captured in 1795 were again only four in number, every one of them was taken by a Privateer, and in each case without a fight.

This was certainly not very satisfactory, for if the qualities of the new Packets, their sailing powers and their capacity for fighting in the last resort, could not protect them against Privateers the model must stand condemned. Questions doubtless arose in Lombard Street about the bloodless nature of every one of these conquests, but no trace of such discussions appears in the records. My Lords the Postmaster General had certainly impressed on their commanders that their safety was in flight, but they had not intended to convey that all the qualities of timid animals were to be copied, and that the commanders were to give themselves up for lost when overtaken.

In the following year (1796) the record is more pleasant to read. Three Packets were captured, apparently without effective resistance, by French Privateers, and one was seized by the Spaniards in Corunna harbour upon the declaration of war with England; but there were three gallant fights, which were the more welcome by reason of the fact that during two years the commanders seemed to have forgotten that guns were made to be fired.

Of the first of these encounters it happens unfortunately that no details are preserved. It was fought by the “King George,” the Packet nominally commanded by that Captain Yescombe whose romantic escape from prison was mentioned in the last chapter, and a letter from him is still in existence in which he speaks in the highest terms of the gallantry displayed by Mr. Bett, the master, who was in command of the Packet, as well as of the firmness with which he was supported by Mr. Jinkin, the mate, and by all the ship’s crew. That these were not empty words is proved by the return of casualties, which shows that though none of the Packet’s men were killed, six were wounded, some dangerously. The action was completely successful, and, even in the imperfect state of our information regarding it, may be set down as deserving credit.

The other two actions were fought by the same Packet, and within three weeks of each other. Both occurred, moreover, in those narrow seas of the West Indian archipelago which, since the British were driven out of Guadeloupe in December, 1794, had become doubly and trebly dangerous to our commerce. The vessel engaged was the “Portland,” sailing under command of her master, Mr. Nathaniel Taylor.

A young man, untried in the responsibilities of command, Mr. Taylor was making his first voyage in charge of the “Portland”; and being, as the scanty record tells us, engaged to be married on his return to Falmouth, he was doubtless eagerly looking out for opportunities of distinction—an aspiration which was destined to be amply gratified.

The “Portland” was somewhat more than a month out from Falmouth when, on October 1st, 1796, she was attacked in the neighbourhood of Barbados by a French Privateer which, after a close action of some duration, she succeeded in repulsing, with the loss apparently of only one man. Neither the name and force of the attacking vessel, nor any other details of the fight, have been preserved; but if the “Portland” was not outmatched in force, it can only be said that her antagonist was a much smaller vessel than any other Privateer, French, Spanish, or American, which came into conflict with a Packet throughout the war.

There were in fact few Privateers afloat which were not armed more heavily than the Post-Office Packets. It could not be otherwise, for the highwayman, whose arms were not superior to those of the peaceful traveller, could expect neither a long nor a merry life, and would see Tyburn earlier than he need.

It is certain, therefore, that the enemy repulsed by the “Portland” in this earlier action was a vessel stronger than herself; and Mr. Taylor, who had found his opportunity and grasped it, may have congratulated himself with the thought, that by the law of chances the perils of his voyage were over, and may thus have counted on carrying his laurels back to Falmouth.

But it was decided otherwise. On October 17th the “Portland” was lying becalmed off Guadeloupe—that hot-bed of privateering, a fatal monument of the shortsightedness of our naval administration—when an armed schooner, full of men, came out of a creek at no great distance, and using her sweeps, bore down on the “Portland.”

A very light breeze enabled Mr. Taylor to get his ship’s head off shore, and to make way under easy sail towards Martinique, at which island he was to touch. All night the strange schooner hung upon the “Portland’s” wake, and at daylight, on the 18th, the distance between the vessels was the same as at dusk on the previous evening.

