Thus fell the strong _Terrible_, bravely and bold, But sixteen survivors the tale can unfold. The French were the victors, tho' much to their cost, For many brave French were with Englishmen lost. For thus says old Time, "Since Queen Elizabeth, I ne'er saw the fellow of brave Captain Death." There is another poetic effusion on the subject, under the title "The Terrible Privateer"; but it is such halting doggrel that the reader shall be spared the transcription; with the exception of the last verse, which breathes such a blunt British spirit that it would be a pity to omit it: Here's a health unto our British fleet. Grant they with these privateers may meet, And have better luck than the _Terrible_, And sink those Mounsiers all to hell. The _Vengeance_ was, in fact, captured about twelve months later by the _Hussar_, a man-of-war, after a stout resistance, in which she lost heavily; it is impossible, however, to say how far the devout aspiration of the poet was fulfilled! MR. PETER BAKER AND THE "MENTOR" In the Reading-room of the Free Library in Liverpool there hangs an oil-painting, of which a reproduction is here given, illustrating an incident which occurred during the American War of Secession, in 1778. Liverpool merchants and shipowners were very active at that time in the fitting out of privateers; and some, or one of them, entered into a contract with one Peter Baker to build a vessel for this purpose. Now, Baker does not appear to have had the necessary training and experience to qualify him as a designer and builder of ships. He had served a short apprenticeship with some employer in the neighbourhood of Garston, near Liverpool, and had then worked as a carpenter in Liverpool, eventually becoming a master. However, he set to work to fulfil his contract; but he turned out of hand such a sorry specimen of a ship--clumsy, ill-built, lopsided, and with sailing qualities more suited to a haystack than a smart privateer--that the prospective owner refused her, throwing her back on his hands--a very serious matter for Peter Baker, who was heavily in debt over the venture. Strangely enough, this apparent calamity proved to be the making of him. Despairing of paying his debts, he resolved upon the somewhat desperate course of fitting out the ship as a venture of his own, and contrived to obtain sufficient credit for this purpose. Probably his creditors agreed to give him this chance, as the privateers not infrequently made considerable sums of money.