One shot
struck under the counter, penetrating as far as a timber, then
glancing off; a second struck the funnel; a third going through
the side across the berth-deck, and into the opposite side; another
raising the deuce in the lamp room; the others lodging in the
coal-bunkers. Taking a shell up and examining it, we found it
filled with sand instead of powder. The enemy's fire was directed
chiefly towards our stern, the shots flying pretty quick over
the quarter-deck, near to where our Captain was standing. As
they came whizzing over him, he, with his usual coolness, would
exclaim--"Give it to the rascals!"--"Aim low, men!"--"Don't
be all night sinking that fellow!" when for all or anything we knew,
she might have been an iron-clad or a ram.
On Commander Blake surrendering his sword, he said that
"it was with deep regret he did it." Captain Semmes smacked
his lips and invited him down to his cabin. On Blake giving his
rank to Captain Semmes, he gave up his state-room for Blake's
special use, the rest of the officers being accommodated according
to their rank in the wardroom and steerages, all having previously
been paroled, the crew being placed on the berth-deck, our
men sleeping anywhere, so that the prisoners might take their
places. Of the enemy's loss we could obtain no correct accounts,
a difference of seventeen being in their number of killed, the
Hatteras having on board men she was going to transfer to other
ships.
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