Shortly after the first light the schooner bore down towards the Packet, and Mr. Taylor, thinking it time to bring the matter to an issue, hoisted his colours and fired a shot at the approaching vessel. The shot was instantly returned, and the next moment the colours of the French Republic were flying at the peak of the schooner, surmounted—in strange companionship with the ensign of a great and honourable nation—by the bloody flag, which signified that she would give no quarter in the coming fight.

There were on board the “Portland” four officers, Captain G. A. Tonyn, 48th Regiment; Captain J. Johnston of the Buffs; Captain G. Rainy of the 45th Regiment; and Captain W. Maxwell, 93rd Highlanders; together, with Dr. Green, surgeon to the Forces at Antigua, and five merchants resident on that island, St. Vincent, or Martinique. All these gentlemen appear to have taken part in the action, so that Mr. Taylor’s available force, allowing for the loss of one man in the former action, was increased to forty-one men and boys, some of whom, however, had probably been wounded when their sea-mate was killed. On board the French vessel there were, as was afterwards discovered, sixty-one fighting men; and relying on this superiority of force, which they quickly discerned, the French, after a short cannonade, ran down to close quarters, intending to finish the affair by an impetuous assault.

Mr. Taylor seems to have desired nothing more, and resolving to hold his enemies to the ground which they had selected, he seized the Privateer’s jib-boom as it ran aboard, lashed it securely, and then called his men forward, requesting the passengers at the same time to maintain a close fire of musketry on anything which showed itself on the deck of the enemy.

Then began a series of hand to hand combats, fought out desperately with cutlasses and boarding pikes. No details of these fights are left us; but we are told that out of the Privateer’s crew no less than forty-one were killed or wounded, and that the remnant were at last driven to haul down their colours, finding the Falmouth men had gained secure possession of their deck.

Some of the French had taken refuge below, and a few of these, not knowing, it may be hoped, that the colours had been struck, fired a volley in the very moment when Mr. Taylor was restraining the fury of his men; and the brave young captain fell, shot through the heart in the moment of victory.

Whether this unhappy occurrence was, as the passengers decided at the time, an act of premeditated treachery, or whether it may not more probably have found some justification in the confused circumstances of the moment, is a question which can never be determined. It is clear, however, that at the instant when he fell, though the colours were then certainly struck, Mr. Taylor found his authority needed to restrain further carnage; and if this were so, the responsibility for his death does not rest with the French. In any case, no charge of treachery should be made against honourable foes, save on evidence much clearer than is here forthcoming.

By the united testimony of the passengers, Mr. Taylor, throughout the action, was “perfectly calm, cool, and collected.” He achieved part at least of his wish. He made his reputation, and though he did not live to wear it, yet it survived him many years, and forms one of the few bright spots in the history of the Falmouth Packets during the last decade of the eighteenth century.

At Lombard Street there was need of all the credit which his gallantry had earned; for troubles were gathering thickly round the administrators of the sea service, and in the City the voice of discontent was loud and menacing. The war had now lasted four years. Within that period twelve Packets had been captured, having on board—for there was not always a ship ready to embark the mail—no less than eighteen mails. On several occasions original letters and duplicates made for safety had both been lost. The inconvenience was immense, and the merchants grew restive under it.

It was easy enough to argue, as the Post-Office did, that in former wars the average of losses had been higher; and that to expect the Packets to carry every mail in safety was much the same as asking them to teach forbearance and morality to the enemy’s Privateers. The West India merchants neither listened nor replied to these contentions. They did not want arguments. They wanted security for their correspondence, and they looked to the Post-Office to obtain it for them, whether in war or peace.

