France, having at length obtained internal quiet, and a settled Government under the Directory, and secured the alliance of Spain and Holland, prepared for a decisive blow against Great Britain. The condition of the British empire was at that time peculiarly critical. Of her allies, some had joined the enemy, and the others had proved unequal to resist him. In the East, the most powerful of the native princes were preparing to subvert her authority. At home, Ireland was organized for rebellion; and England herself contained a strong revolutionary party, checked, indeed, by the energy of the Government, and still more by the excellent disposition of the people, but prepared to rise in formidable activity, whenever the successes of the enemy should enable them to declare themselves.

Well acquainted with all her difficulties, the French Government hastened to take advantage of them. Through the summer and autumn of 1796, a powerful fleet was equipped at Brest, to land an army on the shores of Ireland; after accomplishing which, a squadron of eight sail of the line was to be detached to India, where its support would probably encourage the hostile states to an immediate and general war. Its prospects were the more promising, as the armies of two of the native princes were officered by Frenchmen. As for Ireland, that was regarded as a country of which they had only to take possession; and the well-known feeling of a considerable part of the inhabitants warranted the most sanguine hopes of the invader.

The history of Ireland affords a melancholy, but most instructive lesson, pre-eminent as that unhappy country has been, at once for natural and political advantages, and for misery, turbulence, and crime. A Government, to command the obedience of the people by its firmness, and their confidence by a marked consideration for their feelings and welfare; a gentry, united with them as their leaders, protectors, and friends; and a Church, winning them to a purer faith by the unobtrusive display of benefits and excellences: all these blessings might have been its own. But by fatal mismanagement, the gentry, those of them who remained, were viewed as the garrison of a conquered country by the multitude, who were taught to feel themselves a degraded caste. The Church became identified in their minds with all that they most complained of; and the faith for which they suffered was doubly endeared to them. Thus the instruments for their deliverance confirmed their thraldom, and what should have won affection aggravated their enmity.

If there were a mistake beyond all this, it was that of expecting peace from concessions extorted by violence, and calculated only to give increased power to the enemies of existing institutions. Lord Exmouth held a very decided opinion upon this point, and foresaw that strong coercive measures would become necessary in consequence. He well knew how feeble would be the restraint imposed by any conditions contemplated by the advocates of change; and in allusion to the remark of the Duke of Northumberland, who had expressed a belief that he would think differently, when he saw the securities which would accompany the concessions—"Securities!" he said, "it is all nonsense! I never yet could see them, and I never shall." He justly anticipated, that as long as anything remained to be extorted, new demands would be founded upon every new concession. "How would you like," he said to one of his officers, "to see Roman Catholic chaplains on board our ships of war?" While the question was in progress, he wrote with prophetic truth—"The times are awful, when the choice of two evils only is left, a threatened rebellion, or the surrender of our constitution, by the admission of Catholics into Parliament and all offices. I think even this will not satisfy Ireland. Ascendancy is their object. You may postpone, and by loss of character parry the evil for a short space; but not long, depend upon it. You and I may not see it, but our children will, and be obliged to meet the struggle man to man, which we may now shirk. By God alone can we be saved from such consequences; may He shed his power and grace upon us as a nation!"

The political being everywhere dependent on the religious creed, a country where popish superstitions prevail will always contain two parties hostile upon principle to a free and constitutional government. The multitude, who have surrendered the right of private judgment upon the most engrossing subject, lose the disposition to exercise it upon matters of inferior importance; and become dangerous instruments in the hands of designing characters. A party will be found among them, whose penetration can detect the mummeries of imposture, but not perceive the claims of religion; and who, as they throw off allegiance to God, revolt at any exercise of human authority. Political privileges, the strength of a nation, where the intelligence and morals of the people support the law, will in such a country give power to rebellion, and impunity to crime. A government paternal in vigour as in kindness; the control of a firm authority, supreme over all influence, to maintain order, to leave no excuse for party, to protect the peaceable, promptly to suppress all resistance to the law, and to give to the demagogue only the alternative between obedience and rebellion, will be required not more for the safety of the state, than for the welfare of the misguided people.

