tender, and three boats were in the midst of the falling timbers, and nearly swamped by the waves produced, they escaped in safety. Nowadays torpedoes would settle the business of blowing up vessels of the kind in a much safer and surer manner. The evacuation was effected without loss, nearly 15,000 Toulonese refugees—men, women, and children—being taken on board for removal to England. Fifteen French ships of war were taken off as prizes, while the magazines, storehouses, and shipping were destroyed by fire. The total number of vessels taken or burned by the British was eighteen of the line, nine frigates, and eleven corvettes, and would have been much greater but for the blundering or treachery of the Spaniards, and the pusillanimous flight of the Neapolitans. Thus the _Victory_ was the silent witness of an almost bloodless success, so far as our forces were concerned, in spite of the noise and smoke and flame by which it was accompanied. A little later, she was engaged in the siege of Bastia, Corsica, which was taken by a naval force numbering about one-fourth of their opponents; and again at Calvi, where Nelson lost an eye and helped to gain the day. In the spring of 1795 she was again in the Mediterranean, and for once was engaged in what has been described as a “miserable action,” although the action, or want thereof, was all on the part of a vice-admiral who, as Nelson said, “took things too coolly.” Twenty-three British line-of-battle ships, whilst engaging, off the Hyères Isles, only seventeen French, with the certainty of triumphant results, if not, indeed, of the complete annihilation of the enemy, were signalled by Admiral Hotham to discontinue the fight. The disgust of the commanders in general and Nelson in particular can well be understood. The only prize taken, the _Alcide_, blew up, with the loss of half her crew, as if in very disgust at having surrendered, and we can well believe that even the inanimate timbers of the _Victory_ and her consorts groaned as they were drawn off from the scene of action. The fight off the Hyères must be inscribed in black, but happily the next to be recorded might well be written with letters of gold in the annals of our country, although its glory was soon afterwards partially eclipsed by others still greater.