“I won’t ask you for your story till after dinner,” Mr. Palethorpe said. “To enjoy a yarn one needs to be comfortable, and I feel more at home in my arm-chair in the dining-room than I do in this room, with all its fal-lals. You see, I have taken the house furnished. When I settle down in a home of my own, I can assure you it will look very different from this. In fact I have one already building for me. It is at Dulwich, and will be as nearly as possible like my house in Jamaica. Of course there will be differences. I at first wished to have the same sort of veranda, but the architect pointed out that while in Jamaica one requires shade, here one wants light. So they are getting large sheets of glass specially made for putting in instead of wood above the windows. Then, of course, we want good fireplaces, whereas in Jamaica a fire is only necessary for a few days in the year. There are also other little differences, but on the whole it will remind me of the place I had for so many years.”
“The house will have one advantage over that in Jamaica, Mr. Palethorpe.”
“What is that?” he asked.
“You will be able to go to bed comfortably without fear of having the roof taken from over your head by a hurricane.”
“Ah! that is indeed a matter to which I have not given sufficient consideration, but it is certainly a very substantial advantage, as we have all good reason to know.”
“I never think of it without shuddering,” Alice said. “It was awful! It seemed as if there was an end of everything! I think it was the memory of that night that first set me thinking of going to England.”
“Then I cannot but feel grateful to that hurricane, for if you had remained out there it is probable that I should never have met you again.”
“I am having a large conservatory built so that we can have greenness and flowers all the year,” Mr. Palethorpe remarked presently.
“I should think that would be charming. I hope you will be settled at Dulwich long before I come back from my next cruise.”
“Well, I don’t know that I can say the same, Will. I hope your next cruise will be a short one.”
When dinner was over, the chairs were drawn up to the fire, and Will related his adventures since his return from the West Indies.
“Have you heard of your two favourite sailors?” Alice interrupted.
“Dimchurch and Tom Stevens? No, I have not. I shall feel lost without them at sea, and sincerely hope that I may some day run against them, in which case I am sure, if they are free, they will join my ship.”
“How terribly cut up they must have been,” the girl said, “when they got down to the beach and found that you were missing!”
“I am sure they would be,” he replied. “I expect the rest of the men almost had to hold them back by force.”
“Well, go on. You were hit and made prisoner.”
Will went on with his story till he came to his escape from Verdun.
“What was she like?” the girl asked. “I expect she was very pretty.”
“No, not particularly so. She was a very pleasant-looking girl.”
“I can imagine she seemed very pleasant to you,” the girl laughed; “and, of course, before you got out of the window and climbed to the top of the house you kissed her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did,” Will said. “Of course she expected to be kissed. I am not at all used to kissing. In fact, I only experienced it once before, and then I was a perfectly passive actor in the affair.”
The girl flushed up rosily.
“You drew that upon yourself, Alice,” her father said. “If you had left him alone he would not have brought up that old affair.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I was only thirteen, and he had saved my life.”
“You didn’t do it again, my dear, I hope, when you met him in the street to-day.”
“Of course not!” she exclaimed indignantly. “The idea of such a thing!”
“Very well, let this be a lesson to you not to enquire too strictly into such matters.”
“Ah! I will bear it in mind,” she said.
“I can assure you, Alice, that it was a perfectly friendly kiss. She was engaged to be married to a young soldier who was a prisoner at Porchester, and during the past week I have been employed in setting him free, as you will hear presently. I promised her I would do so if possible, and of course I kept my word.”
“What! you, an English officer, set a French prisoner free! I am shocked!” Mr. Palethorpe said.
“I would have tried to set twenty of them free if twenty of their sweethearts had united to get me away from prison.”
They laughed heartily at the story of his escape as a pedlar, and were intensely interested in his account of the manner in which he succeeded in getting a despatch from the agent of the British Government at Amsterdam. He continued the narrative until his arrival in England.
“Now we shall hear, I suppose, how this British officer perpetrated an act of treason against His Most Gracious Majesty.”
“Well, I suppose it was that in the eyes of the law,” Will laughed. “Fortunately, however, the law has no cognizance of the affair, at any rate not of my share in it. I don’t suppose it has been heard of outside Porchester. As His Gracious Majesty has some forty thousand prisoners in England, the loss of one more or less will not trouble his gracious brain.”
He then related the whole story of Lucien’s escape.
“I should have liked to see you dressed up like a pedlar, with your face all painted, and a wig and whiskers,” the girl said, “though I don’t suppose I should have recognized you in that disguise to-day.”