When the progress of the French revolution engaged the attention of Europe, there was no country where it was regarded with greater interest than in Ireland. The Papists hoped from it the opportunity to overthrow Protestant supremacy: the Liberals hailed the triumph of their own principles. Emissaries were sent to France, who represented that nothing was wanting to secure the independence of Ireland but a regular army for a rallying point; and France, hoping to give a fatal blow to her most formidable enemy, and to gain a valuable province for herself, readily promised the aid required, and as soon as her own distracted condition would allow, hastened to fulfil her engagement.

The auxiliary force which the rebel delegates deemed sufficient, was fifteen thousand men; but an army of at least eighteen thousand was provided, commanded by that determined republican and distinguished officer, General Hoche, who had very recently succeeded in suppressing the revolt in La Vendee. Vice Admiral Villaret Joyeuse, defeated by Lord Howe on the 1st of June, was selected to command the fleet; but, a misunderstanding having arisen between him and the General, he was superseded by Vice-Admiral Morard de Galles.

The Minister of Marine, M. Truguet, whose able arrangements seemed to have anticipated and provided for every difficulty, had intended that the descent should be made in October, or at latest by the beginning of November; but the General having preferred to embark the whole army at once, it was delayed for the arrival of Rear-Admirals Pachery and Villeneuve; of whom the first, with seven sail of the line and three frigates, was waiting for an opportunity to come up from Rochefort, and the other was expected with five sail of the line from Toulon. The secret of the enemy's intentions was so well kept, that England had to conjecture the destination of the armament, and it was doubted to the last whether its object was Ireland, Portugal, or Gibraltar. In this uncertainty, a principal division of the Channel fleet, under Lord Bridport, remained at Spithead: Sir Roger Curtis, with a smaller force, cruised to the westward; and Vice-Admiral Sir John Colpoys was stationed off Brest, at first with ten, but afterwards with thirteen sail of the line. Sir Edward Pellew, with a small force of frigates, latterly watched the harbour.

About the middle of November, Sir R. Curtis returned to port, and soon after, M. Richery sailed from Rochefort, and entered Brest on the 11th of December. Sir E. Pellew, who had necessarily retired on his approach, immediately sent off two frigates with despatches, the Amazon to England, and the Phoebe to Sir J. Colpoys. On the 15th, he stood in with the Indefatigable, and though chased by a seventy-four and five frigates, stationed in Bertheaume Bay, he persisted in watching the port as usual. In the afternoon, he saw the French fleet leave the road of Brest, and immediately sent back the Phoebe to report the fact to the Admiral. The enemy anchored between Camaret and Bertheaume Bays, in front of the goulet, or entrance into Brest road.

Knowing how much depended on his vigilance, Sir Edward had watched Brest with the most anxious attention. The wind blew generally from the eastward, at times so strong, that the line-of-battle-ships would be under a close-reefed maintop-sail and reefed foresail; and the weather was intensely cold: yet he went every morning to the mast-head, where he would remain making his observations for a considerable part of the day, one of the older midshipmen being usually with him. "Well I remember," writes one of his officers, "that on being one day relieved to go down to my dinner, I was obliged to have some of the main-top-men to help me down the rigging, I was so benumbed with the intense cold: yet the captain was there six or seven hours at a time, without complaining, or taking any refreshment."

On the 16th, the wind being from the eastward, the French fleet, forty-four ships, of which seventeen were of the line and thirteen frigates, got finally under way, not waiting the arrival of Villeneuve. The Admiral purposed leaving Brest by the southern entrance, the Passage du Raz, between the Bec du Raz and the Saintes. By taking this course, and by so timing his departure as to clear the land just at nightfall, he hoped to elude the vigilance of the British fleet off Ushant, whose usual cruising ground was not more than six or seven leagues to leeward. But through the delays inseparable from getting a large and encumbered fleet to sea, it was four o'clock before all the ships were under sail; and as night was fast closing in, and the wind becoming variable, the Admiral determined not to attempt the narrow and dangerous passage he had fixed on, but to steer for the open entrance in front of the harbour, the Passage d'Iroise. Accordingly, he altered his own course, and made signal for the fleet to follow; but neither was generally observed, and the greater part of the ships, as previously directed, entered the Passage du Raz. The Admiral, therefore, sent a corvette into the midst of them, to call their attention to his own ship, which continued to fire guns, and display lights to mark the change in her course. By this time, it was quite dark, and many circumstances increased the enemy's confusion. The Seduisant, seventy-four, ran on the Grand Stevenet, a rock at the entrance of the Passage du Raz, where she was totally lost that night, with nearly seven hundred of her people. Her guns, and other signals, prevented those of the corvette from being attended to; and the Indefatigable, which kept close to the French Admiral, made his signals unintelligible to the fleet.

