"As we approached the bar, about 4 a. m., we saw the steamer Mercedita lying at anchor a short distance outside it. I had no fear of her seeing our hull; but we were burning soft coal, and the night being very clear, with nearly a full moon, it did seem to me that our smoke, which trailed behind like a huge black serpent, must be visible several miles off. We went silently to quarters, and our main deck presented a scene which will always live in my memory. The men stood quietly at their guns, the port-shutters were closed, not a light could be seen from the outside and the few battle-lanterns lit cast a pale, weird light on the gun-deck. My friend, Phil Porcher, who commanded the bow gun, was equipped with a pair of white kid gloves and had in his mouth an unlighted cigar. As we stood at our stations, not even whispering, the silence became painful. Just at my side I noticed the little powder-monkey of the broadside guns sitting on a match-tub, with his powder pouch slung over his shoulder, fast asleep ; and he was in this condition when the action commenced.
"We crossed the bar and steered directly for the Mercedita. They did not see us until we were very near. The lieutenant on deck then hailed us, and ordered us to keep off or he would fire. We did not reply, and he called to us, 'You will be into me!' Just then we rammed him on the starboard quarter and fired the bow gun. The shell from it, according to Captain Stellwagen, who commanded her, went through her diagonally, penetrating the starboard side, through the condenser, through the steam-drum of the port boiler, and exploded against the port side of the ship, blowing a hole in its exit four or five feet square. She did not fire a gun, and in a minute her commander hailed to say he surrendered. Captain Rutledge then directed him to send a boat alongside. I went out on the after-deck to receive it. The men in it were half dressed and, as they had neglected to put the plug in when it was lowered, the boat was
