Sometime before leaving the Texel he had received a complimentary poetic epistle from a young lady at the Hague, who addressed him as King of the Sea. When fairly out upon the German Ocean, with leisure hours, he on the 1st of January, 1780, went into his cabin and wrote a poetic reply. He was not a poet. But it is very doubtful whether Lord Nelson, under the circumstances, could have done as well. As a specimen of his skill in versification I will give the last stanza.
“But since, alas! the rage of war prevails,
And cruel Britons desolate our land,
For freedom still I spread my willing sails,
My unsheathed sword my injured country shall command.
Go on, bright maid; the muses all attend
Genius like thine, and wish to be its friend.
Trust me, although conveyed through this poor shift,
My New Year’s thoughts are grateful for thy gift.”
Commodore Jones was very desirous of not going empty-handed into port. It was not enough for him merely to elude his enemies. He was resolved, if possible, to take some prizes. He therefore ran down the Bay of Biscay and westerly along the coast of Spain, several hundred miles, in a region where it was very certain that the British men-of-war would not be searching for him.