Sir E. Pellew had stood in that morning with the Indefatigable and Revolutionaire, and at noon came in sight of the enemy. At a quarter before five, when they had all got underway, he sent off Captain Cole to the Admiral, and remained with his own ship to observe and embarrass their movements. With a boldness which must have astonished them, accustomed though they had been to the daring manner in which he had watched their port; under easy sail, but with studding-sails ready for a start, if necessary, he kept as close as possible to the French Admiral, often within half-gun-shot; and as that officer made signals to his fleet, he falsified them by additional guns, lights, and rockets. At half-past eight, when the French ships were observed coming round the Saintes, he made sail to the north-west, with a light at each mast-head, constantly making signals for Sir J. Colpoys, by firing a gun every quarter of an hour, throwing up rockets, and burning blue lights. At midnight, having received no answer, he tacked, and stood to the southward until six o'clock. Still seeing nothing of the Admiral, though he had sailed over all his cruising ground, he sent off the Duke of York, hired armed lugger, to England, with despatches, intending to remain with the Indefatigable, and take part in the expected battle. But reflecting on the importance of conveying the information quickly to England, with the uncertainty of its being carried safely by so small a vessel; and assured that the Revolutionaire, which he had again spoke that morning, would not fail to meet Sir J. Colpoys, he gave up the hope of distinction to a sense of duty, and made sail for Falmouth. He arrived late in the evening of the 20th.

If Lord Bridport had been waiting at Falmouth, with discretional powers, Sir Edward having been instructed to communicate directly with him, he might have sailed early on the 21st, and found the enemy in Bantry Bay, where, perhaps, not a ship would have escaped him. It is, however, to be remembered, that as the destination of the French armament was unknown to the last, the Admiralty might very properly determine that he should receive his final instructions from themselves, and therefore would keep the fleet at Spithead for the convenience of ready communication.

On the 25th, Lord Bridport attempted to sail. The enemy had arrived four days before, and if the weather had allowed the troops to land, the most complete naval victory would have been too late to save the country. The fleet was prevented from putting to sea on that day by a succession of accidents, by which five of the heaviest ships were disabled before they could leave the harbour. The Prime missed stays, and fell on board the Sans Pareil. The Formidable ran foul of the Ville de Paris; and the Atlas grounded. Four of these were three-deckers, and the other was one of the finest 80-gun ships in the service. When at length part of the fleet reached St. Helen's, a shift of wind kept the rest at Spithead; and the Admiral could not put to sea till January 3rd. The baffled enemy was then returning, and seven of his ships had actually arrived in Brest two days before the British sailed from Portsmouth to pursue them.

How Sir J. Colpoys missed the enemy may appear extraordinary. The explanation, which every circumstance tends to confirm, is, that he was restrained from attacking them by his instructions, his force being intended only for a squadron of observation: for though the enemy's fleet, as it actually sailed, would have given him an easy victory, there was always reason to believe that it was much too strong for his force. Exclusive of the five sail which were hourly expected from Toulon, there were twenty-four line-of-battle ships in Brest, and there was no reason to conclude but that the greater part, if not the whole of them, were to sail with the expedition. As the British would be so much outnumbered, Sir E. Pellew offered, in the event of a battle, to take a place in the line with the Indefatigable. The Admiral thanked him, but declined the offer, believing that the enemy's superiority was too great to hope for victory. When the enemy put to sea, the British fleet was eight or nine leagues to the westward of their usual cruising ground, and thus was missed, not only by the Indefatigable, but also by the Revolutionaire, which did not join with the information till the 19th. Next day, the Toulon ships were seen, and chased into port; and the Admiral, having no means of learning the course of the Brest fleet, and some of his own ships being obliged to part company, in consequence of injuries they had sustained in a gale, bore away with the remainder for Spithead.

