Boats were sunk,—oars cut off short at the loom,—and men killed and thrown overboard during the terrible moments they were exposed to a perfect hail of shot from the war junks; but in spite of the shower of missiles, which included copper nails, cash, and links of chain, the gun-boats steadily advanced, and threw shot, shell, and rockets into the enemy with great precision; and although several of them got aground, they managed to get off again, and renewed the fight with greater vigour than before.
Some most gallant acts were performed, and one captain led on his men sword in hand until his boat was sinking under him, when he stepped from it into one that was passing, and, in spite of the deadly storm of missiles which flew around him, coolly tore a strip of blue serge off a sailor's garment, and hoisting the scrap upon a boat-hook, cried, "The blue never surrenders," then again cheered the sailors on to the attack. He had with him in his gig a fine Newfoundland dog, but as the coxswain who attended it, was killed and went down with the boat, the animal would not leave the spot, but was picked up some time afterwards. After a desperate combat, during which a great many men were killed or wounded, one of the junks blew up, and it was soon observed that the rest were endeavouring to move off towards Chow-chan.
The gun-boats finding the range of the junks, which were fast getting aground through the falling of the tide, now kept up a deadly fire with their heavy bow guns; and, after a desperate resistance, the Chow-chan fleet, commanded by one of the most able scholars of the country, was reduced to a mere wreck. Some junks escaped and reached Canton, where Yeh immediately imprisoned their officers for not having thrashed the "red-headed barbarians," but the greater part of the fleet, burnt down to their magazines, then blew up and scattered their timbers all over the creek. The ship's boats approached the burning vessels, and even passed them, in spite of the war rockets piled inside the junks, which would ignite, and tearing through the sides, go flying over the boats, in some cases dropping into them and killing the sailors.
As the Chinese admiral expected a pretty severe engagement, he had ordered that men who had never before been in action were to be chained to their guns, and this command was pretty generally adopted by the captains. When the junks exploded the poor wretches were elevated in batches; and their yells, when they caught fire, were plainly heard by the sailors, who, however, did not seem to be much affected thereby.
Not contented with merely destroying the Chinese fleet, the fire-eating captain who had lost his gig, upon falling in with a few of his own boats, actually pursued some flying junks as far as Chow-chan city, and, mounting a boat's gun upon the wall, coolly declared he took possession of that place. After having terrified a number of the Chow-channers nearly out of their senses and causing the Taontai to almost die with fright, he recalled his men, and returned to the flotilla, which by that time had mustered preparatory to returning.
As they passed down the creek they picked up the dead bodies of those who had been killed and thrown overboard during the action, and having conveyed them alongside H. M. S. Blow-fly, the crew of that ship, after dark, buried them in the mud of the river.
When the flotilla arrived alongside the ships they discharged most of their men to them, and anchored until the next morning, the Stingers being drafted to the Porpoise. They had been all day without taking a regular meal, and were consequently very hungry; but, to their astonishment and disgust, after having smelt the savoury perfume of the soup, which was boiling in her coppers, they with the crew were piped aft to hear the "Thanksgiving after a victory" read by a well-fed clergyman, who had (very properly) "viewed the battle from afar."
There, with the enticing vapour of rich soup steaming from the galley, and rendering them more hungry than before, the grimy, tired, thirsty tars were tortured with a form which might just as well have been gone through after their bodies were refreshed; but the Reverend Mr. Service considered his feelings ought to be consulted before a lot of common sailors, so he had the first innings; and as he prayed the wicked tars did just the reverse, and when the service was over, they were out of temper, the soup burnt, and a general feeling of discontent experienced by all, except the Reverend gentleman, who beat the assistant-surgeon twice running at chess; and, upon retiring to rest, dreamed he was appointed Bishop of Chow-chan, with a large endowment, and permission to live in Paris, or go anywhere but to his See.
Upon their return to the Stinger, her crew learned they were to proceed to Hong-Kong and refit; so within a week of the battle of Chow-chan the whole of them had enjoyed a run on shore in the settlement, and, getting short of money, were quite ready for sea again.
During the vessel's stay in port on this occasion a most interesting event occurred, at which all the Stingers were invited to assist. This was the marriage of Miss Moore, whom they had rescued from the pirates, with a wealthy merchant of Hong-Kong, named Mackay; and on the day of the ceremony the crew, having been granted a holiday, marched to the church, and formed a double line from the door of the sacred edifice.