The fleet destined for the north bore away from the Downs with a fine leading breeze. It consisted of forty-two ships of war, twenty-two of which were of the line, several frigates, and a forest of transports, on board of which the forces destined to act on shore were embarked: these amounted to twenty thousand effective men, and were under the command of Lord Cathcart, while Admiral Gambier directed the naval operations. After a rough passage, we came in sight of the Danish coast about the middle of August; and early on the morning of the 16th of that month, the debarkation of the troops, under cover of several gun-brigs, commenced. We landed at Wisbeck, a small place in the island of Zealand, about eight miles from Copenhagen. Just before leaving the vessel in which I had sailed, I had a narrow escape. The weather being warm and fine, several of the soldiers and sailors took the advantage of bathing, and I made one of the number. One morning, after having enjoyed this luxury, and just as I was half-dressed, a cry of distress was heard, and on looking over the ship’s side, a sailor, evidently unable to swim, was observed, endeavouring to float on the surface of the water 32by grasping an oar that happened to be within his reach: unfortunately he was unable to retain his hold, and immediately disappeared. The sea was calm, and so remarkably clear, that the spot in which he sank was easily recognised. Not a moment was to be lost; and, being an expert swimmer, I divested myself of the clothing I had put on, and dived after him. On looking about, I saw the poor fellow faintly struggling near the bottom, among some long sedgy weeds: his head being still uppermost, I seized him with one hand by the hair, and with the other was so far able to swim, as to raise both the man and myself to the surface, when on a sudden he fastened on me with a grasp so deadly, that I was incapable of moving hand or foot; and had I not been able to disengage myself, I must inevitably have perished. The struggle between us was terrific, being myself at that time scarcely seventeen years of age, and he a powerful, full-grown man. At length, by a desperate effort, I escaped from his grasp. Deprived of my buoyancy, he sank like a stone. On account of the length of time I had been under water, my preservation was little less than miraculous; indeed, one of the officers, and several of the crew, who witnessed the transaction, had given me up for lost; when to their surprise I again emerged, and was safely taken on board. Thus was I given back to light and life; but was the deliverance wrought by the prowess of my own arm? So I once thought; but the film is taken from my eyes. It was the Lord Who preserved my life, by the agency of His overruling providence. The sea confessed His mighty power, and my days declining like a shadow were graciously renewed. Diligent search was made for the body of the poor man, but without effect: it had, no