Strange as it may seem to us, the _Temeraire's_ name at that moment had for most people an unpleasant ring about it. The shadow of a terrible tragedy rested just then over the name _Temeraire_. The public had not yet got over the shock with which, barely two years before, the whole country had learnt that the crew of one of the flagships of the Channel Fleet, while lying in Bantry Bay, had mutinied, and offered violence to their Admiral and officers, using ugly threats and proposing to point guns loaded with grape-shot to sweep the quarter-deck. Nor had people forgotten the grim sequel, the relentless severity of the retribution that fell on the ringleaders; how eleven of the _Temeraire's_ men had been hanged at the yard-arm, two flogged through the fleet at Spithead, receiving two hundred lashes each, seven sent to the hulks for life. The newspapers had been full of the terrible story, as related day by day in the evidence at the two courts-martial that sat at Portsmouth to try the mutineers. The trial lasted five days, and the report of it in the _Times_ of the 13th of January 1802 took up the whole paper, all but two columns. Nor had the following paragraph which appeared in the _Naval Chronicle_, done any good to the _Temeraire's_ reputation:--'Plymouth, October 7th, 1802; The seamen of the _Temeraire_ of 98-guns, Rear-Admiral Campbell, paid off, put on crape hat-bands round their straw hats in memory of the mutineers in that ship who were executed for the mutiny in Bantry Bay last year.' That unhappy episode in the ship's story was, however, as far as the _Temeraire_ herself was concerned, now past and done with. Now the _Temeraire_ had a new ship's company throughout; captain, officers, and men, with a future of their own before them. Captain Harvey manned his ship to a large extent with Liverpool men, sent round from the Mersey by tender, and sailed from Cawsand Bay on the 11th of March 1804, to join Admiral Cornwallis off Brest.