" At last I reached the cockpit, when Mr. Dewar, the surgeon, Mr. Frowd, the chaplain, and Mr. Somerville, the purser, with some friends, met me and began to congratulate me on my safe return, for they never expected I should escape. They gave me some refreshment, but I could eat nothing, I only drank a little wine and water. Now I wished to assure myself if I was out of danger or not. I asked how much we were above water. They told me we were pretty safe, because the cockpit was about two or three feet below the water line, and that I had nothing to fear, as I was now out of the greatest danger. Hearing this, relieved me, but having heard that several shots had passed through our ship between wind and water, and that the carpenter had stopped the holes, I then lost the idea of perfect safety, and walked fearfully into the cockpit.
" Observing that the action was going on without any appearance of ceasing, I began to encourage myself by thinking that every living being is uncertain of his existence, and that, through life, we are continually exposed to the mercy of circumstances, and thus I commenced assisting those poor men after their wounds were dressed, for humanity and natural sensibility at such a dreadful time, call upon everybody to pity and help the unfortunate. Some of them could not walk, others were deprived of their sight, and some were to be carried from one place to another. It was, indeed, a most pitiable sight; hut I think the most shocking sight was the amputation of limbs, in preference to beholding which, if I were a military man, I should certainly prefer being on deck than with the doctor in the cockpit, "From curiosity I wished to observe the doctor's operations.
1 But while observing the first operation, which was the amputation of an arm, I could not bear it, and began to faint, especially when the doctor commenced sawing the bone. I then went away. At this time I saw Lieutenant John Frederick Johnstone come down the cockpit, wounded in his cheek. After the wound had been dressed, he remained a short time, laughing. He asked me to assist him to put on his coat, and went to the hatchway, wishing to go on deck again. I then held him by the shoulders to hinder him, and said, 'Where are you going? you are wounded/ In reply, he said, ' I am very well now, and must go immediately.' After two hour's time I saw him, poor fellow, brought down to the cock-pit again by four seamen, with his left arm nearly taken from his shoulder, and when I met him in that state, he could not bear to be carried, but wished to lie down where he was, and began to call ' Doctor!
Doctor! ' when we all took care of him, and the Doctor came and amputated his arm quite from the joint to the shoulder. I saw that the side of his breast was terribly torn. After the wound was dressed, we laid him on a sofa with great care, and were all very sorry, and did not expect he would live. " After he had been a week between life and death, the doctor began to give us some hope; and so by degrees, we saw him almost out of danger, and shook hands with him; when, some days after, he wrote a letter to his friends in England, and we were all happy in seeing him getting better; (although the doctor still feared he would bleed again) and Lord Exmouth took him to his own cabin, and conferred upon him the greatest care in every possible manner.
"Better indeed would it have been for us to have endured the grief of his death all at once, when he was first wounded, than to have him with us thirty-six days after the battle, and then to bury him before his own home. " This melancholy event gave us double sorrow. This brave and unfortunate young officer was about 25 years old. He was wounded ©n the 27th of August, and continued to get better until the 27th of September. On the 28th, his wound bled again, when the doctor was obliged to cut the flesh and take up that vein, in order to stop the blood. But poor Johnstone, being very thin and weak, survived the operation five days only, and at 6 o'clock on the evening of the 3d of October, departed this life.
At 12 next day, he was buried in the sea, when we had arrived opposite Plymouth, with great honor and ceremeny. Minute guns were fired; the Royal standard was waved over his coffin, and the flags of all the ships were hoisted at half-mast, and his Lordship and all the other officers were at his funeral. But to continue. "About this time I was sorry to see my friend Mr. Grimes (his Lordship's secretary) conducted below: he had received several wounds from splinters, and was obliged to quit the deck from loss of blood, having seen that the battle was going on favorably; and the Algerines, after fighting extremely well for about five hours, began to slacken their firing.