The Captain of the Kearsarge was never aware of the Alabama having struck until a boat put off from her to his own vessel. Prisoners subsequently stated that she had fired a lee-gun, but the fact was not known on board the Federal ship, nor that the colours were hauled down in token of surrender. A single fact will prove the humanity with which Captain Winslow conducted the fight. At the close of the action, his deck was found to be literally covered with grape and canister, ready for close quarters; but he had never used a single charge of all this during the contest, although within capital range for employing it. THE FEELING AFTER THE BATTLE. The wounded of the two vessels were transferred shortly after the action to the Naval Hospital at Cherbourg. I paid a visit to that establishment on the Sunday following the engagement, and found the sufferers lying in comfortable beds alongside each other in a long and admirably ventilated ward on the first floor. Poor Gowen, who died the following Tuesday, was in great pain, and already had the seal of death upon his face. James McBeath, a young fellow of apparently twenty years, with a compound fracture of the leg, chatted with much animation; while Dempsey, the stump of his right arm laid on the pillow, was comfortably smoking a cigar, and laughing and talking with one of the Alabama crew, in the bed alongside him. The wounded men of the sunken privateer were unmistakably English in physiognomy, and I failed to discover any who were not countrymen of ours. I conversed with all of them, stating at the outset that I was an Englishman like themselves, and the information seemed to open their hearts to me. They represented themselves as very comfortable at the hospital, that every thing they asked for was given to them, and that they were surprised at the kindness of the Kearsarge men who came to visit the establishment, when they were assured by their own officers before the action that foul treatment would only be shown them in the event of their capture. Condoling with one poor fellow who had his leg carried away by a shell, he remarked to me, "Ah, it serves me right! they won't catch me fighting again without knowing what I'm fighting for." "That's me too," said another poor Englishman alongside of him. The paroled prisoners (four officers) on shore at Cherbourg, evinced no hostility whatever to their captors, but were always on the friendliest of terms with them. All alike frequented the same hotel in the town (curiously enough--"The Eagle,") played billiards at the same _café_, and bought their pipes, cigars, and tobacco from the same pretty little _brunette_ on the _Quai du Port_. The following are the names of the officers and crew of the Alabama, saved by the Kearsarge: