“I do not, however,” said he, in a letter to Captain Locker, “repine at our loss; we have, in other respects, been very fortunate:  for, on the 14th of August, we fell in with, in Boston Bay, four sail of the line, and the Iris frigate, part of Monsieur Vaudreuil’s squadron, who gave us a pretty dance for nine or ten hours.  But we beat all, except the frigate; and, though we brought to for her, after we were out of sight of the line of battle ships, she tacked and stood from us.  Our escape I think wonderful.  They were, on the clearing up of a fog, within shot of us; and chased us, the whole time, about one point from the wind.  The frigate, I fancy, had not forgotten the dressing Captain Salter had given the Amazon, for daring to leave the line of battle ships.”

This is the hero’s own modest account of the affair:  but, in truth, he might have assumed all the merit of his escape.  The pretty dance he mentions, was led and concluded, by himself, with consummate skill and address, among the shoals of St. George’s Bank; where the line of battle ships were unable to follow, had they even possessed his skill in pilotage.  They, therefore, at length, quitted the pursuit:  though the frigate, for some time after, continued to persevere; and had, about sun-set, even approached within little more than gun-shot.  At this time, overhearing some of his men remark to one another, that they thought, as the line of battle ships were not following, they should be able to manage the frigate, he immediately told his brave fellows, in the most kind and encouraging language, that he would, at least, give them an opportunity to try for it:  and, ordering the main-top-sail to be instantly laid to the mast, the French frigate no sooner beheld them thus bringing to, to engage, than it suddenly tacked, and bore away to rejoin it’s consorts.  The ascription of this French pusillanimity, to Captain Salter’s gallant chastisement of the Amazon, on a similar occasion, is a very refined compliment to that deserving officer, and an admirable specimen of Captain Nelson’s excessive candour and humility; while the acknowledgment that he had, “in other respects, been very fortunate,” displays the genuine operation of nature in a valorous British bosom, so successfully described by Goldsmith, in his admirable tale of the Disabled Veteran.

It was at Quebec that Captain Nelson and Alexander Davison, Esq. commenced that friendship which was continued, on his part, to what may be considered as the last moment of his life; and which, on the part of Mr Davison, extending beyond the grave, still survives for all who were dear to him, and to every thing that regards a due veneration of his memory.

In less than a month, while comfortably situated at Quebec, chiefly residing on shore at Mr. Davison’s, with no other expectations, or desire, than those of returning to England, the arrival of the Drake sloop, and Cockatrice cutter, brought directions for the transports to be fitted for the reception of troops, and sent to New York; in consequence of which, Captain Nelson was ordered to conduct the fleet thither.  This, as he observed, in the letter last quoted, dated from the Isle of Bec, in the River St. Lawrence, was “a very pretty job, at this late season of the year; for our sails are,” adds he, “at this moment frozen to the yards.”