The Loss of the Royal George | Page 6

with a strong squadron for Brest, to look after a French fleet
which had just left that port, conveying a large number of merchantmen
bound for the East and West Indies. On the 12th of December we had
the good fortune to discover the enemy's fleet about thirty-five leagues
to the westward of Ushant, we being a long way to leeward of the

convoy. I heard the admiral talking to the captain.
"We will cut off the merchantmen first, and fight the enemy
afterwards," says he.
What he had determined on he was the man to carry out, and before
evening we had picked up twenty merchantmen, laden with provisions
and naval and military stores, two or three regiments of soldiers, and a
large number of seamen. The Royal George had to heave-to for the rest
of the squadron, which was a long way astern.
Next morning the French fleet was increased by a number of other
ships appearing to leeward. The admiral was a prudent as well as a
brave man, and considered that it would be wiser not to engage them,
and so with our prizes we sailed back to Portsmouth. I could almost see
my cottage from the maintop, but I could not get leave to go on shore;
and as to having Susan off to see me, that I would not think of, for she
would have had to see and hear things such as I did not wish my wife to
witness. We again sailed for a cruise down Channel, and, after putting
into Torbay, once more returned to Portsmouth. Admiral Kempenfelt,
we had heard, had been appointed to the command of the fleet in the
Mediterranean, and we expected to sail again in a week or less. This
was in August 1782. Lord Howe's fleet was also lying off Spithead,
among them the Victory, Barfleur, Ocean, and Union, all three-deckers,
close to us, and numerous other men-of-war and merchant vessels;
indeed, the people who came off from Portsmouth declared they could
hardly see the Isle of Wight on account of the masts and spars of the
ships. In consequence of going foreign we had been paid in golden
guineas. As soon as I had received my pay, I got leave to go on shore to
spend a couple of days, to be off again on the evening of the 27th. I had
no difficulty in getting a boat, for there were hundreds pulling
backwards and forwards. I found Susan bright and well, and looking
out for me, for I had written to say I hoped to come. We went up to see
Captain Leslie and the ladies, who had sent word that they wished us to
pay them a visit. They were as kind as ever. The hours went by a great
deal too fast.
A sailor's wife has a hard trial to bear, to have her husband at home for

two or three days, and then away for as many years or more; however, I
hoped to be at home again in less time than that, and so I cheered up
Susan, and promised for her sake to take the best care of myself I could.
She had not given up her notion of taking in a female lodger. We were
standing in the porch of the cottage on the last day, when we saw a
young lady in black, leading a little boy, coming along the road. The
little chap had a sailor's hat and jacket on, though he did not seem much
more than three years old.
"She is some officer's widow," I remarked to Susan as we watched her.
"She seems almost too young to be the mother of that child; she is his
sister, more likely," answered Susan.
The young lady had stopped, and was looking about her; presently she
came on to us.
"Can you tell me if I am likely to find a lodging hereabouts for a few
days?" she asked in a sweet voice; "I have left my luggage at the inn in
the village, but I do not wish to remain there, and I feel very tired with
walking about."
"Will you like to walk in, miss, and rest yourself?" said Susan, "for you
do look tired and ill too."
The young lady's cheek was very pale.
"I shall indeed be thankful if you will let me do so," she answered, and
coming in she sank down in a chair.
Susan got tea ready; it seemed to revive her a little; the child, I
observed, did not call her mother; and as I saw no wedding ring on her
finger, I began to think that Susan was right about her not being the
child's mother. Susan was evidently taken with the young lady, and,
calling me out,