An interesting coincidence must also be noted.  Thirty-five years later, only a few leagues from the place where Laperouse first learnt what it meant to fight the British on the sea, another young officer who was afterwards greatly concerned with Australasian exploration had his introduction to naval warfare.  It was in 1794 that Midshipman Matthew Flinders, on the Bellerophon, Captain Pasley, played his valiant little part in a great fleet action off Brest.  Both of these youths, whose longing was for exploration and discovery, and who are remembered by mankind in that connection, were cradled on the sea amidst the smoke and flame of battle, both in the same waters.

During the next twenty-five years Laperouse saw a considerable amount of fighting in the East and West Indies, and in Canadian waters.  He was commander of the Amazon, under D’Estaing, during a period when events did not shape themselves very gloriously for British arms, not because our admirals had lost their skill and nerve, or our seamen their grit and courage, but because Governments at home muddled, squabbled, starved the navy, misunderstood the problem, and generally made a mess of things.  We need not follow him through the details of these years, but simply note that Laperouse’s dash and good seamanship won him a high reputation among French naval officers, and brought him under the eye of the authorities who afterwards chose him to command an expedition of discovery.

One incident must be recorded, because it throws a light on the character of Laperouse.  In 1782, whilst serving under Admiral Latouche-Treville in the West, he was ordered to destroy the British forts on the Hudson River.  He attacked them with the sceptre, 74 guns.  The British had been engaged in their most unfortunate war with the American Colonies, and in 1781, in consequence of wretchedly bad strategy, had lost command of the sea.  The French had been helping the revolted Americans, not for love of them, but from enmity to their rivals.  After the capitulation of the British troops at Yorktown, a number of loyalists still held out under discouraging conditions in Canada, and the French desired to dislodge them from the important waterway of the Hudson.

Laperouse found little difficulty in fulfilling his mission, for the defence was weak and the garrisons of the forts, after a brief resistance, fled to the woods.  It was then that he did a thing described in our principal naval history as an act of “kindness and humanity, rare in the annals of war.”  Laperouse knew that if he totally destroyed the stores as well as the forts, the unfortunate British, after he had left, would perish either from hunger or under the tomahawks of the Red Indians.  So he was careful to see that the food and clothing, and a quantity of powder and small arms, were left untouched, for, as he nobly said, “An enemy conquered should have nothing more to fear from a civilised foe; he then becomes a friend.”