The spirits aboard the Acasta have been uncommonly high since the capture of the Herald, Friendship and Little Catharine on Christmas day. It is, of course, due to the news of the fortune aboard the captured ships, combined with the extra food and drink for every man to celebrate Christmas. I am told that they will only require moderate repairs to make the trip to Halifax as prizes, and that their repair should be only the work of a day or so.
The Acasta's officers had been invited over to dine with Capt. Beresford and his men aboard the Poictiers for Christmas, but the sighting and chase of the Herald caused a delay in those plans. Now that the capture has taken place, we are to have our belated Christmas dinner with the Poictiers this evening.
While I do not want to count my proverbial chickens before they are hatched, I have found it difficult not to think about the sum of prize money that could potentially befall me should all go well back in Halifax with these recent captures. I would suspect that I am not the only man aboard with such thoughts.
But not all my thoughts lie in my purse, they also lie with my good wife at home, and to Christmases past, under the kissing bough.
But not all my thoughts lie in my purse, they also lie with my good wife at home, and to Christmases past, under the kissing bough.
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