The Peacock continued her course and cruised for some time in the straits of Sunda, where she made three captures. On the last of June she encountered the Nautilus, of 14 guns, which after a single broadside surrendered. Learning from the commander of the latter that peace had been declared, Captain Warrington immediately restored the vessel. This was the last vessel captured during the war, and the combat between the Hornet and the Penguin was the last regular action. Thus our little navy commenced and closed its career with a victory. In fact its history had been reports of victories. So constant and astounding had they become, that for a long time before the war closed England ceased to publish official accounts of her naval defeats. In the first flush of indignation at these reverses on the sea, the English repelled with scorn the implication that they had at last found a successful rival. Excuses and reasons for them were ample, and fairer experiments were demanded before so humiliating a thought should be entertained. Our ships, they said, were falsely rated, and in those first single contests the equality was merely nominal, not real. The ignorant and conceited maintained their arrogant, boastful tone to the end; but as the war advanced the more reflecting felt that the repeated victories gained by us could not be swept away by assertions that the world would not reason as they wished it to, and were compelled to admit that their "moral effect was astounding." Well it might be. We know of nothing in the annals of civilized warfare compared to the boldness and success of our little navy during the war. The battles of the Nile and Trafalgar, which had covered the English fleets with glory, had been for years ringing over our land. Flushed with victory and confident of success, they bore down on our coast. With only a handful of ships to offer against this overwhelming force, our commanders nevertheless stood boldly out to sea, and flung their flags of defiance to the breeze. The world looked with amazement on the rashness that could provoke so unequal a strife; but while it waited to hear that our little navy was blown out of the water, the news came of the loss of the Guerriere. Report after report of victories gained by us, followed with stunning rapidity. "The English were defeated on their own element," was the universal exclamation, and her indisputed claim to the seas was broken forever. The courage that could bear up against such fearful odds and pluck the wreath of victory from the English navy, has covered the commanders of that time with abiding honors. Our rights were restored--our commerce protected--and the haughty bearing of England towards us chastized from her forever. The British flag had been lowered so often to the "stars and stripes," that respect and fear usurped the place of contempt and pride.