Meantime, almost everything favoured the enemy. The two divisions of his fleet, which were separated on the evening of the 16th, by putting to sea through different passages, rejoined on the 19th, and reached their destination early on the 21st, without having met a single British cruiser. When they appeared off the Bay, a number of pilot-boats came out, supposing them to be a British fleet; and thus the French Admiral obtained pilots for his ships, and gained all the information he wanted of the British men-of-war on the coast. A line-of-battle ship and three frigates were still missing. Their absence would not have materially weakened the enemy, whose force still exceeded what the rebel delegates had required; but the two commanders had embarked in one of the missing frigates, the FraternitÉ; and Rear-Admiral Bouvet and General Grouchy, the seconds in command, could scarcely act with decision while their chiefs were hourly expected.

The FraternitÉ, with the other three ships in company, was very near the fleet on the 20th, but it was concealed from her by a fog; and a gale which dispersed the fog, separated her from her consorts. Proceeding alone to the Bay, she had nearly reached it on the 21st, when she fell in with a British frigate, which she mistook for one of her own fleet till she was almost within gun-shot. Night saved her from capture, but the chase had carried her far to the westward, and it was eight days before she obtained a fair wind to return.

The ships continued beating up to Bearhaven against a fresh easterly breeze until the evening of the 22nd, when the Rear-Admiral anchored off the eastern extremity of Great Bear Island, with eight sail of the line, two frigates, and some smaller vessels. Seven sail of the line, and eight frigates, kept under sail; and the wind rising in the night blew them all off to sea.

It blew hard, with a heavy sea, through the next day and night. On the 24th, the weather having moderated, it was determined in a council of war to land the remaining troops immediately, and General Grouchy made a formal requisition for that purpose. A suitable landing-place was found, and the necessary preparations were completed; but it was now late in the afternoon, and the landing was necessarily deferred until morning. That night, the gale rose from the eastward, and increased through the next day to a tempest. At length the ships began to drive from their anchors. The Indomptable, 80, ran foul of the Resolve frigate, and totally dismasted her. The other frigate, the ImmortalitÉ, in which Rear-admiral Bouvet had embarked, though his proper flag-ship was the Droits de l'Homme, parted one of her cables in the evening, and was obliged to cut the other, and run out to sea. The weather would not allow her to return until the 29th, and then the Rear-Admiral, hopeless of re-assembling the fleet, decided to proceed to Brest.

Others were less fortunate. The Tortue frigate, two corvettes, and four transports, were taken. The Surveillante frigate was wrecked, and a transport foundered in the bay; and a third frigate, l'Impatiente, was driven on shore near Crookhaven. The sailors determined to secure for themselves alone the means of escape, leaving the troops to their fate. Where such a feeling could exist, the discipline required for their own safety was not likely to be found: and all perished but seven, who were saved chiefly by the exertions of the people on shore.

Part of the fleet, after having been blown out of the bay, steered for the Shannon, which had been fixed on as a rendezvous in the event of separation; but they were too few to attempt a landing, and after waiting for a short time in hope of reinforcements, they found it necessary to return.

The FraternitÉ, with the two commanders-in-chief, continued to beat against an easterly gale till the 29th, when the wind became fair for the bay. Standing towards it, she fell in with the Scerola, rasÉ, in a sinking state, with the Revolution, 74, engaged in taking out the people. She assisted to save them, and the two ships continued their course towards Ireland, hoping to fall in with so many of the fleet as might still enable them to make a descent. But next day, not having seen any of them, and their provisions becoming short, they steered for France. On the 8th of January, they were very near eleven of their ships, which they would presently have joined, but that they altered their course to avoid two British frigates, the Unicorn and Doris, which at the time were actually being chased by the French. Next day they again fell in with the frigates, and on the morning of the 10th they were chased by Lord Bridport's fleet, from which they narrowly escaped. On the 14th they entered Rochefort, the last of the returning ships.