“It was a capitally-managed plan, Will, and had it been for a legitimate object I should have given it unstinted praise. And so you saw him fairly off from England?”
“Yes; and by this time I have no doubt he is on the top of a vehicle of some sort, going as fast as horses can gallop to join his sweetheart.”
“I wonder,” Alice said mischievously, “whether she will ever tell him of that kiss at the window.”
“I dare say she will,” laughed Will, “but perhaps not till they are married. I sent her the gold watch I promised her, and when she holds it up before his eyes I think he won’t grudge her the kiss. Still, I believe these things are not always mentioned.”
“No, I suppose not,” she said, with an affectation of not understanding him. “Why should they be?”
“I can’t say indeed, if you can’t.”
“Well, I am not ashamed of it one little bit, though I own that I never have told anybody. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I am sure there were at least half a dozen ladies in Jamaica who would willingly have kissed you for what you did for them.”
“Thank you! I should certainly not have willingly submitted to the ordeal.”
It was late when the story was finished, and they soon afterwards went to bed.
Will spent a delightful week with his friends. Alice had grown up into a charming young woman, full of life and vivacity, and even prettier than she had promised to be as a girl. They went about together to all the sights of London, for Mr. Palethorpe said that he didn’t care about going, and young people were best left to themselves. When the time came for parting, Will for the first time experienced a feeling of reluctance at joining his ship. He and Alice were now almost on their old footing, and Will thought that she was by far the nicest girl he had ever seen; but it was not until he was on the top of the Portsmouth coach that he recognized how much she was to him. “Well,” he said to himself, “I never thought I should feel like this. Some young fellows are always falling in love. I used to think it was all nonsense, but now I understand it. I do not know why her father should object to me, as I am fairly well off. I must see as much of her as I can when I land next time. I hope she won’t meet anyone in the meantime she likes better.”
The Jason was now lying out in the harbour, and the riggers had taken possession of her. Will at once reported himself and went on board. The other officers had not yet joined, but he at once took up his work with his usual zeal, and spent a busy fortnight looking after the riggers, and seeing that everything was done in the best manner. He was, however, somewhat angry to find that Alice’s face and figure were constantly intruding themselves into the cordage and shrouds. “I am becoming a regular mooncalf,” he said angrily to himself. “It is perfectly absurd that I can’t keep my thoughts from wandering away from my work, and for a girl whom I can hardly dare hope to win. I shall be very glad when we are off to sea. I’ll then have, I won’t say something better, but something else to think of. If this is being in love, certainly it is not the thing a sailor should engage in. I have often heard it said that a sailor’s ship should be his wife, and I have no longer any doubt about it. But I know I’ll get over it when I hear the first broadside fired.”
A week later the first lieutenant joined. His name was Somerville.
“Ah, Mr. Gilmore,” he said, “I see you have taken time by the forelock and given an eye to everything! I only received my appointment two days ago or I should have joined before. There is nothing like having an officer to superintend things, and I feel really very much obliged to you for not having extended your leave, which, of course, you could have done, especially as, so far as I know, no boatswain has yet been appointed.”
“I was glad to get back to work, sir, and it is really very interesting seeing all the rigging set up from the very beginning.”
“That is so, but for all that men don’t generally want to rejoin,” the first lieutenant said with a smile. “The difficulty is to get young officers on board. They hang back, as a rule, till the very last moment. Well, if you will dine with me this evening, Mr. Gilmore, at the George, I shall be glad to hear of some of your services. That they are distinguished I have no doubt, for nothing but the most meritorious services or extraordinary interest could have gained you at your age the appointment of second lieutenant in a fine ship like this. I think it a very good thing for the first lieutenant to know the antecedents of those serving with him. Such knowledge is very useful to him in any crisis or emergency.”
After dinner that evening Will gave an account of his services, the lieutenant at times asking for more minute details, especially of the capture of the two pirates.
“Thank you very much!” Lieutenant Somerville said when he had finished. “Now I feel that I can, in any emergency, depend upon you to second me, which I can assure you is by no means commonly the case, for promotion goes so much by influence, and such incapable men are pushed up in the service that it is a comfort indeed to have an officer who knows his work thoroughly. I hope to goodness we shall have the captain so fine a ship deserves.”
“I hope so indeed, sir. I have hitherto been extremely fortunate in having good captains, as good as one could wish for.”
“You are fortunate indeed, then. I have been under two or three men who, either from ignorance or ill-temper or sheer indifference, have been enough to take the heart entirely out of their officers.”