When the Postmaster General and the other high officials cast their eyes around to discover what prospects there were of satisfying this very natural desire, they could not fail to discern that in the near future they were likely to fare worse than in the past. The hopes of peace raised by Lord Malmesbury’s negotiations in the autumn of 1796 had been disappointed. Even the Packet told off to convey despatches from the ambassador, having been driven ashore near Calais by a violent storm, was seized by the French and condemned as lawful prize, notwithstanding the full explanations which were rendered by her commander and by the British Government. The number of Privateers which were reported week by week to be issuing from St. Malo, Nantes, Bordeaux, and a hundred other ports was absolutely without precedent. Between 20° and 30° W. long. there were, as the officers of a Nantes Privateer informed some Packetsmen whom they had captured, no less than forty vessels like herself cruising with the sole object of preying on British commerce, and through this belt of enemies every West India Packet must pass. Many of these wolves of the ocean were hardly less powerful than frigates; and the smallest of them was an overmatch for any Packet in every point save that of individual courage and resource.

Moreover, when the war broke out it had been a duel between England and France alone, and the enmity of Holland on the north and Spain on the south somewhat limited the French powers of offence. Of whatever value this advantage might have been it was now lost; and the three powers henceforward presented a united front to England. The Privateers of any one could shelter, refit, or dispose of prizes in the ports of any other; and while this circumstance gave them an added strength in European waters, the case was even worse in the West Indies, where the French gained lurking places in every creek of the Spanish islands, and were enabled to lie in ambush for British commerce at numberless points where our ships were used to think themselves in safety.

It was easier by far to discern these facts of evil augury than to discover any remedy. They were still being pondered in Lombard Street when the merchants opened their attack and lodged a memorial in Downing Street in which they complained in the strongest terms of the failure of the Post-Office to protect their correspondence. Scarcely had this memorial been received when the loss within one month of three West India Packets stamped it with an urgency which even its promoters had not foreseen, and raised the subject immediately from one chiefly affecting a single class to a grave matter of national concern.

The “Princess Elizabeth,” homeward bound from Barbados and Jamaica, was taken on February 28th, by the “Actif,” a Privateer carrying fourteen guns and a hundred and thirty men. The “Swallow” carried the outward mails of February 1st, for the same islands, while the “Sandwich” took out those of February 15th and March 1st. Three consecutive mails were thus on board these two Packets; and even the most anxious of merchants, sending important letters in triplicate by successive mails, might fairly have thought his precautions adequate to the risks. How great then was the anger and alarm when the news arrived that both Packets were captured and the three mails lost may be easily conceived.

Even more alarming than the present loss was the apprehension for the future raised by the great force of the Privateers concerned in these captures. The “Du Gay” which captured the “Sandwich” carried no less than two hundred men and eighteen guns; while the captor of the “Swallow” was armed with sixteen guns (nines and sixes) and a hundred and twenty men. How, the Postmaster General demanded, could the Packets be expected to resist such force? And the merchants, echoing the question, declared that impossibility to be the basis of their whole argument; for the Packets, they asserted, had no more effective power of resisting Privateers than so many wherries from Blackfriars stairs.

The prayer of the merchants’ memorial was that the Packets might be so equipped as to enable them to resist any enemy of equal size. This, as the Postmaster General pointed out, meant that each one of the Post-Office fleet should carry at least fourteen guns and one hundred men—a proposition which would involve rebuilding every Packet afloat, since no one of them was constructed to carry such an armament; and besides, that great capital expenditure would more than treble the charges of the Service, which already resulted in a yearly loss of over £12,000, exclusive of the liabilities for captured Packets, amounting at this time to more than £34,000.

It was natural enough that the Government, involved in a dangerous and costly war, should decline to entertain such a costly proposal. The Post-Office, however, willing to strengthen its hands against the merchants, put forward a modified scheme for arming each Packet with ten four-pounders and forty men, at an extra cost of £8,000 yearly; and if more losses had been reported while that scheme was before the Treasury, it may have been that the Government would have accepted it. But unfortunately for the merchants, there was at this particular period a lull in the storm. Four months passed without disaster. Then came the report that the “Grantham” had been captured, but after a stout fight; and following the receipt of that news another equal period of good fortune. The disasters of February seemed to be exceptional. A House of Commons Committee was urging that by every means Post-Office expenditure should be reduced; the Treasury yielded to the greater pressure, and declined the Postmaster General’s proposals.