Such was the fate of an expedition, in which nothing was neglected which foresight could suggest, and nothing wanting which ability could supply; whose fortune attended it until success might be deemed secure, and whose defeat was attended with circumstances too extraordinary to be referred to common causes. History records no event, not attended by direct miracle, in which God's providence is more strikingly displayed. The forces of atheism and popery had joined to overthrow a nation, the stronghold of Christian truth, and the bulwark of Protestant Europe. In this, so emphatically a holy war, no earthly arm was allowed to achieve the triumph. Human agency was put aside, and all human defences prostrated; and then, when the unresisted invader touched the object of his hope, the elements were commissioned against him. That the vigilance of a blockading force should be so eluded, and that unusual misfortunes should prevent a fleet from sailing till nothing remained for it to do; that the enemy's two commanders should be separated from their force when it sailed, and afterwards prevented, by so many well-timed casualties, from rejoining it; that when the fleet had actually arrived in the destined port, half should be blown out to sea again before they could anchor, and the rest driven from their anchors before they could land the troops; that the returning ships should be prevented from meeting their commanders; and that every disappointment should just anticipate the moment of success;—such a combination of circumstances it were folly and impiety to ascribe to anything less than the hand of God.

A victory would have saved the country, but it would not have afforded such ground for assured confidence in her future trials. This deliverance was a pledge of protection through the terrible struggle of the next twenty years; when, long disappointed in her hopes, and at length deserted by her last ally, England still maintained her good cause with a firmness more honourable to her character than even the unrivalled triumph she achieved. It remains a pledge, that amidst all dangers she may perform her duty as a Christian country, in full reliance upon God's blessing: or, should the greatness of her trials confound all human resources, that she may wait, in quietness and confidence, for God's deliverance.

It was Sir Edward Pellew's fortune, as he had been prominent in the services connected with the sailing of this armament, to mark the return of it by a battle, the only one fought, and equally singular in its circumstances, and appalling in its result. He put to sea with the Indefatigable and Amazon on the 22nd, and supposing the enemy to have gone to the southward, cruised off Capes Ortugal and Finisterre until the 11th of January. On the 2nd, the Amazon carried away her main-topmast, and on the 11th, the Indefatigable sprung her main-topmast and topsail-yard in a squall, and was obliged to shift them. Returning towards the Channel, on the 13th of January, at a little past noon, the ships being about fifty leagues south-west of Ushant, and the wind blowing hard from the westward, with thick weather, a sail was discovered in the north-west. Sail was made in chase, and by four o'clock the stranger, at first supposed to be a frigate, as she had no poop, was clearly made out to be a French two-decker.

The enemy's ship, the Droits de l'Homme, commanded by Commodore, ci-devant Baron Lacrosse, was one of those which had proceeded to the Shannon, after having been blown out of Bantry Bay. She was the flag-ship of Rear-Admiral Bouvet, but this officer, according to a frequent practice of French admirals, had embarked in a frigate. General Humbert, who commanded one of the expeditions to Ireland in 1798, had taken his passage in her. That morning she had arrived within twenty-five leagues of Belleisle, and as the weather appeared threatening, she stood to the southward, fearing to approach nearer to the shore. Early in the afternoon she saw two large ships at a short distance to windward, probably the Revolution and FraternitÉ, but not waiting to ascertain their character, she made sail from them to the south-east. At half-past three she first discovered on her lee-bow the two frigates, which had observed her three hours before, and were steering a course nearly parallel to her own, to cut her off from the land.

The wind had now increased to a gale, and the sea was fast rising. At half-past four the enemy carried away her fore and main-topmasts in a heavy squall. At three-quarters past five the Indefatigable came up with her, and having shortened sail to close-reefed topsails, poured in a broadside as she crossed her stern. The enemy returned it from some of the upper-deck guns, and by showers of musketry from the troops, of whom there were nearly a thousand on board. So close were the ships, that some of the Indefatigable's people tore away the enemy's ensign, which became entangled in the mizen rigging. The Indefatigable then tried to pass ahead and gain a position on the enemy's bow, but the line-of-battle ship avoided this, and attempted, but without success, to lay the frigate on board, actually grazing the Indefatigable's spanker-boom.

The British frigate engaged the line-of-battle ship single-handed for more than an hour, before her consort, which was several miles astern when the action commenced, could get up to assist her. At length, reaching the enemy, the Amazon poured a broadside into her quarter, and then, with the Commodore, maintained the engagement until about half-past seven, when the Indefatigable found it necessary to repair her rigging, and both frigates shot ahead.

