Very curious was the contrast afforded by this scene with the enthusiasm that had preceded, and the gallant, dashing, reckless career that followed it. These men who thus stood out for the last sixpence they could hope to wring from their employer’s necessity, were the same who subsequently dashed blindfold into the action with the Hatteras, and later yet, steamed quietly out of a safe harbour with a disabled ship, to meet an enemy in perfect trim and of superior force, and as their shattered vessel sank beneath their feet, crowded round the very captain with whom the hard bargain had been driven, imploring him not to yield.
Finally, the bargaining resulted in the shipping of a crew, all told, of eighty men; a larger number, perhaps, than Captain Semmes had himself anticipated, but still not so many by at least twenty-five as were required for properly manning and fighting the vessel. With these, however, the Captain was fain to be content, trusting to volunteers from future prizes to complete his complement. A hard evening’s work followed in preparing allotments of pay to be sent home to the sailors’ wives, and also in paying their advance wages, and sending small drafts for them to agents in Liverpool. It was not till 11 P.M. that this task was completed, and then Captains Bullock and Butcher took a final farewell of the ship, and returned on board the Bahama, which with the remainder of the two crews steamed away for Liverpool, and the Confederate cruiser was left alone upon the wide ocean, and had fairly started on her adventurous career.
No sooner had the two steamers parted company than sail was made on board the Alabama. The fires were let down, fore and main topsails were set, the ship’s head turned to the N.E., and by midnight Captain Semmes was able to leave the deck, and thoroughly worn out with the day’s excitement and exertions, turn in to an uneasy berth in search of a few hours’ repose.