judging that they might be of use to him, and remained on board with
the wounded, his colors always flying.

The English, after firing some time at his vessel, and receiving no
answer, approached in their boats and asked him why he did not fire,
or lower his flag? De Vauquelin answered them fiercely that, had he
had any more powder he would not have been silent so long; that if
they had a mind to take him, they might cut down his flag themselves,
as hitherto his custom was not to strike his colors, but to make
others--his country's enemies--do so. The English then went on board
of his ship, and took him prisoner, with his wounded men, and in
consideration of his determination--they having cut down his
flag--treated him with the regard which bravery can claim at the hands
of a generous enemy. De Vauquelin had already made himself known to
the English by his undaunted courage at the siege of Louisburg. His
intrepidity so delighted the English Admiral, that he begged him to
tell him freely how he could serve him. He answered the Admiral, "that
what he wished for of all things was to have his liberty and
permission to return to France." The Admiral had so great a
consideration for him, that he caused a vessel to be immediately
fitted out to carry him to Europe, ordering the English captain to
obey De Vauquelin and land him in any French port he might ask for,
leaving him at the same time to choose what French passengers would
accompany him. This noble and generous behaviour of the English did
honor to their nation, by rendering justice to, and discerning the
merit of, an enemy, far beyond what De Vauquelin met with from
Berryer, the Secretary of the Navy, on his arrival in France.

The unhappy situation of the colony was now past remedy, and may be
compared to a man in the agonies of death, to whom the physician