“They fired grape-shot at us, which did much damage to the sails, and broke one of the irons which support the boarding net, and wounded some of our men. Only one was killed in the engagement, a man named Reeves, from Lichfield it is thought, who was a brave and good sailor. He was shot through the thigh and breast, and must have been killed instantaneous, for he did not look agonized. This is the first man I have seen killed. At about twelve o’clock the five gun-boats retired, having had more than they expected; the breeze was still light, and they returned, but we think not all of them, to Tarifa.”[4] Footnote 4: This quotation is made, with the kind permission of the editor of the _Cornhill Magazine_, from an article which appeared therein in May 1887, entitled “From a Diary of 1806.” Now this somewhat rambling account, the narrative of a plain merchant, not much skilled in the use of his pen, telling us exactly what struck him, too manly to be ashamed of owning himself to have been both sea-sick and frightened, yet showing us in his modest way that he was usefully employed in helping those who did the actual fighting, this straightforward, sensible story puts the whole scene before us more clearly than a thousand official reports. Little David running upstairs “singing merry,” not old enough to keep his tears back when the splinter wounded him on the forehead, forms a picture too vivid to be forgotten. Captain Anthony’s hearty laugh when his passenger thought himself shot, helps us to realize the joviality with which our grandfathers went into action, too confident in themselves to trouble their heads about the issue, even when fighting against six enemies at once. The Postmaster General did not think much of this action, ranking it somewhat low among the achievements of the Packets chiefly because it was a running fight. One might have supposed that the sinking of one of the gun-boats, together with the skill in manœuvring exhibited by Captain Anthony in repelling the other five, entitled him to a considerable share of credit. He gained more however for his conduct nearly a year later, namely on July 2nd, 1807. On that date the “Cornwallis” was chased by a lugger about thirty leagues off Brest. The lugger came on under English colours; but Captain Anthony, finding that she made no answer to the private signal, instantly cleared his decks, called his men to their stations, served out cutlasses and pistols, and waited for the lugger with his guns ready shotted.