In the haste to deliver Lord Howe's despatch, the postchaise overturned, causing Sir Roger Curtis to bruise his arm severely so that when he arrived at the Admiralty on the evening of 10 June he had his arm in a sling. Within a few hours the news had got around and the following day The Times published a brief report under the headline 'IMPORTANT NAVAL VICTORY!!!!' which described how the English had gained a victory over the French fleet by the capture of six sail of the line 'after a severe conflict of many hours'. The next day The Times published Lord Howe's despatch in full and recorded the first reactions of the people of London:
We never recollect to have witnessed more general joy, than was manifested on every countenance throughout yesterday, in consequence of the GLORIOUS VICTORY obtained on the 1st inst. by his MAJESTY'S NAVAL FORCES under the command of Earl Howe; - a victory, which we may say with confidence, has so crippled the navy of France, that it will be impossible for the French to send another grand fleet to sea, at least during the present campaign.
England badly needed a victory. The most recent war had ended ignominiously with the defeat of the British armies in America and the loss of the American colonies, and the country now faced an aggressive French nation which had executed its king, guillotined or driven abroad thousands of its aristocrats, instituted a reign of terror, and declared war on its neighbours in Europe. As news of Lord Howe's victory spread across the capital the joyful sound of church bells rang out from Shoreditch in the east to Westminster and Chelsea in the west. Flags were hoisted everywhere, and from the ships moored in the river came the sporadic booming of guns. At the Opera House the band led the audience in a rousing rendition of 'Rule Britannia', followed by 'God save the King'. At Lloyds a subscription was opened for the relief of the widows and children of sailors who had died in the battle and within two hours more than 1,000 guineas had been collected. That night, the theatres and many of the public buildings and streets were illuminated to celebrate the occasion.
Meanwhile Lord Howe's fleet was making the slow voyage home. Some of the damaged British ships were sailing with jury masts and rigs, and the six dismasted French prizes were so crippled that they had to be towed all the way. The fleet was also slowed down by several days of calms and light breezes. On board the Bellerophon the crew continued to clear away the wreckage and had to heave one of the boats overboard because it was shot to pieces. The already cramped conditions below deck were put under further strain when space had to be found for 174 prisoners from the French ship L'Achille and then another 24 prisoners who were transferred from the frigate Venus.
On Sunday 8 June, a week after the battle, Lord Howe gave the signal for the ships to close round the flagship. Under an overcast sky, with the surface of the flat, grey sea only lightly ruffled by a northerly breeze, the scattered fleet contracted to form a dense thicket of swaying masts and sails. To the accompaniment of creaking wooden blocks and the occasional flapping of heavy canvas, the men assembled for services of thanksgiving. The service on the Bellerophon was led by the ship's chaplain, the Reverend John Fresselicque. The chaplain had been educated at Queens' College, Cambridge, and had been domestic chaplain to Lord Northesk. He used the occasion to give a lengthy sermon which he later published to raise funds for the benefit of those members of the crew who had been wounded and disabled in the three days of fighting. His sermon was couched in language so tortuous and long-winded that it must have gone over the heads of most of the sailors and marines listening in respectful silence. He took as his text a verse from Psalm 115, 'Not unto us, O Lord. Not unto us, but unto thy name give glory for thy mercy and for thy truth's sake.' And he followed this by a sentence which set the tone for the rest of his sermon:
The natural impulse of gratitude in the mind of men, is never more forcible, or its effects more pleasant, than when the Heart is warmed by the pleasing recollection of the recent benefit; this disposition is always attended with the most agreeable sensations and the spontaneous effusions of the grateful spirit are given and received with equal condescension and favor in proportion as the declaration is made with sincerity.
Hidden amidst the chaplain's florid thanks to the Almighty were several references to the courage of the officers and men and also some pointers to the high morale and discipline of the crew. He noted that, during a conflict spread over five days and involving three separate actions with the enemy, 'no complaint of any kind, even for the most trifling omission was brought forward against any one of that ship's company, exceeding six hundred.' He also drew attention to the bravery, patience and resignation shown by the wounded Admiral Pasley: 'He fought like a hero - he bore his misfortune like a Christian.'
On 10 June observers at Plymouth spotted a three-decked ship on the horizon. She had damaged masts and rigging and was heading eastward up the Channel. It was presumed that she was one of Howe's fleet. This was confirmed when the next day eighteen of Howe's ships of the line and nine frigates sailed into Plymouth harbour. At dawn on 13 June the rest of the fleet, together with the French prizes, arrived at Portsmouth. Crowds rapidly gathered along the waterfront and, as Howe's flagship dropped anchor, the guns of the shore battery thundered out a salute. When Howe stepped ashore around midday the battery fired a second, deafening salute and the band of the Gloucester militia, which was drawn up on the lower end of the Grand Parade, played 'See the conquering hero comes'. By now there were people on the tops of buildings, at every balcony and window, filling the streets and packing the ramparts of the city's defences. As Howe passed through the cheering crowds he repeatedly thanked them but reminded them that it was 'the brave British seamen that did the business'.
Earlier that morning the Bellerophon had dropped anchor in the fleet anchorage at Spithead. Shortly afterwards Admiral Pasley was helped down the ship's side and into his barge. It was almost four years since he had first stepped on board the Bellerophon as her first captain, and we can only guess at his feelings as he was rowed away from the ship for the last time. He was heading, not for the jubilant crowds and the military band at Portsmouth, but for Gosport on the other side of the harbour entrance in order to have his wound treated by the surgeons at Haslar Hospital. According to a newspaper report he looked much better than might have been expected and waved his hand to the people who cheered him as he came ashore.
Pasley had proved an extremely effective captain and had made his mark as rear-admiral commanding Howe's flying squadron in the recent battle. On 26 July he was created a baronet and he was granted a pension of £l,000 a year for the loss of his leg. He was now sixty years old and might have been tempted to retire to his house in Winchester and to live out his days quietly with his wife and family. However, four years after the First of June, he was appointed commander-in-chief at the Nore and in March 1799 took up the post of port admiral at Plymouth where he gained a reputation for his hospitality.