tops.  To read his own account, you would almost think he fought the battle himself with his three quarter-deck cannon, and I suppose it would be hard to overstate what he did do.  Both he and Captain Pearson ascribe the final capture of the Serapis to this strange incident.

“The men in the Richard’s tops were throwing hand-grenades upon our decks, and at last one fellow worked himself out to the end of the main-yard with a bucket filled with these missiles, lighted them one by one, and threw them fairly down our main hatchway.  Here, as our ill luck ordered, was a row of our eighteen-gun cartridges, which the powder-boys had left there as they went for more,—­our fire, I suppose, having slackened there:—­cartridges were then just coming into use in the navy.  One of these grenades lighted the row, and the flash passed—­bang—­bang—­bang—­back to me.  Oh, it was awful!  Some twenty of our men were fairly blown to pieces.  There were other men who were stripped naked, with nothing on but the collars of their shirts and their wristbands.  Farther aft there was not so much powder, perhaps, and the men were scorched or burned more than they were wounded.  I do not know how I escaped, but I do know that there was hardly a man forward of my guns who did escape,—­some hurt,—­and the groaning and shrieking were terrible.  I will not ask you to imagine all this,—­in the utter darkness of smoke and night below-decks, almost every lantern blown out or smashed.  But I assure you I can remember it.  There were agonies there which I have never trusted my tongue to tell.  Yet I see, in my journal, in a boy’s mock-man way, this is passed by, as almost nothing.  I did not think so or feel so, I can tell you.

“It was after this that the effort was made to board.  I know I had filled some buckets of water from our lee ports, and had got some of the worst hurt of my men below, and was trying to understand what Brooks, who was jammed, but not burned, thought we could do, to see if we could not at least clear things enough to fight one gun, when boarders were called, and he left me.  Cornish, who had really been captain of the other gun, was badly hurt, and had gone below.  Then came the effort to board, which, as I say, failed; and that was really our last effort.  About half-past ten, Captain Pearson struck.  He was not able to bring a gun to bear on the Alliance, had she closed with us; his ship had been on fire a dozen times, and the explosion had wholly disabled our main battery, which had been, until this came, our chief strength.  But so uncertain and confused was it all, that I know, when I heard the cry, ‘They’ve struck,’ I took it for granted it was the Richard.  In fact, Captain Pearson had struck our flag with his own hands.  The men would not expose themselves to the fire from the Richard’s tops.  Mr. Mayrant, a fine young fellow, one of Jones’s midshipmen, was wounded in boarding us after we struck, because