The “Grantham” was commanded by Captain James Bull, an officer of long experience and proved ability, whose son, Captain John Bull, afterwards made a considerable reputation as commander of “Duke of Marlborough,” of which much will be heard in subsequent chapters of this work. The “Grantham” was attacked near Barbados by a French Privateer of “fourteen double fortified four-pounders and one hundred and eleven men.” She was much shattered in the action which preceded her capture; but no details of the fight have been preserved. Not long after it was decided, the “Tamar” frigate happily chanced to pass that way, and delivered Captain Bull and his men from the prospect of a French prison.

Those optimists who held the comfortable faith that the disasters of February, 1797, were not likely to be repeated received an uncomfortable shock in the last month of that year and the first of the new one.

The “Countess of Leicester,” which sailed from Falmouth on November 21st with mails for New York, should, under normal circumstances, have carried only those of the previous week. But it was at this time a practical impossibility to despatch every mail as soon as it reached Falmouth; and—strange as it seems to us to hear of such delays—the “Countess of Leicester” had on board not only the bags made up for her regular turn, but also those which should have been despatched from Falmouth on November 1st, but which had lain there three weeks, waiting for a Packet. It is difficult in these days even to imagine the outcry which would be caused by the delay of a mail for three weeks at the port of embarkation. But in 1797 such inconveniences were the trifles at which reasonable men did not cavil. The grievance lay in the fact that both mails were ultimately lost altogether.

The scarcity of Packets was already so great that it may be presumed that the “Prince Edward,” which left Falmouth in the middle of December, and was captured off Barbados, was carrying out more mails than one; while this blow was instantly followed by the loss of two successive homeward mails, carried by the “Prince Ernest” and the “Portland.” It can scarcely be conceived that the brave crew of the latter vessel surrendered without struggle; but still, fight or no fight, the mails were gone.

This was more than the patience of the merchants could bear. To lose in one month at least two outward and two homeward mails—and it is quite possible that on board the three Packets even more mails had been stowed—was almost sufficient to bring their business to a standstill. The inconvenience was mounting to an intolerable pitch. They applied for a conference with the Postmaster General; and had scarcely done so when the news arrived that the “Roebuck,” homeward bound from the Leeward Islands, and the “Swallow,” outward bound on the same voyage, had both been captured by a single Privateer.

There was the same story of overwhelming force against which the Packets could not contend. The captor of the “Roebuck” was a Nantes Privateer, “La Liberale,” carrying over two hundred men, and armed with eighteen 18–pounder guns, and it may be stated by the way that the captured officers told a remarkable story of the elfish mischievousness of the victors, who seemed to have behaved more like riotous schoolboys than like seamen. “On the enemy taking possession of the Packet,” says Captain Servante, “they plundered her of every cabin and ship-store; and what they did not take with them, they wilfully destroyed or threw overboard. Several new sails they cut to pieces and divided among them; and a suit of sails that were bent to the yards, little the worse for wear, they suffered to blow to pieces, there not being a seaman among them who would venture aloft to take them in.”

The conference between the merchants and the Postmaster General was grave and weighty, according to the dignified manners of those days. The merchants, after remarking that no arrangement of the Packet Service could be adequate for the purposes of their trade, which did not render it highly improbable that even one homeward bound Packet would be lost, proceeded to ask whether it really was the case that the new Packets had attained that swiftness of sailing to which all their qualities of defence had been sacrificed. The average duration of the outward passage to Jamaica (touching at Barbados and other islands) is, they said, 45 days, and from Jamaica to Falmouth (touching only at Cape Nicola), 35 days. Now, these are very ordinary passages, remarkable in no way for speed. And the merchants emphasized their point by repeating that Packets designed expressly for speed ought to have been able to outsail Privateers. Why, then, had they not done so? Because, they concluded, some abuses exist in the mode of loading or navigating the Packets.

