surrender, escape or no
escape,'--on a kind of parole, I suppose he meant. I wrote on the
board: 'First capture, then parole,' This answer vexed him, I am sure,
for he immediately wrote: 'Surrender, or I will sink you.' I wrote:
'That would be murder, not battle.'--'Call it what you will, I will do
it,' he wrote. 'Attempt it, and by the living God, I will run you
down, and we will sink together,' I wrote in reply. I knew his threat
was vain; for in that heavy sea, rolling his rails under, he did not
dare to free his guns, which were already double lashed. They would
have carried away their tackles, and gone through the bulwarks
overboard. Conscious that he had made empty threats, we said no more,
but doggedly kept on our course. Sail was still further reduced on
both vessels, as the wind kept increasing and was now blowing a gale.
We were now gradually and surely drawing ahead of the steamer. It was
growing dark. Rejoicing at my fortunate escape, I gave the valiant
Semmes a parting shot by hoisting the signal 'Good-by.' Dipping the
star-spangled banner as a salute, I hauled it down, and the steamer
was soon lost to sight in the darkness.... I never saw her after our
escape; but, indirectly, she forced me to sell my ship in China soon
after."

But we cannot follow the "Alabama" in her career about the world. A
full account of her captures would fill volumes; and in this narrative
we must pass hastily by the time that she spent scouring the ocean,
dodging United States men-of-war, and burning Northern merchantmen,
until, on the 11th of June, she entered the harbor of Cherbourg,
France, and had hardly dropped anchor when the United States
man-of-war "Kearsarge" appeared outside, and calmly settled down to
wait for the Confederate to come out and fight. Capt. Semmes seemed
perfectly ready for the conflict, and began getting his ship in shape
for the battle. The men, too, said that they had had a "plum-pudding
voyage" of it so far, and they were perfectly ready for a fight. The
forecastle poet was set to work, and soon ground out a song, of which
the refrain was,--

"We're homeward bound, we're homeward bound!
And soon shall stand on English ground;
But, ere our native land we see,
We first must fight the 'Kearsargee.'"

This was the last song made on board the "Alabama," and the poet was
never more seen after the fight with the "Kearsargee."

[Illustration: Rescue of Capt. Semmes.]

The "Kearsarge" had ha