My captain, as soon as he could see his mark, weighed, ran in, and engaged the batteries, while he also directed his guns at the bottoms of the enemy’s ships, as they lay on shore on their beam ends.  Isle d’Aix gave us a warm reception.  I was on the forecastle, the captain of which had his head taken clean off, by a cannon-ball; the captain of the ship coming forward at the same moment, only said, “Poor fellow! throw him overboard; there is no time for a coroner’s inquest now.”  We were a considerable time engaging the batteries, and the vessels near them, without receiving any assistance from our ships.

While this was going on, a very curious instance of muscular action occurred:  a lad of eighteen years of age was on the forecastle, when a shot cut away the whole of his bowels, which were scattered over another midshipman and myself, and nearly blinded us.  He fell—­and after lying a few seconds, sprang suddenly on his feet, stared us horribly in the face, and fell down dead.  The spine had not been divided; but with that exception, the lower was separated from the upper part of the body.

Some of our vessels seeing us so warmly engaged, began to move up to our assistance.  One of our ships of the line came into action in such gallant trim, that it was glorious to behold.  She was a beautiful ship, in what we call “high kelter;” she seemed a living body, conscious of her own superior power over her opponents, whose shot she despised, as they fell thick and fast about her, while she deliberately took up an admirable position for battle.  And having furled her sails, and squared her yards, as if she had been at Spithead, her men came down from aloft, went to their guns, and opened such a fire on the enemy’s ships and batteries, as would have delighted the great Nelson himself, could he have been present.  The results of this action are well known, and do not need repeating here; it was one of the winding-up scenes of the war.  The French, slow to believe their naval inferiority, now submitted in silence.  Our navy had done its work; and from that time, the brunt of the war fell on the army.

The advocates of fatalism or predestination might adduce a strong illustration of their doctrine as evinced in the death of the captain of one of the French ships destroyed.  This officer had been taken out of his ship by one of the boats of our frigate; but, recollecting that he had left on board nautical instruments of great value, he requested our captain to go with him in the gig, and bring them away before the ship was burned.  They did go, and the boat being very small, they sat very close side by side, on a piece of board not much more than two feet long, which, for want of proper seats, was laid across the stern of the boat.  One of the French ships was burning at the time; her guns went off as fast as the fire reached them; and a chance shot took the board from under the two captains:  the English captain was not hurt; but the splinters entered the body of the French captain, and killed him.  Late in the evening, the other French line-of-battle ships that were ashore were set fire to, and a splendid illumination they made:  we were close to them, and the splinters and fragments of wreck fell on board of us.