They were right; abuses did exist, of which the nature must be more fully explained in the next chapter. But before entering upon that subject, it will be well to complete the record of disasters, so that it may be understood more fully of what the merchants had to complain.

One of the practical suggestions made at the conference was that the Admiralty might be asked to lend a cutter which could be sent out with mails for the Leeward Islands and Jamaica. The request was made and granted by the Admiralty; but the cutter fared no better than the Packets, for on her homeward voyage she, too, was captured.

Great as was the number of Privateers which issued from the French and Spanish islands in the West Indies throughout this war, it was never so great as in the year 1798. How many were actually afloat will never be known; but, doubtless, the number captured by our cruisers in any one year bore some kind of rough fixed proportion to the whole body. Now, in 1796—if the figures given by Southey (_Chronological History of the West Indies_, Vol. III., p. 149) are correct—only sixteen were captured; but in 1797 the number had risen to sixty-seven; and in 1798 no less than ninety-nine of these sharks were brought in by our sloops and frigates.

It may be that for every one so captured there were five still lurking in the creeks and shallow waters round Guadeloupe or Cuba; and numbers such as these might suggest that it was well-nigh impossible for our Packets to sail among the islands without encountering an enemy. But the ocean is wide, and it is marvellously easy for vessels to miss each other, even when both have the desire for an encounter.

The conference was held in March. In April no Packets were lost, but at the end of May the “Princess of Wales,” outward bound for Jamaica, was taken by a Privateer; and a week or two later the “Prince Adolphus,” which was carrying a mail to Lisbon, met with a similar fate. About the latter vessel there hangs a curious story, which is worth relating.

It appears that when the French took possession of the “Prince Adolphus,” they sent Captain Boulderson, her commander, with the greater part of his crew, on board the Privateer. Five men remained on the Packet, among whom the surgeon was the only officer; and a prize crew was instructed to navigate the prize into whatever French port could first be made.

Mr. Bullock, the surgeon, was by no means anxious to go to prison; and when the Packet had separated from her captor, he began to work on the cupidity of the prize master, and ultimately persuaded him to give up the ship, and restore all his prisoners to liberty in consideration of receiving a sum equivalent to about £4000, to be paid on the arrival of the vessel at Lisbon, where Mr. Bullock felt confident that the money would be forthcoming.

Accordingly, the “Prince Adolphus” was navigated into the Tagus, and Mr. Bullock, persuaded that he had made a good bargain—for, while the Packet itself was not worth less than the stipulated ransom, the goods on board were worth as much again—repaired to the office of the Post-Office agent at Lisbon, Mr. Gonne, and demanded help in carrying out the transaction to which he had pledged the credit of the Government. But here an unexpected check occurred; for Mr. Gonne, asking grimly whether the doctor wished both of them to be drawn and quartered on a scaffold at Tyburn, produced an Act of Parliament, recently passed, which declared it treason for any British subject to remit money to persons owing obedience to the French Government.

Mr. Bullock and his companions were thus left to take their choice of three painful alternatives. Firstly, they might break their pledge freely given to the prize master; secondly, they might execute that pledge and submit to the penalties of high treason; or lastly, they might once more go on board the “Prince Adolphus,” and—if indeed the harbour authorities would have allowed a vessel under French command to leave the Tagus in safety—permit the prize master to put to sea, and conduct them whither he would.

The last alternative, distressing as it was for men who had once set foot in freedom, seemed the only practicable one. This was recognized by every one concerned, but before adopting it the case was referred to the Postmaster General, who, after consultation with ministers, decided that the ransom should be paid, and that a clause should be inserted in a forthcoming Act of Parliament, indemnifying the persons concerned in the transaction.

