Potter joyfully assented, and went to sea with his strange, untrained, crew. Volunteers were asked to go aloft, and the detachment was cautioned as to its dangers, and the supreme necessity for coolness and readiness of resource; and was told that to be _ordered_ aloft was contrary to Queen’s regulations. None the less, sixty stalwart lads stepped forward, and of these, twenty-eight were chosen for the yards and “tops.” A week’s duty of this kind brought the mutineers to their senses; that and the bread and water probably. They prayed to be allowed to return to their duty, and did so. Colonel Sargent thought, and rightly, that “he had had pleasure in going aloft with them himself, because the boldest and most zealous of his men had never been in the rigging before, and some had not even been on board a ship of any kind previous to their voyage out and home.” Captain Potter thought and said that he “was perfectly astonished to see soldiers able to turn themselves all at once into such good sailors, and to teach so wholesome a lesson to his crew, not one of whom, he was convinced, would ever again strike work in a vessel on board of which British soldiers were embarked.” The Buff crew refused payment for their extra work, when it was proposed to stop a portion of the mutineers’ pay and hand it over to the new crew, and “wished to enjoy the satisfaction of feeling that they had only done their duty as British soldiers, determined to support their commanding officer in any position.” The incident is not merely one of passing interest, it evidences that _sentiment du devoir_ and discipline which, combined, form the finest soldiery the world has ever seen. These are but a few of the noble records of the “Army at Sea.” CHAPTER IX THE PENINSULAR ARMY: (_a_) ITS MAKING--1793-1808