During that last impressive interview Stewart asked Somers what he would do if discovered and attacked by the enemy.

“Blow us all up together!” was the instant response; “I shall never be taken prisoner.”

I may remark here that no writer has recorded this expression of the gallant Somers, and I give it because Admiral Stewart assured me of its truth.  His recollection of the incident, more than sixty years afterward, was as vivid as on the succeeding day.  Indeed, Stewart, as is often the case with aged persons, remarked that his memory of occurrences a half century old was unerring, while of quite recent incidents it was unreliable.

It was comparatively early in the evening when the ketch got under way with a favoring breeze.  Stewart, with the Siren, by order of Preble, stood toward the northern passage, through which the ketch was to pass.  His purpose was to remain in as close as was safe, and hold himself ready to pick up the men as they returned in their boats.  Stewart turned his night glass toward the Intrepid and watched her slowly fading from sight, until she melted into the gloom and not the slightest trace of her outlines was discernible.

Nothing could be more trying than the waiting of the craft outside, for Somers’ own vessel and two small ones were near at hand.  The stillness was so profound that men heard the suppressed breathing of their comrades.  If one moved, he did so on tiptoe.  Few words were spoken, and all in guarded undertones.  The rippling of the water against the prows and cables was an annoyance, and on more than one forehead great drops of cold perspiration gathered.

Slowly and painfully the long minutes wore away, until it seemed as if several hours had passed, when in reality the interval was but a small part of that period.  Every nerve was in this tense state, when suddenly the boom of a cannon came rolling through the fog from the direction of the city, followed soon by the rapid firing of artillery.  The approach of the Intrepid had been discovered, and it seemed as if all the enemy’s batteries were blazing away at her.  But what of the ketch itself?

Stewart, like all the rest, was peering into the black mist, when he saw a star-like point of light, moving with an up and down motion, in a horizontal line, showing that it was a lantern carried by a man running along the deck of a ship.  Then it dropped out of sight, as if the bearer had leaped down a hatchway.  For a moment all was profound darkness, and then an immense fan-like expanse of flame shot far up into the sky, as if from the crater of a volcano, and was crossed by the curving streaks of fire made by shells in their eccentric flight.  Across the water came the crashing roar of the prodigious explosion, followed a few moments later by the sounds of wreckage and bodies as they dropped into the sea.  Then again impenetrable gloom and profound stillness succeeded.  The batteries on shore were awed into silence by the awful sight, and the waiting friends on the ships held their breath.