In 1777 two American privateers hung about the British Isles, making
captures, and sending their prizes into French ports. The exploits of
Paul Jones were equalled by these irregular cruisers. One of them,
being in need of provisions, put into the little Irish port of
Beerhaven, and lay at anchor for ten hours, while her crew scoured the
town in search of the needed stores. A second privateer boldly entered
a harbor on the Island of Guernsey. A castle at the entrance of the
harbor opened fire upon her, whereupon she came about, and, keeping
out of range of the castle guns, captured a large brig that was making
for the port. When night fell, the privateer sent a boat's crew
ashore, and took captive two officers of the local militia.

In 1778 occurred an action between a private armed ship and a British
frigate, in which the privateer was signally successful. On the 19th
of September of that year, the "Gen. Hancock," a stout-built, well
armed and manned privateer, fell in with the "Levant," a British
frigate of thirty-two guns. The "Hancock" made no attempt to avoid a
conflict, and opened with a broadside without answering the enemy's
hail. The action was stubbornly contested upon both sides. After an
hour of fighting, the captain of the Yankee ship, peering through the
smoke, saw that the colors no longer waved above his adversary.

"Have you struck?" he shouted.

"No. Fire away," came the response faintly through the roar of the
cannon. Two hours longer the combat raged, with the ships lying
yard-arm to yard-arm. A ball struck Capt. Hardy of the "Hancock" in
the neck, and he was carried below, while the first lieutenant took
command of the ship. A few minutes later there arose a deafening roar
and blinding flash; a terrific shock threw the men on the American
ship to the deck. Stifling smoke darkened the atmosphere; and pieces
of timber, cordage, and even horribly torn bits of human flesh began
to fall upon the decks. When the smoke cleared away, the Americans
looked eagerly for their enemy. Where she had floated a minute or two
before, was now a shattered, blackened hulk fast sinking beneath the
waves. The surface of the sea for yards around was strewn with
wreckage, and here and there men could be seen struggling for life. As
ready to save life as they had been to destroy it, the Americans
lowered their boats and pulled about, picking up the survivors of the
explosion. The boatswain of the ill-fated ship and sevent