In James’ Naval History (vol. i., p. 111), where this action is briefly described, it is stated that the “Atalanta” carried eight 3–pounders, and the “Antelope” six. If this is correct, the “Antelope” had not yet been armed on the new principle described in the preceding pages. She was an old vessel, and it may have been thought wiser to leave her armaments unaltered.
When the circumstances of the action became known, the public enthusiasm rose to a height which seems in the retrospect a little overstrained, but which may certainly be accepted as a proof of the high degree of importance attached to the preservation of the mails. The news, moreover, reached England at a time when no great naval engagement had taken place, and when the success of several single ship actions had whetted the public appetite for glory without satisfying it. There was, too, something in the circumstances which touched the imagination; for it was not every day, even in the years of our greatest sea-fights, that a ship was brought out of action by her boatswain. It was seriously proposed to strike a medal in Pasco’s honour. The Jamaica House of Representatives voted five hundred guineas to be distributed among the crew. The Society for Encouraging the Capture of French Privateers—it was a Committee of Lloyds—granted a substantial sum for the same purpose, in addition to a gold boatswain’s call which they presented to Pasco, who was also rewarded by the Postmaster General with another similar call; while “smart money” and pensions were granted on the highest scale consistent with the regulations.
Even in distributing these rewards the Postmaster General found an opportunity for asserting their new principle. The Secretary’s letter to the agent at Falmouth ran as follows: “But Mr. Pender must let it be thoroughly understood amongst the officers and crews that these rewards are given only in consequence of the particular circumstances attending this glorious action, in which the “Antelope” was first chased from nine o’clock A.M. December 1st to December 2nd, when she was obliged to defend herself against an attack, but did not first attack an enemy. For the Postmaster General by no means intend to depart from the principle which they have been ordered to adopt, of considering it to be the duty of the Packets to outsail the enemy whenever they can, and by no means to fight when it can possibly be avoided.” In such terms the Secretary pointed his moral, perhaps a little incautiously. How his instructions were interpreted will appear hereafter.
Before leaving the subject of the “Antelope’s” action, it must be observed that the newspapers of the time were full of praise of the extraordinary bravery of a certain M. Nodin, a passenger, formerly a midshipman in the French navy. The circumstances, if true, are remarkable enough; but there is still in existence an official copy of a declaration signed by Pasco himself and by the gunner of the “Antelope,” in which the whole story is denied. M. Nodin resented this disparaging deposition, and threatened proceedings against the two petty officers for defaming his character, a suit which the Postmaster General described as “absurd,” and which does not seem to have been proceeded with. It is quite clear that the Post-Office authorities did not believe the story of M. Nodin’s prowess. The matter might not have been worth mentioning had not the tale acquired authority by being set forth by James (Naval History, vol. i., p. 112). The authors and upholders of the new system were, doubtless, cheered and encouraged by this action, which seemed to show that great results might be achieved with even smaller armaments than those recommended for the new Packets. The fact that one of the oldest and worst equipped ships had won this striking success was hailed as a happy augury; and so the old year went out among mutual congratulations and good hope for the future.
The sunshine was of short duration. The storm was rising already. In the first days of January the loss of the “Arab” was reported at the Post-Office. The “Arab” was one of the new Packets, and her capture was a serious misfortune. It appeared that she had been taken by a French frigate, “L’Insurgente,” while on her homeward passage from Corunna on Christmas Eve; and while it was evident that resistance would have been a useless sacrifice of life, there was some disappointment on finding that the “Arab’s” fine sailing qualities had not saved her.
Another disaster was quickly announced, though belonging this time more plainly to the category of accident. The “Princess Augusta,” again one of the new ships, caught fire while lying in the Tagus, and was completely burned. This was a mere piece of bad luck; but so much could not be said of the loss of the “Expedition,” which was carried into Brest, in April, by a French frigate, which she had failed to outsail. The matter was the more serious since not only one mail was lost, but three, the scarcity of Packets having compelled the Post-Office agent at Lisbon to despatch the mails of three successive weeks by a single ship. The precaution commonly taken in those days of sending duplicates of all despatches and important letters by the next mail following that which had carried the originals was thus completely frustrated on this occasion, and the inconvenience to the Government and the mercantile community must have been immense.
To losses of this nature, however, of which, in these days, people rarely think, the merchants of a hundred years ago were well accustomed; and on the whole they endured them with exemplary patience. The prevalent ideas of the risks of business were formed on the experience of a century of almost constant war. So far, the losses of Packets had been less numerous than in the last war; and there was, therefore, no great degree of discontent.
In July, the “King George,” a Lisbon Packet commanded by Captain Yescombe, was captured. She was about thirty leagues off Ushant, on her homeward voyage from Lisbon, when she fell in with four large French ships standing on the same tack. Captain Yescombe wore ship, and ran to the southwest until he had lost sight of the enemy for an hour or more; but had scarcely resumed his proper course when the four ships came in sight again, followed by four more in the same quarter; and in trying to avoid these squadrons, Captain Yescombe manœuvred himself into the jaws of the French 40–gun ship “Unité”; whereupon he sank the mails and despatches and struck his colours.
His experiences as a prisoner in France were rather curious. The “King George” was carried into Brest, and after remaining some time at that port, Captain Yescombe and his crew were sent to Quimper. It would appear from his letters that the English sailors confined in the naval prison of that town suffered great hardships, and that within nine weeks of his arrival no less than three hundred out of the whole number died miserably for want of proper food. From the risk of sharing their fate Captain Yescombe was delivered by a singular piece of good fortune. A lady residing near the prison, who happened to be related to the Commissary in charge of the prisoners, became aware of his forlorn condition, and obtained permission for him to lodge at her house. This arrangement continued for several months, when Captain Yescombe managed to escape, being, as he always maintained, not on parole at the time. He made his way to Brest, where he remained concealed for several weeks; and during this time he witnessed the sailing of the great fleet, which got out of Brest on the 31st December, 1794, under the command of Villaret Joyeuse; and gathered details concerning its composition and equipment which afterwards proved of service to the British Government. Towards the end of January he managed to obtain a passage across the Channel, and landed at Plymouth, greatly broken in health by the hardships he had undergone.
The romantic circumstances of this escape attracted attention both in England and in France. In the newspapers of the latter country it was indeed freely asserted that Captain Yescombe had broken his parole; and though the Postmaster General accepted their officer’s assurances on this point, yet the charge was so strongly asserted in France, and threats were so publicly made of meting out rigorous treatment to Captain Yescombe if he should again become a prisoner of war, that it was thought more prudent to allow his duties to be discharged by deputy for a time, and the “King George” accordingly sailed under command of her master until peace was declared in 1802.