She had her boarding nettings up, and everything ready for a stout resistance. On the approach of the boats the privateer and the forts opened a heavy fire of round and grape, but they, nothing daunted, gave three hearty cheers, dashed on, and, after a most gallant defence, she was boarded and brought out. Lieutenant Burke was severely wounded by a pike through both thighs, and the French captain, who most heroically fought his ship to the last moment, died of his wounds an hour after she was taken. He asked (poor fellow!) if he had done all he could to defend his ship; being answered in the affirmative, and justly complimented on his gallant conduct, he gave a faint smile, and expired. During the time we lay at anchor here we were in the habit of sending a boat to haul the seine on the Bayonne islands, and we were generally pretty successful. Amongst other fish, we frequently caught the torpedo[C], which gave me a practical lesson of its electric powers. On the 6th of September a tremendous heavy gale came on from the southward and westward, in which several vessels belonging to our convoy drifted from their anchors, and went on shore. The _Stag_, frigate, of 32 guns, Captain Winthrop, was wrecked upon Point Subudo. However, we fortunately saved the crew; but the men of some transports and merchant vessels that went on shore in other parts of the bay fell into the hands of the Spaniards. Not being able to get the _Stag_ off, she was burnt the same evening. The moment the wind and weather permitted we sailed with the expedition from Vigo Bay, and, having seen them safe off the coast, the admiral, according to orders, gave up his charge to Captain Sir Alexander Cochrane, and proceeded off the Western Islands in search of some Spanish galleons, said to be coming home in a Portuguese convoy. We had with us four sail-of-the-line, and three frigates. During our cruise we fell in thrice with a large French ship (privateer), but her legs were too nimble for us. One day, when we had all sail set, and were carrying every stitch of canvass we could crowd in chase, with a fine breeze, and nearing her fast, our unlucky genius, which had attended us all this cruise, from the sprite that said “Bo!” to old Pulteney at Ferrol, still haunted us up to the present time. We carried away our foretop-mast, and she again escaped. The _Renown_ being by far the best sailing ship of the squadron, the others stood no chance with the privateer, who very quietly hauled up her courses, and no doubt enjoyed the fun of looking at us _hors de combat_.