This sickening carnage might have lasted five minutes longer, had not the Confederate squadron sunk in consequence of the gimlet-hole. Down went the doomed craft of unblest treason, and in another moment the officer and crew of her were in the water, which reached nearly to their knees, imploring our fleet not to let them drown.
Oh, that sight! the thrilling yet terrifying and agonizing grandeur of that dreadful moment! shall I ever forget it—ever cease to hear those cries ringing in mine ears? I'm afraid not, my boy—I'm afraid not.
The Commodore rescued the sufferers from a watery grave; and having been privately informed by them that the South might be conquered, but never overcome, brought them ashore by the collars.
Need I describe how our noble old nautical sea-dog was received by the Mackerel Brigade? need I tell how the band whipped out his key-bugle and played all the triumphant airs of our distracted country, and several original cavatinas?
But, alas! my boy, this iron-plate business is taking all the romance out of the navy. How different is the modern from
THE ANCIENT CAPTAIN.
The smiles of an evening were shed on the sea,
And its wave-lips laughed through their beardings of foam;
And the eyes of an evening were mirrored beneath
The shroud of the ship and her home.