and hearing these people talk French, our men fired upon them, and they upon us. The sortie never reached its destination--Johnny Crapaud was not to be caught napping--our expedition partly failed in its object; Captain Long, of His Majesty’s brig _Vincego_, was killed. “_Sauve qui peut_” was the order of the day, and a pell-mell retreat to the boats became necessary. Followed by the French, several were killed, wounded, and taken prisoners, and some shot in the water, trying to swim off to the boats. A few days after, the following ludicrous song appeared on board, to the tune of “Vinegar Hill”:-- “Pray were you at Elba races? Were you there in the morning? Some were picking of grapes,[D] Some were drinking of wine, And some were running away, And singing out, ‘Oh! rare Elba races.’” We then returned to Minorca to get more troops; but shortly after our arrival, a French man-of-war brig, from Toulon, came into the roads, with despatches, to inform us the preliminary treaty of peace had been signed at Amiens. While we remained at Minorca, we lost our captain of marines (Burns), a very worthy man. His death was singular. A vessel, a few weeks after the arrival of the French brig, came from England, confirming the news from France, with an order to cease hostilities; also bringing letters and papers. It was one in the morning when the news came. Poor Burns got up quite well, and sat laughing and talking, and hearing the news from old England, and saying what he should do when he got upon half-pay; called for a glass of cold water, which he drank off, and laid down in his cot again; the cramp seized him in his stomach, and in five minutes he was a corpse. He was much beloved in the ship, full of humour, and a kind-hearted pleasant man. He was buried with military honours at Port Mahon, all the officers of the ship, and many of the squadron, attending his funeral. CHAPTER IV. From the Peace of Amiens (1802) until the commencement of the second Gallic War--Gambling. I fortunately remained in the Mediterranean during the whole of the short peace, which helped on my mid’s time, in the _Renown_ (74), with Captain John C. White[E], a smart officer. Our worthy and amiable admiral struck his flag at Minorca, and returned to England, from whence he was shortly sent, at the request of the Emperor of Russia, to St. Petersburgh, as ambassador, and gave universal satisfaction. Indeed, he was fully capable of wielding the sword, using the pen, or managing the weighty matters of a court. From Minorca we sailed for Malta--at which place we remained nine months, without ever going out of it.