As the service of a fire-ship was one that required the greatest bravery and coolness--since it was, of course, attacked in every possible way, and it was often difficult to escape by the boat chained behind it--it displays the extraordinary inconsistency of opinion about such matters that it should have been accounted rather a service of infamy than of honour. Molloy, in 1769, wrote of it as the practice of his day to put to death prisoners made from a fire-ship: ‘Generally the persons found in them are put to death if taken.’[101] And another writer says: ‘Whether it be from a refined idea, or from the most determined resentment towards those who act in fire-ships, may be difficult to judge; but there is rarely any quarter given to such as fall into the enemy’s power.’[102] Clock-machines, or torpedoes, were introduced into European warfare by the English, being intended to destroy Napoleon’s ships at Boulogne in 1804. It is remarkable that the use of them was at first reprobated by Captain Brenton, and by Lord St. Vincent, who foresaw that other Powers would in turn adopt the innovation.[103] The French, who picked up some of them near Boulogne, called them infernal machines. But at present they seem fairly established as part of good warfare, in default of any international agreement against them, such as that which exists against explosive bullets. The same International Act which abolished privateering between the signatory Powers settled also between them two other disputed points which for centuries were a frequent cause of war and jealousy--namely, the liability of the property of neutrals to be seized when found in the ships of an enemy, and of the property of an enemy to be seized when found in the ships of a neutral.