On June 4th Brommy, with a steam frigate and two steam corvettes, attacked a Danish frigate which was lying becalmed off Heligoland. Hardly, however, had the engagement commenced before a signal shot from the island warned the belligerents that they were within British territorial waters, and must suspend hostilities. Soon afterwards the Danish blockading squadron approached the scene, and the German ships hurried back to their harbour. This was the only opportunity the German Fleet had of showing its quality. Brommy was promoted to Rear-Admiral later in the year. Insignificant as the Heligoland skirmish was in itself, it had a sequel which has played a great part in all subsequent movements for increasing the German Fleet. Brommy's ships had fought under the black-red-and-gold that were to be the colours of the new Empire. But this Empire had then no legal existence, and, as a matter of fact, never did have one, and no doubt Palmerston was only giving expression to recognised principles of international law when he wrote that vessels committing acts of belligerency under the black-red-and-gold flag would render themselves liable to be treated as "pirates." The Frankfort Government, a product of excitement and inexperience, made many mistakes which the ripe tradition of an old-established administration would have avoided, and, in its haste to assert itself on the seas, doubtless did not give sufficient thought to the restrictions imposed upon it by its own anomalous status. The hoisting of the black-red-and-gold on a flotilla or warships was undeniably a questionable proceeding, and one which justified the view propounded by the British Foreign Minister. At the same time, his words belong to the category of things which had better have been left unsaid. The word "pirate" rankled then, and has ever since continued to rankle, and the Palmerstonian note has been cited ten thousand times, and is still cited, as the supreme example of the tyrannous arrogance with which Britain rules the waves.