The gratification felt at receiving his commission was soon forgotten, when he found himself appointed to a guard-ship. He repeatedly solicited more active employment, and at length took an opportunity to accost Lord Sandwich in the street at Portsmouth. The First Lord asked him if he were the young man who had been writing him so many letters; and after a reproof for accosting him in the street, appointed an audience at the hotel. He there told him that he could not be employed as he wished, because he was included in the convention of Saratoga; and when Mr. Pellew pleaded that the enemy had broken the convention, Lord Sandwich replied, that was no reason why England should do so too. At length, after every other plea had been urged in vain. Mr. Pellew took out his commission, and begged that he might be allowed to return it, declaring that he would rather command a privateer, than remain inactive while the war was going on. Lord Sandwich, smiling at his ardour, desired him to put up his commission, and promised that he should not be forgotten. Soon after, he was appointed to the Licorne.
In the spring of 1779, the Licorne sailed for the Newfoundland station, under the orders of Captain Cadogan, who had lately superseded Captain Bellew, her former commander. On her passage out, she engaged two of the enemy’s cruisers, and Lieutenant Pellew’s conduct in the action received the praise of his captain. She returned to England in December, when he left her to join the Apollo, commanded by his excellent friend and patron Captain Pownoll, who was so delighted to obtain once more the services of a follower whom he regarded with equal pride and affection, that he removed for his sake an officer of high connexions, whose seniority would have prevented Mr. Pellew from being the first lieutenant.
Mr. Pellew was too soon deprived of this inestimable friend. On the morning of the 15th of June 1780, the Apollo, cruising in the North Sea, in company with some other ships, was ordered away by the senior captain in pursuit of a cutter. She had almost come up with the chase, when the Stanislaus French frigate hove in sight, and the Apollo left the cutter for a more equal opponent. She overtook and brought her to action at half-past twelve, engaging under a press of sail, for the enemy made every effort to escape to the neutral port of Ostend, which was not far distant. In an hour after the action commenced, Captain Pownoll was shot through the body. He said to his young friend, “Pellew, I know you won’t give his Majesty’s ship away;” and immediately died in his arms. Mr. Pellew continued the action for more than an hour longer, and drove the enemy, beaten and dismasted, on shore; but he was disappointed of his prize, which claimed protection from the neutral port. The Apollo had five killed, besides the captain, and twenty wounded. A musket ball, which had struck Captain Pownoll in a former action, was found after his death, lodged among the muscles of the chest. The Stanislaus was got off, and carried into Ostend, where, being brought to sale, she was purchased by the British government, and added to the navy.