traordinary, as his Majesty’s gratitude was subsequently evinced by the distribution of rings, snuff-boxes, and honorary titles, on a variety of less important occasions.
We shall conclude this part of our memoir of Captain Ricketts by observing, that during his visits to Tripoli he had frequent interviews with the ruler of that province, who appeared remarkably solicitous to show him every public honor, and entered into conversation with him, not only with the frankness of equality, but with what appeared to be the novel delight of meeting a young man, whose conversation seemed totally uninfluenced by any considerations of his grandeur, his prejudices, or his power. The Bashaw, though his hands had been so deeply stained in blood, as before stated, was himself little more than thirty years of age, of a fine commanding person, open countenance, and generally frank manner.
Captain Ricketts was subsequently employed in the blockade of Genoa; and on one occasion we find him dispersing a convoy laden with grain, for the use of the famishing garrison; an event which greatly accelerated the fall of that important city[1]. He also rendered an important service to the army under Sir Ralph Abercromby, by giving that General timely information of the disastrous turn of affairs occasioned by the battle of Marengo, and cautioning him of the danger he would have incurred by continuing his course towards the Genoese capital, which had been re-occupied by the French, and from whence he was but a short distance when fallen in with by El Corso.
The subject of this memoir was next employed by Lord Keith as senior officer in the Adriatic. His early proceedings on that station are thus officially related by himself:
