My first lieutenant, David Hope, was severely wounded in the head, towards the close of the battle, and taken below; but was soon again on deck, displaying that greatness of mind and exertion, which, though it may be equalled, can never be excelled. The third lieutenant, John Bulford, was also wounded, but not obliged to quit his quarters; second lieutenant, Samuel Mottley, and he deserves my highest acknowledgments. The cool and steady conduct of Mr. Walker, the master, was very great during the battle, as also that of Lieutenants Wilson and Magill, of the marines. On being taken on board the enemy’s ship, I ceased to wonder at the result of the battle. The _United States_ is built with the scantling of a seventy-four gun-ship, mounting thirty long twenty-four pounders (English ship-guns) on her main deck, and twenty-two forty-two pounders, carronades, with two long twenty-four pounders, on her quarter deck and forecastle, howitzer guns in her tops, and a travelling carronade on her upper deck, with a complement of four hundred and seventy-eight picked men. The enemy has suffered much in masts, rigging, and hull, above and below water. Her loss in killed and wounded I am not aware of; but I know a lieutenant and six men have been thrown overboard. JNO. S. CARDEN. To J. W. CROKER, Esq., Admiralty.” Lord Churchill sent the above letter, with a list of the killed and wounded annexed, to inform my mother that the name of her son was not among the number. The act shows how much he could sympathize with a mother’s feelings. CHAPTER VII I now went below, to see how matters appeared there. The first object I met was a man bearing a limb, which had just been detached from some suffering wretch. Pursuing my way to the ward-room, I necessarily passed through the steerage, which was strewed with the wounded: it was a sad spectacle, made more appalling by the groans and cries which rent the air. Some were groaning, others were swearing most bitterly, a few were praying, while those last arrived were begging most piteously to have their wounds dressed next. The surgeon and his mate were smeared with blood from head to foot: they looked more like butchers than doctors. Having so many patients, they had once shifted their quarters from the cockpit to the steerage; they now removed to the ward-room, and the long table, round which the officers had sat over many a merry feast, was soon covered with the bleeding forms of maimed and mutilated seamen.[11] While looking round the ward-room, I heard a noise above, occasioned by the arrival of the boats from the conquering frigate. Very soon a lieutenant, I think his name was Nicholson,[12] came into the ward-room, and said to the busy surgeon, “How do you do, doctor?”