Christy rallied his men as soon as they had done their work in the
vicinity of the thirty-pounder, and ordered them to join their division
under the command of the third lieutenant. But the seamen on the part of
the Confederates seemed to be dispirited to some extent by the bad
beginning they had made, and by the heap of slain near them. Captain
Rombold lay upon the deck, propped up against the mizzen mast. He looked
as pale as death itself; but he was still directing the action, giving
orders to his first lieutenant. Two of his officers were near him, but
both of them appeared to be severely wounded.
The battle was raging with fearful energy on the part of the loyal tars,
and with hardly less vigor on the part of the enemy, though the latter
fought in a sort of desperate silence. The wounded commander was doing
his best to reinspire them; but his speech was becoming feeble, and
perhaps did more to discourage than to strengthen them.
At this stage of the action Graines, closely followed by his twenty men,
sprang over the starboard bulwarks, and fell upon the enemy in the rear.
Finding themselves between an enemy in front and rear, they could do no
more; for it was sure death to remain where they were, and they fled
precipitately to the forecastle.
"Quarter!" shouted these men, and the same cry came from the other parts
of the deck.
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