On the day when the Jason was ready for commission the captain came down to Portsmouth and put up at the George, and Mr. Somerville and Will called upon him there. He was a young man, some years younger than the first lieutenant.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “I have pleasure in making your acquaintance. I saw the admiral this morning, and he assured me that I could not wish for better officers. I hope we shall get on pleasantly together, and can assure you that if we do not it will not be my fault. We have as fine a ship as men could wish to sail in, and I will guarantee that you will not find me slack in using her. As you may guess by my age, I owe my present position partly to family interest, but my object will be to prove that that interest has not been altogether misplaced. I have already had command of a frigate, and we had our full share of hard service. I am afraid that with a seventy-four we shall not have quite so many opportunities of distinguishing ourselves, but shall generally have to work with the fleet and fight when other people bid us, and not merely when we see a good chance. There is, however, as much credit, if not as much prize-money, to be gained in a pitched battle as in isolated actions. I was kindly permitted by the admiral to read both your records of service, and I cannot say how gratified I was to find that I had two such able and active officers to second me.”
“I am sure we are much obliged to you, sir,” Lieutenant Somerville replied, “for speaking to us as you have done. I can answer for it that we will second you to the very best of our power, and I am glad indeed to find that we have a commander whose sentiments so entirely accord with our own.”
“Now, gentlemen, we have done with the formalities. Let us crack a bottle of wine together to our better acquaintance, and I hope I shall very often see you at my table on board, for while I feel that discipline must be maintained, I have no belief in a captain holding himself entirely aloof from his officers, as if he were a little god. On the quarter-deck a captain must stand somewhat aloof, but in his own cabin I cannot see why he should not treat his officers as gentlemen like himself.”
They sat and chatted for an hour, and when they left, Lieutenant Somerville said to Will: “If I am not much mistaken, we shall have a very pleasant time on board the Jason. I believe Captain Charteris means every word he says, and that he is a thoroughly good fellow. He has a very pleasant face, though a firm and resolute one, and when he gives an order it will have to be obeyed promptly; but he is a man who will make allowances, and I do not think the cat will be very often brought into requisition on board.”
One day Will was sauntering down the High Street when he saw two country-looking men coming along. One of them looked at him and staggered back in astonishment.
“Why,” he exclaimed, “it is Mr. Gilmore! We thought you were in prison in the middle of France, sir.”
“So I was, Dimchurch; but, as you see, I have taken leg-bail.”
“That was a terrible affair, sir, at them French batteries. When I got down to the shore, and found you were missing, it was as much as they could do to keep Tom here and me from going back. You mayn’t believe me, Mr. Gilmore, but we both cried like children as we rowed to the Tartar.”
“I am indeed glad to see you again, and you too, Tom. I guessed that if I ever came across the one I should meet the other also. What are you doing in those togs?”
“Well, sir, we put them on because we did not want to be impressed by the first ship that came in, but preferred to wait a bit till we saw one to suit us. I see, sir, that you have shipped a swab. That means, of course, that you have got a lieutenancy. I congratulate you indeed, sir, on your promotion.”
“Yes, I got it a month ago, and to a fine ship, the Jason.”
“She is a fine ship, sir, and no mistake. Tom and I were watching her lying out in the harbour yesterday, and were saying that, though we have always been accustomed to frigates, we should not mind shipping in her if we found out something about the captain.”
“Well, I can tell you, Dimchurch, that he is just the man you would like to serve under, young and dashing, and, I should say, a good officer and a fine fellow.”
“And who is the first lieutenant, sir, because that matters almost as much as the captain.”
“He is a good fellow too, Dimchurch, a man who loves his profession and has a good record.”
“And who is the second, sir? not that it matters much about him if the captain and first luff are all right. I suppose she has four on board, as she is a line-of-battle ship?”
“Yes, she carries four. As to the second, I can only tell you that he is one of the finest fellows in the service, and you will understand that when I say that I am the second lieutenant.”
“What, sir!” Dimchurch almost shouted, “they have made you second lieutenant on a line-of-battle ship! Well, that is one of the few times I have known promotion go by merit. I am glad, sir. Well, I will go and sign articles at once, and so, of course, will Tom; and what is more, I will guarantee to find you a score of first-rate hands, maybe more.”
“That is good indeed,” Will said. “I will speak to the first lieutenant and get you rated as boatswain, if possible. You have already served in that capacity, and unless the berth is filled up, which is not likely, I have no doubt I can get it for you.”
“Well, sir, if you can, of course I shall be glad; but I would ship with you if it was only as loblolly boy.”
“The same here,” Tom said; “you know that, sir, without my saying it.”
“Is there any berth that I could get you, Tom?”
“No, sir, thank you! A.B. is good enough for me. I am not active enough to be captain of the top, but I can pull on a rope, or row an oar, or strike a good blow, with any man.”
“That you can, Tom; but I do wish I could get you a lift too. How about gunner’s mate?”
“No, thank you, sir! I would rather stop A.B. I should like to be your honour’s servant, but, lor’, I should never do to wait in the ward-room. I am as clumsy as a bear, and should always be spilling something, and breaking glasses, and getting into trouble. No, sir, I will be A.B., but of course I should like to be appointed to your boat.”
“That is a matter of course, Tom. Well, I will go round to the dockyard at once and see you sworn in, and then gladden the first lieutenant’s heart by telling him that you will bring a good number of men along with you, for at present we are very short-handed.”
“You trust me for that, sir. I know where lots of them are lying hid, not because they don’t want to serve, but because they want a good ship and a good captain. When I tell them that it is a fine ship, and a good captain, and a good first and second, they will jump at it.”
Dimchurch was as good as his word, and the following week persuaded thirty first-class seamen to sign on.
“At the same time, sir,” he said as they went towards the harbour, “I would rather she had been a frigate. One has always a chance of picking up something then, as one gets sent about on expeditions, while on a battle-ship one is just stuck blockading.”
“That is just what I think,” Tom said. “There are no boat expeditions, no chances of picking up a prize every two or three days, or of chasing a pirate. Still, though the Tartar was a frigate, we did not have much fun in her, except when we were on shore. That was good enough, though it would not have been half so good if the sailors had not done it alone. We wanted to show these redcoats what British seamen could do when they were on their metal. I know I never worked half so hard in my life.”
“Well, I quite agree with you. It is more pleasant commanding a small craft than being second officer in a large one, although I must say I could not have had a more pleasant captain and first lieutenant than I have now if I had picked them out from the whole fleet. I am sorry that I cannot get leave at present, for I want to make researches about my father. According to what my lawyer said it is likely to be a long job. I hope, however, to get it well in trim on my next spell ashore. It makes really no difference to me now who or what my father was. I have a good position, and what with the prize-money I made before, and shall gain now by my share of the sale of the frigates we took at Corsica, to say nothing of the guns and stores we captured, I have more than enough to satisfy all my wants.”
“I have done extraordinarily well too, Mr. Gilmore,” Dimchurch said. “I took your advice, and Tom and I have put all our prize-money aside. He has over a thousand saved, and I have quite sufficient to keep me in idleness all my life, even if I never do a stroke of work again.”
Mr. Somerville, on Will’s recommendation, at once appointed Dimchurch boatswain, and he soon proved himself thoroughly efficient. “He is a fine fellow, that sailor of yours,” the lieutenant said, “and will make a first-rate boatswain. He has done good service in bringing up so many hands, and good ones too, and he is evidently popular among the men.”
“He is a thoroughly good man, sir. He attached himself to my fortunes when I was but a ship’s boy, and has stuck to me ever since. He and Tom Stevens are, with one exception, the greatest friends I have ever had, and both of them would lay down their lives for me.”
“A good master makes a good man,” Lieutenant Somerville said with a smile. “Your greatest friend was, of course, the lady who pushed you on with your education.”
“Yes, sir, certainly I regard her as the best friend I ever had.”
“Well, there is no better friend for a lad than a good woman, Gilmore. In that sense my mother was my greatest friend. Most mothers are against their sons going to sea. In my case it was my father who objected, but my mother, seeing how I was bent upon it, persuaded him to let me go.”
Three weeks after being commissioned the complement of the Jason was complete, and she was ordered to proceed to the West Indies, to which place they made a fast passage. To their disappointment they fell in with none of the enemy’s cruisers on their way. The voyage, however, sufficed to give the crew confidence in their commander. He was prompt and quick in giving orders, and at the same time pleasant in manner. He paid far more attention than most captains to the comfort of his crew, and, while he insisted upon the most perfect order and discipline, abstained from giving unnecessary work. In cases where punishments were absolutely necessary he punished severely, but when it was at all possible he let delinquents off with a lecture. So, while he was feared by the rougher spirits of the crew, he was regarded with liking and respect by the good men.
