“‘“Sit down, Mr. Culmer,” said the second Commissioner, “and calm yourself. We shall leave you a short time. Probably we may ask you a few more questions.”
“‘“Hem!” muttered Billy, and he scratched his head. After an interval of half an hour, the Commissioner who had been his former messmate, entered with his certificate.
“‘“I have much pleasure,” said he, “in having the power to present you your passing certificate, and I hope your speedy promotion will follow. Do you stay long in London?”
“‘“Only to have a cruise in Wapping and to see St. Paul’s and the Monument,” returned Billy, “and then I shall make all sail for Portsmouth.”
“‘“Have you any shot in your locker?” asked Captain T. “As much as will serve this turn,” replied Billy, “for Lord Hood has sent me an order for ten pounds on his banker.” “Good afternoon, Culmer,” said the former. “I wish you your health.” “Thank you,” replied Billy; “the same to you; but give me more sea-room next time you examine me, and do not let me tail on the Hoe.”’ Billy, through the interest of Lord Hood, was [pg 288]quickly installed lieutenant, but died shortly afterwards.”
“Well,” said the admiral’s lady, “I think, Captain M., had I known this Billy Culmer, as you call him, I certainly should have made a pet of him.”
“I am afraid, my dear,” answered the Admiral, who appeared relieved now the story was at an end, “you would have found him very pettish.” The admiral’s play on the word produced a smile.
A young captain who sat near Lady Campbell asked her if she had ever heard of a captain who was, in consequence of his extravagant behaviour, called “Mad Montague?” “Pray, my dear,” cried the Admiral, who appeared terrified at the idea of another story, “let us have our coffee.”
The hint was sufficient, we sipped our beverage and chasse, and departed in peace.
Being ready for sea we left the Downs, and in a few hours were off our old cruising ground to watch the terrible flotilla and the privateers, which were principally lugger-rigged and carried long guns of different calibres, with from fifty to seventy-five men. Some few had ten or fourteen guns, besides swivels. The vessels forming the flotilla consisted of praams, ship-rigged, and brigs carrying one or two eighteen or twenty-four pounders, and the largest a thirty-two pounder (with sixty or ninety men), all of them flat-bottomed. They sometimes, when the wind blew fresh from the westward, ran down in squadrons close in shore, [pg 289]under the protection of their batteries, to Calais. One Sunday I chased twenty-seven and made the shot tell among some of them, until the pilots warned me that if I stood further in they would give up charge of the ship. I chased them, with the exception of one, who ran aground near Calais, into that port. In hauling off after giving them a few more shot, their battery favoured us with one which struck us between wind and water. As the shells were now falling plentifully around us, I thought it prudent to make more sail, as one of the shells had gone through the foretop-sail. Our force generally consisted of three sloops of war to watch Boulogne, the senior officer being the commodore, but in spite of all our vigilance the privateers crept along shore under cover of the night without being seen, and they sometimes tantalized us by anchoring outside, but so close in and under their batteries that it was impossible to get at them in that position. We, one morning at daybreak, captured a row-boat with twenty-two men, armed with swivels and muskets. We had disguised the ship so much that she took us for a merchantman, and before she discovered her mistake was within pistol-shot. Three months had now expired, which had been passed much in the same manner as the last cruise, when a cutter came out to order us into the Downs.