But when I entered the cockpit, stumbling over the wounded, and came to the surgeon's assistants, I own I was unnerved a little, for I found them busily employed taking our old Quartermaster's right arm out of the socket, whose only son, well known to me, I had just seen broken to pieces by a round shot which dashed him into the gun he was serving. "Is my boy doing well, sir?" he gasped in a low agonised voice. "I hope so," I answered reverently, and I felt fit to choke, and the old man groaned heavily. He suspected the truth from the tone of my voice. "Pour a glass of Madeira down his throat," said the surgeon: "he is sinking fast." The complication of noises in this den of misery, from the shrill cry from agonised youth to the deep and hollow groan of death, the imprecations of some and the prayers of others, the roaring of the guns, and the hopes and fears that pervaded the wounded, formed a very shocking scene, and is still deeply impressed on my memory. But nothing shocked me so much as the cold hard voice of the surgeon: "I am too busy to count the wounded--say the cockpit is full, and some bad cases." I took this to the Admiral, who was back on the poop, with men and spars dropping all round him. He took no notice of me: all he said was, "I think their fire slackens, Mr. Vassall," addressing one of our lieutenants. "I am sure of it, sir: many of the crew have deserted their guns." He was not, it must be observed, talking of the _Aquilon_, the ship which had dealt us such awful mischief, but of the _Spartiate_, which we were engaging. He took no notice of the _Aquilon_: we hardly returned a gun to her. "Louis will see to that," he said (Captain Louis was of the _Minotaur_, the next in our line): "I am engaging the _Spartiate_ till she strikes." Down came the tricoloured flag, and "Cease firing" resounded all along our decks. Our Captain himself had but half a cocked hat, the other half having been carried off by a round shot that entered his cabin when he had gone to serve out something to a couple of seamen, and drenched it with their blood. Mr. Galwey, our First, and a party of marines, were sent to take possession. Before this the fire of the _Aquilon_ had slackened off, for the _Minotaur_, which had engaged her, gave her such a terrible yard-to-yard gruelling that the heart was taken out of her fighting. This was fortunate, for we had to send for her captain to receive a dying message from the Admiral, who wished to thank him for the way he had saved our ship by laying himself alongside of the _Aquilon_. We could not have stood that raking many minutes longer. I have not described the mighty exploits of our captains who conquered the French centre as such should be chronicled, for we of the flagship were confronted with an event before which any other incident of the battle seemed but of small importance, for the Admiral was struck down, as we feared, mortally wounded.