The reader may perhaps not be aware that among civilised nations, in naval warfare, ships of the line never fire at frigates, unless they provoke hostility by interposing between belligerent ships, or firing into them, as was the case in the Nile, when Sir James Saumarez, in the Orion, was under the necessity of sinking the Artemise, which he did with one broadside, as a reward for her temerity.  Under this pax in bellum sort of compact we might have come off scot-free, had we not partaken very liberally of the shot intended for larger ships, which did serious damage among our people.

The two British lines running down parallel to each other, and nearly perpendicular to the crescent line of the combined fleets, was the grandest sight that was ever witnessed.  As soon as our van was within gun-shot of the enemy, they opened their fire on the Royal Sovereign and the Victory; but when the first-named of these noble ships rounded to, under the stern of the Santa Anna, and the Victory had very soon after laid herself on board the Redoubtable, the clouds of smoke enveloped both fleets, and little was to be seen except the falling of masts, and here and there, as the smoke blew away, a ship totally dismasted.

One of these proved to be English, and our captain, seeing her between two of the enemy, bore up to take her in tow:  at the same time, one of our ships of the line opened a heavy fire on one of the French line-of-battle ships, unluckily situated in a right line between us, so that the shot which missed the enemy sometimes came on board of us.  I was looking out of the bow port at the moment that a shot struck our ship on the stern between wind and water.  It was the first time I had ever seen the effect of a heavy shot; it made a great splash, and to me as I then thought, a very unusual noise, throwing a great deal of water in my face.  I very naturally started back, as I believe many a brave fellow has done.  Two of the seamen quartered at my guns laughed at me.  I felt ashamed, and resolved to show no more such weakness.

This shot was very soon succeeded by some others not quite so harmless:  one came into the bow port, and killed the two men who had witnessed my trepidation.  My pride having been hurt that these men should have seen me flinch, I will own that I was secretly pleased when I saw them removed beyond the reach of human interrogation.  It would be difficult to describe my feelings on this occasion.  Not six weeks before, I was the robber of hen-roosts and gardens—­the hero of a horse-pond, ducking an usher—­now suddenly, and almost without any previous warning or reflection, placed in the midst of carnage, and an actor of one of those grand events by which the fate of the civilised world was to be decided.