On their arrival at Carlisle Bay, Barbados, they found that they were in time to join a naval expedition whose object was to recover the islands of St. Lucia, St. Vincent, and Grenada, which had been captured by the French the previous year.
A fleet had been sent from England under the command of Rear-admiral Christian, consisting of two ships of the line and five frigates, convoying a large fleet of transports with a strong body of troops on board under the command of Sir Ralph Abercrombie.
At Carlisle Bay this fleet were joined by most of the ships on the West Indian station, and on the 21st April, 1796, the augmented fleet, under the command of Sir John Laforey, sailed to Marin Bay, Martinique, where they anchored. On the following day Sir John Laforey resigned his command to Admiral Christian and sailed for England. The fleet then stood across to St. Lucia. The troops were landed at three different points under the protection of the guns of the fleet.
The first point was protected by a five-gun battery. The fire of the ships, however, soon silenced it, and the first division made good its landing. The seventy-four-gun ship Alfred was to have led the second division, supported by the fifty-four-gun ship Madras and the forty-gun frigate Beaulieu, but the attempt was thwarted by lightness of wind and a strong lee current. On the next day, however, a landing was effected with little opposition. Eight hundred seamen, under the command of Captains Lane of the thirty-two-gun frigate Astrea and Ryves of the bomb-vessel Bulldog, were landed to co-operate with the troops. Morne Chabot was attacked and carried that night with the loss of thirteen officers and privates killed, forty-nine wounded, and twelve missing.
On the 3rd of May an attempt was made to dislodge the enemy from their batteries at the base of the mountains, but was repulsed with loss, as was an attack on the 17th on the place called Vigie.
In the meantime the men had been busy building batteries and planting guns, and when these opened fire on the evening of the 24th of May the enemy capitulated, two thousand marching out and laying down their arms. A great quantity of guns, together with stores of every description, were found in the different forts, and some small privateers and merchantmen were captured in the offing. Eight hundred seamen and three hundred and twenty marines had been landed from the ships of war, and had behaved with their usual courage and promptitude. The manner, indeed, in which they established batteries and planted guns in places deemed almost impracticable astonished the troops, unused as they were to exercises demanding strength and skill.
As soon as St. Lucia had surrendered, the expedition moved to St. Vincent. The defence here was decidedly weak, and after some skirmishing, the enemy, composed chiefly of negroes and Caribs, capitulated. Our loss amounted to thirty-eight killed and one hundred and forty-five wounded. Grenada offered a comparatively slight resistance. The monster, Fedon, who was in command there, massacred twenty white people who were in his power in full view of the British, who were on the plain below. He and his men, however, were hotly pursued through the forest by a detachment of German riflemen, and the greater portion of them killed without mercy.
A detachment of British and colonial troops from the garrison of Port au Prince in St. Domingo proceeded to besiege the town of Leogane in that island. Covered by the guns of the fleet the troops were landed in two divisions, while the Swiftsure, seventy-four, cannonaded the town, and the Leviathan and Africa the forts. The place, however, was too strong for them, and at nightfall the ships moved off to an anchorage, while those who had landed were withdrawn on the following morning. Two of the frigates were so much damaged that they were compelled to return to Jamaica to refit. An attack was next made upon the fort of Bombarde, which stood at a distance of fifteen miles from the coast. Will and a detachment from his ship formed part of the force engaged. The road was extremely rough, and was blocked by fallen trees and walls built across it. The labour of getting the cannon along was prodigious.
“I must say,” Will said to Dimchurch, who was one of the party, “I greatly prefer fighting on board to work like this. We have to labour like slaves from early morning till late in the evening; but I don’t so much mind that, as the fact that at night we have to lie down with only the food that remains in our haversacks, and what water we may have saved, for supper. Now in a fight at sea one at least gets as much to drink as one wants.”
“I quite agree with you, Mr. Gilmore. It’s dog’s work without dog’s food. I don’t mind myself working here with a chopper eight or ten hours a day, but I do like a good supper at the end of it. The worst of it is, that when it is all over it is the troops who get all the credit, while we poor beggars do the greater part of the work. The soldiers are well enough in their way, but they are very little good for hard work. How do you account for that, sir?”
“I can only suppose, Dimchurch, that while they get as much food as we do, they have nothing like the same amount of hard work to do.”
“That’s it, sir. Why, look at them at Portsmouth! They just go out of a morning and drill on the common for a bit, and then they have nothing else to do all day but to stroll about the town and talk to the girls. How can you expect a man to have any muscle to speak of when he never does a stroke of hard work? I don’t say they don’t fight well, for I own they do their duty like men in that line; but when it comes to work, why, they ain’t in it with a jack-tar. I do believe I could pull a couple of them over a line.”