At a little past eight, the frigates renewed the action, and placing themselves one on either bow of the Droits de l'Homme, raked her alternately. The seventy-four brought her guns to bear upon one or the other of her antagonists as well as she could, and occasionally attempted, but without success, to close. At half-past ten, her mizenmast was shot away, when the frigates changed their position, and attacked her on either quarter. Soon after she began to fire shells. The gale continued all night, with a very heavy sea, and the violent motion of the ships made the labour of the crews most excessive. On the main-deck of the Indefatigable, the men were often to the middle in water. Some of her guns broke their breechings four times; others drew the ring-bolts, and from some, the charge was obliged to be drawn after loading, in consequence of the water beating into them. But under these most trying circumstances, the crew did their duty nobly. The Amazon, being a smaller ship, experienced still greater difficulties than the Indefatigable. She emulated her consort most gallantly, and suffered a greater loss. Her masts and rigging were very much damaged; her mizen-top-mast, gaff, spanker-boom, and main-topsail-yard being entirely shot away; the main and foremast, and the fore and main yards wounded in several places by large shot; many of her shrouds, stays, and back-stays shot away, besides those which had been knotted and stoppered in the action; all her spare cordage was expended in reeving running rigging, and she had three feet water in the hold. The loss of men in both ships was remarkably small. The Amazon had three killed, and fifteen badly wounded; and the Indefatigable, though she had so long fought the seventy-four single-handed, had only her first lieutenant and eighteen men wounded; twelve of them slightly, and the two worst cases from accidents. The lower-deck guns of the enemy were nearer the water than is usual in line of-battle ships, and in consequence of the heavy sea, she could use them only occasionally. From this cause, as well as from the excellent positions maintained by the frigates, and her crippled state through the latter part of the action, she could make but a very unequal return to their fire. She suffered very much. More than a hundred of her people were killed—a severe loss, yet small compared to what it must have been, from the crowded state of her decks, and the unprecedented length of the action, if the darkness, the heavy gale, and the consequent motion of the ships, had not made the firing slow, and the aim uncertain.

It was nearly eleven hours from the commencement of the action, when Lieutenant Bell, who was quartered on the forecastle, and who had kept the ship's reckoning through the night, satisfied himself that they were near the French coast, and ordered one or two sailors to keep a good look-out. One of these men thought he saw land, and reported it to his officer; who, perceiving it distinctly, went aft, and told the captain. Immediately the tacks were hauled on board, and the Indefatigable stood to the southward, after making the night-signal of danger to the Amazon, which, with equal promptitude, wore to the northward. The enemy, who did not yet see the danger, thought they had beaten off the frigates, and poured a broadside into the Indefatigable, the most destructive she had yet received. Seven shot struck her hull, the three lower-masts were wounded, and the larboard main-topmast shrouds were all cut away close to the seizings of the eyes at the mast head. It required extraordinary activity and coolness to save the topmast, the loss of which, at that time, would have made that of the ship inevitable. Under the direction of Mr. Gaze, who immediately sprang aloft, the captain of the main-top cut away the top gallant-yard; while Mr. Thompson, acting master, got up the end of a hawser, which he clinched around the mast-head. Thus they saved the main-topmast, and probably prevented the mainmast itself from being sprung. Mr. Gaze, who received a master's warrant a few weeks after, continued with Lord Exmouth to the last day of his command. He was master of the fleet in the Mediterranean, and it was he who carried the Queen Charlotte in such admirable style to her position at Algiers.

None at this time knew how desperate was their situation. The ships were in the Bay of Audierne, close in with the surf, with the wind blowing a heavy gale dead on the shore, and a tremendous sea rolling in. To beat off the land would have been a difficult and doubtful undertaking for the best and most perfect ship. The Indefatigable had four feet water in the hold, and her safety depended on her wounded spars and damaged rigging bearing the press of sail she was obliged to carry; while the crew, thus summoned to renewed exertion, were already quite worn out with fatigue. The fate of the other ships was certain; for the Amazon had all her principal sails disabled, and the Droits de l'Homme was unmanageable.

