In the midst of the wild confusion a boat from the Alabama, under charge of the English master’s mate, came alongside, announcing that the Alabama had surrendered and begging for help.  On the promise of this man to return, Winslow allowed him to go back to the aid of the drowning crew, but instead of keeping his pledge, he took refuge on the yacht Deerhound, which was circling about and doing all it could for the struggling wretches in the water.  Among those picked up was Captain Semmes, who had flung his sword into the sea and leaped overboard as his ship was going down.  He was suffering from a painful wound in the hand, and when helped on board of the Deerhound was in an exhausted condition.  The captain of the yacht, after picking up thirty-nine men, including a number of officers, instead of delivering them to Captain Winslow, as he was in honor bound to do, edged away from the scene, and, putting on all steam, did not pause until he reached Southampton.  The Kearsarge picked up the men that remained and took them into Cherbourg.

In this famous battle the Kearsarge had only 1 killed and 2 wounded, while Semmes lost 40 killed and 70 taken prisoners.  The Confederate commander and his sympathizing British friends offered all sorts of excuses for his defeat.  Some of them were ingenious, but none was the true one.  The cause of the sinking of the Alabama was the same as that which gave us so many wonderful naval victories in the War of 1812.  Our vessels were manned by Americans, while the Alabama was really an English ship, armed with English guns and manned and fought by an English crew:  there’s the truth in a nutshell.

Captain Winslow received the promotion to the grade of a commodore which he had so gallantly won.  He died in 1873.  It was a source of regret throughout the country that on the night of February 2, 1894, the Kearsarge was wrecked off Roncador Reef, while on a voyage from Port-au-Prince, Hayti, to Bluefields, Nicaragua.  None of her crew was drowned, but the vessel itself was lost, despite every effort to save her.

CHAPTER XXVII.

An Unexpected Preacher—­Andrew Hull Foote—­His Character and Early Career—­His Brilliant Services in the War for the Union.

One Sunday morning early in the Civil War a large assemblage had gathered in a prominent church in a Western city for the purpose of worship.  But the hour for opening the services came and passed and the preacher, the one indispensable individual, did not appear.  The auditors became uneasy.  No one knew the cause of his absence and no word came from the parsonage, which was at some distance from the church.  When the congregation were about to break up and pass out a stranger, sitting near the front, quietly arose, walked up the pulpit steps, gave out the opening hymn, led in prayer and preached a sermon which impressed all by its plain, practical truths.  He held the attention of the people from the opening to the close, and among the listeners were more than one who felt that the unexplained absence of the regular pastor had resulted in a gain, though a brief one, for them.