Time went on, and the balance was not redressed. Persons outside the Post-Office began to notice which way it inclined, and ugly rumours were already circulating when an unparalleled series of disasters riveted the attention of the authorities on this point which at first seemed so insignificant.

The “Princess Royal,” whose officers and crew had fought so bravely in June, 1798, was the first Packet reported lost. Her gallant captain had been promoted to a command on the Holyhead station, which was both more lucrative and less arduous than the post in which he had won distinction. How far Captain Skinner might have succeeded in repulsing the “Courier” Privateer, to which the “Princess Royal” struck her colours on February 27th, being then on her homeward voyage from the Leeward Islands, it would be profitless to inquire. Ten days later the “Carteret,” homeward bound from Jamaica, hauled down her colours to the “Bellona,” a powerful Privateer of thirty guns and two hundred and fifty men. The “Jane,” the outward Packet of March 2nd for the West Indies, was captured, after a sharp engagement, on the 12th of that month; and though she was recaptured a few days later by an English cruiser, that event happened too late to save her mails. On May 4th the “Princess Charlotte” was captured; on May 6th the “Marquis of Kildare” succumbed; on May 11th the “Princess Amelia” was seized by a Bordeaux Privateer; and, after an interval of some months, the “Duke of Clarence” was sent into Teneriffe as the prize of a Spanish Privateer.

Every one of the four last Packets was homeward bound. The coincidence was too obvious to be overlooked.

Another fact about these captures must have arrested Lord Auckland’s attention. There was hardly any fighting. Why was there not? The capturing Privateers were, it is true, of overmastering force in many cases, if not in all. But the “Antelope,” the “Portland,” and the “Princess Royal” had successfully resisted superior forces; and when was it ever imputed to English sailors that they feared to defend themselves against an enemy because they could not bring into action man for man, or gun for gun? On this very Falmouth station, in past years, numberless actions had been fought as bravely as any in our annals; and these glories were by no means eclipsed for ever, but were in a few years to shine again with no less splendour than before, though Lord Auckland had not the satisfaction of foreseeing this.

It is not asserted that every Packet whose capture is mentioned in these pages was surrendered without firing a shot; but it is certainly true that in hardly one case did any serious fighting occur. The very sailors who were captured were not devoid of spirit, as appeared in the case of the “Marquis of Kildare,” whose loss was mentioned above. The greater part of the crew of this Packet remained prisoners on board the Privateer, but twelve were left on their own ship, in charge of a prize crew. In the night these twelve rose upon their captors, drove them into the hold, and triumphantly navigated the Packet into Falmouth. They were doubtless commended, and perhaps rewarded, on arriving there; but it may be hoped that the agent took occasion to point out to them how much more serviceable their valour would have been had they proved it before their ship was captured and their mails lost.

Nobody believed the Falmouth sailors to be cowards. Indubitable facts and the long experience of the past showed that they were not. The root of the mischief must be sought deeper than that.

Wherever it might lie, there was clearly no time to lose in searching for it. The complaints of the merchants were incessant; and when Mr. Henry Dundas, at that time Secretary of State for the Colonies, went so far as to instruct the general officer in command in the West Indies to send home duplicate and triplicate copies of his despatches by well-armed merchant vessels, “which appear to have a better chance of safe arrival than the regular Packets,” and forwarded a copy of this galling letter to the Postmaster General, no one could any longer doubt that unless some quick and searching remedy could be found, the Post-Office might almost as well lay down the pretence of conveying the mails in safety. Lord Auckland frankly owned that Mr. Dundas’ letter had not surprised him. Long before matters reached this point, he had inquired what evidence was taken that the capture of any particular Packet had occurred in the manner described by her officers. He was told that of evidence, properly so called, there was none at all, except the sworn statement of the captain, made before a notary selected by himself.

An officer of the navy who lost his ship, Lord Auckland observed, was invariably brought to court-martial. A number of honourable and experienced officers were appointed to judge his conduct; he was called before them, and required to prove on oath, and by the evidence of witnesses, that his courage and skill had been properly exerted.

A Packet captain in the same situation was summoned before no court at all. He went, in company with one or two of his chief officers, to a notary in Falmouth, and before that gentleman executed a sworn statement, technically called a “protest.” In form, this document “protested” against the conduct of the enemy which had captured, or injured, the Packet. It detailed just so much, or so little, of the facts as the captain thought proper to relate; and the notary had no other responsibility in the matter than the administration of an oath.

This was the whole proceeding. When the “protest” reached the General Post-Office, it was accepted as a matter of course; and on it steps were taken for repaying to the commander the amount of his loss.