ion 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.

Among our killed was a Dutch boatswain's mate: his wife was on board,
and the stick which he was allowed to carry in virtue of his office, he
very frequently applied to the shoulders of his helpmate, in requital
for certain instances of infidelity; nor, with all my respect for the
fair sex, can I deny that the punishment was generally deserved. When
the cannon-ball had deprived her of her lawful protector and the
guardian of her honour, she sat by the side of his mangled remains,
making many unavailing efforts to weep; a tear from one eye coursed down
her cheek, and was lost in her mouth; one from the other eye started at
the same time, but, for want of nourishment, halted on her cheekbone,
where, collecting the smoke and gunpowder which surrounded us, it formed
a little black peninsula and isthmus on her face, and gave to her heroic
grief a truly mourning tear. This proof of conjugal affection she would
not part with until the following day, when having seen the last sad
rites paid to the body of her faithful Achilles, she washed her face,
and