To losses of this nature, however, of which, in these days, people rarely think, the merchants of a hundred years ago were well accustomed; and on the whole they endured them with exemplary patience. The prevalent ideas of the risks of business were formed on the experience of a century of almost constant war. So far, the losses of Packets had been less numerous than in the last war; and there was, therefore, no great degree of discontent. In July, the “King George,” a Lisbon Packet commanded by Captain Yescombe, was captured. She was about thirty leagues off Ushant, on her homeward voyage from Lisbon, when she fell in with four large French ships standing on the same tack. Captain Yescombe wore ship, and ran to the southwest until he had lost sight of the enemy for an hour or more; but had scarcely resumed his proper course when the four ships came in sight again, followed by four more in the same quarter; and in trying to avoid these squadrons, Captain Yescombe manœuvred himself into the jaws of the French 40–gun ship “Unité”; whereupon he sank the mails and despatches and struck his colours. His experiences as a prisoner in France were rather curious. The “King George” was carried into Brest, and after remaining some time at that port, Captain Yescombe and his crew were sent to Quimper. It would appear from his letters that the English sailors confined in the naval prison of that town suffered great hardships, and that within nine weeks of his arrival no less than three hundred out of the whole number died miserably for want of proper food. From the risk of sharing their fate Captain Yescombe was delivered by a singular piece of good fortune. A lady residing near the prison, who happened to be related to the Commissary in charge of the prisoners, became aware of his forlorn condition, and obtained permission for him to lodge at her house. This arrangement continued for several months, when Captain Yescombe managed to escape, being, as he always maintained, not on parole at the time. He made his way to Brest, where he remained concealed for several weeks; and during this time he witnessed the sailing of the great fleet, which got out of Brest on the 31st December, 1794, under the command of Villaret Joyeuse; and gathered details concerning its composition and equipment which afterwards proved of service to the British Government. Towards the end of January he managed to obtain a passage across the Channel, and landed at Plymouth, greatly broken in health by the hardships he had undergone.