“I dare say you could, Dimchurch, but you must remember that you are much stronger than an ordinary seaman.”
“Well, sir, I grant I am stronger than usual, but I should be ashamed of myself if I could not tackle two of them soldiers.”
“Yes, but don’t forget they have been cooped up on board a ship for a month, with nothing to keep them in health, and certainly no exercise, while you are constantly doing hard work. If you were to put these men into sailors’ clothes, and give them sailors’ work for six months, they would be just as strong and useful.”
“Well, sir, if they are that sort of men why do they go and enlist in the army instead of becoming sailors. It stands to reason that it is because they know that they cannot do work.”
“Why, Dimchurch, I have heard that in the great towns girls think as much of soldiers as of sailors.”
“Well, that shows how little they know about them. In a seaport, what girl would look at a soldier if she were pretty enough to get a sailor for a sweetheart.”
“You are a prejudiced beggar,” Will laughed, “and it is of no use arguing with you. If you had gone as a soldier instead of taking to the sea you would think just the other way.”
On the next morning the march was renewed, and in the evening they reached the fort. They had had several severe skirmishes during the day, losing eight killed and twenty-two wounded, but the garrison, consisting of three hundred, surrendered without further resistance as soon as the place was surrounded, and the sailors then rejoined their ships.
“Well, I am mighty glad I am back on board,” Dimchurch said to Will the evening they re-embarked. “This marching, and chopping trees, and being shot at from ambushes, doesn’t suit me. There is nothing manly or straightforward about it. Hand to hand and cutlass to cutlass is what I call a man’s work.”
“That is all very well, Dimchurch, but though you may capture ships you will never get possession of islands or colonies in that way. If you want them you must land and fight for them.”
“Yes, sir, that is all very good, but it seems to me that the hard work of making batteries and mounting guns falls on the sailor, while the soldier gets all the credit. It is not our admiral who sends the despatches, it is the general. He may speak a few good words for the sailors, as a man speaks up for a dog, but all the credit of the fighting, and the surrender, and all that business goes to the soldiers. The sooner we sail away from here, and do some fighting nearer home, where there are no soldiers, and where the sailors get their due, the better pleased I shall be.”
“Well, Dimchurch, I hope our turn out here is nearly finished. We may have to take part in a few more attacks on French possessions, but as soon as that work is over I have great hopes that we shall get sailing orders for home again.”
Indeed, late in August a fast cruiser arrived with orders that the Jason was at once to return to Brest and join the Channel fleet. To the great delight of everyone the wind continued favourable throughout the whole voyage, and after an exceptionally speedy passage they joined Admiral Bridport, who was cruising off Ushant on the look-out for the French fleet that was preparing for the invasion of Ireland.
The French fleet, under Admiral Morard-de-Galles, got under weigh from Brest on 26th December, 1796. It consisted of seventeen ships of the line, thirteen frigates, six corvettes, seven transports, and a powder-ship, forty-four sail in all, conveying eight thousand troops under the command of Generals Grouchy, Borin, and Humbert. Misfortune, however, dogged the fleet from the very commencement, for the Séduisant, a seventy-four-gun battle-ship, got on shore shortly after leaving Brest, and out of thirteen hundred seamen and soldiers on board six hundred and eighty were drowned.
They were noticed by Vice-admiral Colpoys’ fleet, who sent off two frigates to warn Lord Bridport, and after chasing the French for some distance himself, sailed for Falmouth to report the setting out of the expedition.
Admiral Bouvet, with thirty-two sail, managed to reach the mouth of Bantry Bay, but the weather was so tempestuous that he was unable to land his troops. After struggling for some days against this boisterous weather, the fleet scattered, and the majority of the ships returned to Brest. The rest reached the coast of Ireland, but not finding the main portion of their fleet there, they returned to France.
The failure of the expedition was as complete as was that of the Spanish Armada, and was due greatly to the same cause. Out of the forty-four ships that sailed from Brest only thirty-one managed to return to France. The British frigates, by the vigilance they displayed, had done good service, cutting off four transports and three ships of war; but the stormy weather had dispersed the expedition, and was accountable for the loss of two battle-ships, three frigates, and a transport. It was curious that although Lord Bridport’s fleet was constantly patrolling the Channel during this time, the two fleets never came in contact.