The Indefatigable continued standing to the southward, until the captain of the mizen-top gave the alarm of breakers on the lee-bow. The ship was immediately wore in eighteen fathoms, and she stood to the northward till half-past six, when land was again seen close a-head on the weather-bow, with breakers under the lee. Running again to the southward, she passed the Droits de l'Homme lying on her broadside in the surf, at the distance of about a mile, but without the possibility of giving the smallest assistance. Her own situation, indeed, was almost hopeless; and Sir Edward Pellew himself was deeply affected, when, having done all that seamanship could accomplish, he could only commit to a merciful Providence the lives of his gallant crew, all now depending upon one of the many accidents to the masts and rigging which there was so much reason to apprehend. Happily, the sails stood well; the Indefatigable continued to gain by every tack; and at eleven o'clock, with six feet water in her hold, she passed about three-quarters of a mile to windward of the Penmarcks; enabling her officers and men, after a day and night of incessant exertion, at length to rest from their toil, and to bless God for their deliverance.

She had scarcely bent new topsails and foresail, the others having been shot to pieces, when two large ships were seen at some distance a-head, crossing her course, and standing in a direction for L'Orient. One of them was at first supposed to be the Amazon, of which nothing had been seen since the close of the action, and the extent of whose damages was not at all suspected. The other was considered to be a French frigate, and Sir Edward gave orders to make sail in chase. But the officers represented to him, that the crew, entirely exhausted by the unparalleled length of the action, and by their subsequent labours, were quite incapable of further exertion; that their ammunition was very short, scarcely a cartridge filled, and every wad expended. Had the French frigate been alone, this would have been a subject of much regret; for she was the FraternitÉ, with the two commanders-in-chief and all the treasure of the expedition on board; but her consort was the 74-gun ship Revolution.

The Amazon struck the ground about ten minutes after she ceased firing. Her crew displayed the admirable discipline which British seamen are accustomed to maintain under such circumstances; more creditable to them, if possible, than the seamanship which saved the Indefatigable. From half past five until nine o'clock, they were employed in making rafts, and not a man was lost, or attempted to leave the ship, except six, who stole away the cutter from the stern, and were drowned. Captain Reynolds and his officers remained by the ship until they had safely landed, first the wounded, and afterwards every man of the crew. Of course they were made prisoners, but they were treated well, and exchanged not many months after.

Conduct like that of the Amazon's people in their hour of extreme danger—and it is nothing more than British seamen commonly display in the same situation—makes an Englishman proud of his country. Nor should it be forgotten, for it exalts the feeling of patriotism and honest pride, that a man-of-war's crew at that time was made up, in part, of the lowest characters in society. What, then, must be the strength and excellence of that moral feeling in England, which can display itself thus nobly where it would be the least expected! The fact conveys an impressive lesson; for if the intelligence, decision, and kindness, which, with few exceptions, characterize our sea-officers, can effect such happy results where they operate on the most unpromising materials, it is clear, that whatever faults the lower classes in England display must be attributed, in a great degree, to the neglect or misconduct of those, whose station in society, as it gives the power, imposes the duty to guide them.

The fate of the Droits de l'Homme presents an awful contrast indeed to that of the Amazon. She saw the land soon after the frigates hauled off, and after hopeless attempts, first to avoid it, and afterwards to anchor, she struck the ground almost at the same moment as the British frigate. The main-mast went overboard at the second shock: the fore-mast and bowsprit had fallen a few minutes before, in her attempt to keep off the land. When danger was first seen, the crew gave an alarm to the English prisoners below, of whom there were fifty-five, the crew and passengers of a letter-of-marque, which the Droits de l'Homme had taken a few days before: "Poor English, come up quickly; we are all lost!" Presently, the ship struck on a bank of sand, nearly opposite the town of Plouzenec. Cries of dismay were now heard from every part. Signals of distress were fired, and several of the guns hove overboard. Many of the people were soon washed away by the waves, which broke incessantly over her. At daylight the shore was seen covered with spectators, but they could afford no assistance. In the meantime, the stern was beaten in by the sea, and no provisions or water could afterwards be obtained.

At low water an attempt was made to reach the shore, but two boats which were brought alongside drifted away and were dashed to pieces on the rocks. A small raft was constructed to carry a hawser to the shore, by the aid of which it was hoped that preparations might be completed for safely landing the people. A few sailors having embarked on it, the rope was gradually slackened to allow it to drift to land; but some of these people being washed away, the rest became alarmed, cast off the hawser, and saved themselves. After a second unsuccessful attempt with a raft, a petty officer attached a cord to his body and tried to swim on shore; but he was soon exhausted, and would have perished, but that he was hauled back to the ship.