The money was accordingly handed over to the Frenchmen, who departed full of praises of the honourable treatment they had received, and which they did their best to requite in kind, for they wrote to the French Minister of Marine, stating what had occurred, and begging that, if only to mark their high esteem of the conduct of the English Government, Captain Boulderson might at once be liberated. This request was complied with, and Captain Boulderson very shortly returned to Falmouth.

Such was the end of a difficult affair, and if in its conclusion the Postmaster General found some ground for satisfaction, it could only have been with a chastened pleasure that they read the story of how the best had been made of a serious misfortune, and how a Packet, designed to escape the French, had been got out of their hands without so very much loss after all. But a gleam of better fortune was at hand, and the valour of one officer did much to redeem the record of the Falmouth Station in the year 1798.

The “Princess Royal” was commanded by Captain John Skinner, an officer of long experience and proved courage. On June 22nd, the Packet being then in Mid-Atlantic, bound for Halifax, a brig was discovered at daybreak in chase of the Packet, and Captain Skinner promptly caused the decks to be cleared for action, and barricaded the ship as far as possible with hammocks and spare sails.

The wind was unfortunately very light, and the sea calm, so that though the “Princess Royal” crowded all sail to get away, the Privateer, which was using sweeps, gained ground perceptibly. It was not until 7 P.M., however, that she came within gunshot. A few broadsides were then exchanged without much effect on either side, after which the Privateer, having satisfied herself that resistance was intended, laid in her sweeps and waited for the day.

At 3 A.M. she swept up somewhat suddenly. Captain Skinner was quite ready however, and as she drew near he began to play upon her with his two 6–pounder stern chasers. Unfortunately one of these guns was rendered useless after the first discharge by the snapping of its axle tree, but the other was served with vigour. The one gun, however, did not suffice to stop the advancing Privateer, for at 3.30 A.M. she was alongside, and the action was in full progress.

James, who in his _Naval History_ mentions but three of the numerous actions fought by the Packets, states that at this point Captain Skinner succeeded in bringing his six guns to bear on the side on which he was attacked.[3] Captain Skinner does not mention this in his report to the Postmaster General; and indeed, as has been seen, one of his six guns was already useless. Very probably some such arrangement of the remaining five was attempted, but if so, any advantage which might have resulted from it was quickly lost, for Captain Skinner tells us that very shortly after the loss of his 6–pounder the axle trees of two of his 4–pounders gave way, and that he fought practically throughout the whole action with three guns only.

Footnote 3:

_Nav. Hist._, Vol. II., p. 207.

That he succeeded under these unfortunate circumstances in holding his ground against a more powerful antagonist is a striking proof of courage and seamanship. The cannonade lasted two hours, and during the whole of that time the “Princess Royal” was so manœuvred by her captain that the French had no opportunity of boarding, and were thus in some measure deprived of the advantage of their superior numbers. Meantime the passengers, under the direction of General Murray, had formed themselves into a body of riflemen, and were keeping up a galling fire on their enemies with excellent effect, for at 5.30 P.M. the Privateer sheered off.

It would have been folly for Captain Skinner with half his guns dismounted to endeavour to renew the action, so with a few parting shots from the chaser, which appeared to create confusion on the Privateer, the vessels separated, and the “Princess Royal” pursued her voyage.

In this action two men were badly wounded, and Captain Skinner himself was hurt less seriously by the explosion of a powder-horn. It happened that on board the Privateer there were thirty English and American prisoners; and from some of these men it was afterwards ascertained that the “Princess Royal” had engaged the “Aventurier” of Bordeaux, a Privateer carrying fourteen long 4–pounders, and two 12–pound cannonades, with eighty-five men, an armament which might have been expected to secure a quick and almost bloodless victory for its possessors. The event, however, was so far otherwise that while two of the “Aventurier’s” crew were killed, and four wounded, the vessel herself was so much injured that with all her masts shot through and no less than nineteen round shot in her hull, she was obliged to break up her cruise and return to Bordeaux to refit.