expressions of joy to the victors at the result, such as only those who had suffered from the depredations of the Alabama could give utterance to. Many were desirous to go on board the Kearsarge to participate in the action, but so strictly was the neutrality law observed, no intercourse was allowed.

The Alabama's wounded were brought on board the Kearsarge for surgical attendance. Seventy persons, including five officers, were saved by the boats. The conduct of Dr. Llewellyn, native of Wales, Assistant Surgeon of the Alabama, deserves mention. He was unremitting in attention to the wounded during the battle, and after the surrender, superintended their removal to the Kearsarge, nobly refusing to leave the ship while one remained. This humane duty performed, with inability to swim, he caused two empty shell boxes to be attached to his waist, an improvised life-preserver, and thus prepared leaped overboard. In the hurried adjustment of the shell boxes, sufficient care was not taken to maintain the center of gravity, the unfortunate gentleman failed to keep his head above water, and before aid could be derived from his struggling comrades, he was dead.

At 3.10 P.M. the Kearsarge anchored in Cherbourg harbor; the wounded were transferred the same evening to the Hôpital la Marine, and all the prisoners, officers excepted, were paroled and set on shore before sunset. The crew of both vessels harmonized after the fight, the conquerors sharing their clothes, supper, and grog with the conquered.

The total casualties of the Alabama are not known, estimated at forty-seven—a striking contrast to the three of the Kearsarge. Two of these three recovered; one, the brave Gowin, died in hospital. The behavior of this gallant sailor during and after the battle, as described by the Executive Officer and Surgeon, is worthy of the highest commendation. Stationed at the after-pivot gun, by the explosion of a shell, he was seriously wounded in the left thigh and leg; in the agony of pain, and exhausted from the loss of blood, he dragged himself to the forward hatch, concealing the severity of injury, that his comrades might not leave their stations for his assistance: fainting, he was lowered to the care of the surgeon, whom poor Gowin, in acuteness of suffering, greeted with a smile, saying: "Doctor, I can fight no more and so come to you, but it is all right, I am satisfied, for we are whipping the Alabama;" and subsequently: "I will willingly lose my leg or my life if it is necessary." Lying upon his mattress he paid strict attention to the progress of the fight, as far as could be elicited by the sounds on deck—his face beaming with satisfaction whenever the cheers of his shipmates were heard; with difficulty he waved his hand over his head and joined in each exulting shout with a feeble voice. At times he would comfort the other wounded by an earnest assurance that "victory is ours!" Directly after the fight he desired the surgeon to render him no further attention, for he was "doing well," requesting that all his time should be devoted to the "poor fellows of the Alabama." In the hospital he was resigned, thankful for being the only victim, proud of his ship and shipmates, frequently asserting his willingness to die after so glorious a victory. "This man, so interesting by his courage and resignation," wrote the French surgeon-in-chief, with uniform patience and cheerfulness, enlisted general sympathy; all anxiously desired his recovery and sincerely regretted his decease. Certainly one of the most interesting events of the action is the heroic conduct of the brave Gowin.

An incident that ever