THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN FAULKNOR
On the morning of the 24th the French garrison marched out of Fort Bourbon. They were granted the honours of war, to make their exit with flags flying, bayonets fixed, drums beating, 30 rounds a man, and 2 field-pieces each with 12 rounds, and march down—between a double line of British seamen and soldiers—to the place of embarkation. They laid down their arms on the parade of Fort Royal, and filed on board the transports that had brought the British troops out, to set sail for France next day. The Island of Martinique was signed away from France with the capitulation of Fort Bourbon.
One last word must be said here of Captain Faulknor. He did not live to enjoy the benefits of his promotion long. Within ten months he was dead, killed in action, struck down in the performance of a deed of valour equal to anything that has in our own time won the Victoria Cross. In January 1795, when in command of the Blanche, a fine 32-gun frigate, to which he had been transferred, and while still in the West Indies, he fell in with a big French 36-gun frigate, the Pique, brought her to close action, and fought her for five hours, from midnight until five A.M., when the French ship surrendered. Captain Faulknor was shot dead, with a bullet through the heart, in the third hour of the fight, while in the act of lashing the Pique's bowsprit to the capstan of his own ship. He died, mourned by the whole country as a national loss, as the monument to him erected by order of Parliament in St. Paul's Cathedral testifies to this day.
Not once or twice in our rough island story
The path of duty was the way to glory.
Since Faulknor's Undaunted, five British men-of-war have borne the name, and in every instance with distinction. Three of them may be referred to here. One Undaunted—the Undaunted of the Napoleonic war—crowned a career of exceptional brilliancy—a career that is one continuous record of daring exploits, which indeed won for her captain the sobriquet, taken from the name of his ship, of 'Undaunted Ussher'—by carrying Napoleon a prisoner of war to Elba. This same ship was later the last man-of-war to fly the flag of a Lord High Admiral of England at sea.[66] Another, in more recent times, as flagship on the East Indies station, had the honour of escorting his present Majesty King Edward, then Prince of Wales, through the Indian Ocean on his historic visit to India. Yet another Undaunted, our present cruiser of the name, was Lord Charles Beresford's first ship as a captain of the Royal Navy—with the Mediterranean fleet under Sir George Tryon,—and proved herself during a memorable commission nulli secundus for smartness and efficiency, in the spirit of her well-remembered duty call:—
'Undaunteds,' be ready!
'Undaunteds,' be steady!
'Undaunteds,' stand by for a job!