On the second day, at low water, an English captain and eight other prisoners launched a small boat, and landed safely. Their success restored confidence to the multitude, proving, as it did, how easily all might be saved, if proper means were quietly adopted. But discipline and order were wanting; and attempts made without judgment, and without concert, ended in the loss of all who made them.

Perishing with cold, and thirst, and hunger—for the ship, her stern now broken away, no longer afforded shelter from the waves, and they had tasted nothing since she struck—the unhappy crew saw a third day arise upon their miseries. Still the gale continued, and there was no prospect of relief from the shore. It was now determined to construct a large raft, and first to send away the surviving wounded, with the women and children, in a boat which remained. But as soon as she was brought alongside, there was a general rush, and about a hundred and twenty threw themselves into her. Their weight carried down the boat; next moment an enormous wave broke upon them, and when the sea became smoother, their corpses were seen floating all around. An officer, Adjutant General Renier, attempted to swim on shore, hoping that a knowledge of their condition might enable the spectators to devise some means for their deliverance. He plunged into the sea and was lost.

"Already nearly nine hundred had perished," says Lieutenant Pipon, an officer of the 63rd regiment, who was on board a prisoner, and who afterwards published the dreadful story.[7] "when the fourth night came with renewed terrors. Weak, distracted, and wanting everything, we envied the fate of those whose lifeless corpses no longer needed sustenance. The sense of hunger was already lost, but a parching thirst consumed our vitals. Recourse was had to wine and salt water, which only increased the want. Half a hogshead of vinegar floated up, and each had half a wine-glassful. This gave a momentary relief, yet soon left us again in the same state of dreadful thirst. Almost at the last gasp, every one was dying with misery: the ship, which was now one third shattered away from the stern, scarcely afforded a grasp to hold by, to the exhausted and helpless survivors. The fourth day brought with it a more serene sky, and the sea seemed to subside; but to behold, from fore and aft, the dying in all directions, was a sight too shocking for the feeling mind to endure. Almost lost to a sense of humanity, we no longer looked with pity on those who were the speedy fore-runners of our own fate, and a consultation took place to sacrifice some one to be food for the remainder. The die was going to be cast, when the welcome sight of a man-of-war brig renewed our hopes. A cutter speedily followed, and both anchored at a short distance from the wreck. They then sent their boats to us, and by means of large rafts, about a hundred and fifty of near four hundred who attempted it, were saved by the brig that evening. Three hundred and eighty were left to endure another night's misery, when, dreadful to relate, above one-half were found dead next morning."

Commodore Lacrosse, General Humbert, and three British infantry officers, prisoners, remained in the wreck till the fifth morning; and all survived: so great is the influence of moral power to sustain through extreme hardships. The prisoners were treated with the utmost kindness, and in consideration of their sufferings, and the help they had afforded in saving many lives, a cartel was fitted out by order of the French Government to send them home, without ransom or exchange. They arrived at Plymouth on the 7th of March following.

The Admiralty awarded head-money to the frigates for the destruction of the Droits de l'Homme. As there were no means of knowing her complement with certainty, Sir Edward wrote to Commodore Lacrosse to request the information, telling him it was the practice of his Government to award a certain sum for every man belonging to an enemy's armed vessel taken, or destroyed. The Commodore answered, that the Droits de l'Homme had been neither taken nor destroyed, but that the ships had fought like three dogs till they all fell over the cliff together. Her crew, with the troops, he said, was sixteen hundred men.

The gallant captain of the Amazon, one of the earliest and closest friends of Sir Edward Pellew, perished at length by a not less distressing shipwreck. At the end of 1811, being then a rear-admiral, he was returning from the Baltic in the St. George, a ship not calculated to remain so late on such a station. After having received much damage in a former gale, she was wrecked on Christmas-day, as well as the Defence, which attended her to afford assistance; and only eighteen men were saved from the two line-of-battle ships. Rear-Admiral Reynolds and his captain remained at their post till they sunk under the inclemency of a northern winter; when, stretched on the quarter-deck, and hand in hand, they were frozen to death together.