THE ACTION WITH A PRIVATEER STEAMER
Christy had made up his lost sleep. On the first day out he had taken
Captain Lonley's word that he would not interfere with anything on
board, and had then given him a berth in the ward room, where he messed
with the officers. Captain Rowly had also been taken on board, and as he
was a captain in the Confederate army, innocent as he was, he demanded
similar accommodations. His request was granted, but Christy decided to
leave him at Key West, for the ward room was full.
The fleet continued on its voyage after the call at the Florida port,
and was soon in the Gulf Stream. It was an exceedingly quiet time in the
little fleet of vessels, though the drill on board of the Vixen was
closely followed up. On the second day they had a mild gale, and the
schooners were cast off, and towed astern, one behind the other.
Then the weather was fine again, though the sea was still too rough for
the Havana and the Aleppo to tow the prizes alongside. Christy observed
the drill a great deal of the time, and Bertha Pembroke was often his
companion. He told her all about vessels in the navy, explained actions
at sea, but hoped she would not be permitted to see one.
Then he related to her the experience of the Bellevite as a yacht and
_as_ a naval vessel, and no one ever had a more attentive listener.
He could not conceal it from himself that he was deeply interested in
the young lady, and observers would have said that she was not less
interested in him. On the fifth day out from Key West, while they were
thus agreeably occupied, there was a hail from the fore rigging.
"Sail, ho!" shouted the lookout on the fore crosstrees, where the
prudence of the commander required a hand to be stationed at all times,
day and night.
"Where away?" called Scopfield, the third lieutenant, who was the
officer of the deck.
"Broad on the starboard bow," replied the lookout.
"Can you make it out?"
"A steamer, sir; black smoke behind her," responded the lookout.
Mr. Fillbrook had joined the third lieutenant by this time, and the
former reported to the captain. Christy had heard all that had passed,
and he immediately began to feel a heavy anxiety in regard to the sail.
"What do you think of her, Mr. Fillbrook?" he asked, after the executive
officer had reported to him.
"There are so many steamers coming over from British ports about this
time, bound to Confederate ports, that it is not very difficult to guess
what she is," replied the first lieutenant. "She is either a blockade
runner, or a steamer fitted out to prey upon the commerce of the United
States."
"That seems to be plain enough; and from the position in which we find
her, she has come out of the Bermudas, or is bound there," added the
commander. "Bring my glass from my state room," he continued to his
cabin steward, who was sunning himself on the deck.
When it was brought, the captain and the executive officer went forward
and mounted the top-gallant forecastle. Mr. Fillbrook procured a glass
from the pilot house, and both of them looked long and earnestly at the
speck in the distance. The steamer was hull down, and they soon agreed
that she was bound to the eastward.
"We have no business with her at present," said Christy, as he shut up
his glass.
"But I have no doubt she has already run the blockade, and came out of
Wilmington or Savannah. If that is the case, she must be loaded with
cotton, which contains a fortune at the present time within a small
compass," replied Mr. Fillbrook, who had not been as fortunate as some
others in the matter of prizes.
"Very likely," replied Christy, rather coldly, his companion thought.
"I do not think I should be justified in giving chase to her, which
could only be done by abandoning the convoy."
"Could we not pick up the convoy after we had captured the steamer?"
asked the first lieutenant.
"Yes, if some Confederate cruiser does not pick it up in our absence,"
replied Christy, with a significant smile.
Mr. Fillbrook was evidently very much disappointed, not to say
disgusted, with the decision of Captain Passford; but he was too good an
officer to make a complaint, or utter a comment. The ship's company had
become somewhat excited when it was announced that a sail, with black
smoke painting a long streak on the blue sky, was made out. If it was a
blockade runner, with a cargo of cotton, it meant a small fortune to
each officer, seaman, and others on board.
The new commander had a reputation as a daring leader, and the hopes of
the officers and men ran high. They waited eagerly to have the steamer
headed to the eastward; but no such order was given, and the chins of
all hands began to drop down.
Christy had no interest in the money value of a prize, and yet he could
understand the feeling of his ship's company. He was an heir of a
millionaire, and he had no occasion to trouble his head about the
profits of a capture. He looked at the question from a purely patriotic
point of view, and every prize secured was so much taken from the
resources of the enemy.
He saw the disappointment painted on the face of the first lieutenant,
and he went to his cabin to consider his duty again, and review the
reasoning that had influenced him; but he came to the conclusion he had
reached in the beginning. He was in charge of six vessels loaded with
cotton, and the ship's company of the Bronx and other vessels had an
interest in their cargoes. The Vixen was less than a hundred and fifty
miles from the coast, and a tug boat, with a bow gun and a crew of
twenty-five, could come out and capture the whole fleet without the
least difficulty. The risk was too great, and the commander was as firm
as a rock.
The next morning, before it was daylight, Mr. Bangs the second
lieutenant, who had the mid watch, sent a messenger to the commander
to inform him that a sail was made out, which appeared to be a steamer,
on the starboard bow, very broad, nearly on the beam. Christy dressed
himself in a great hurry, and hastened on deck. It was beginning to be a
little light, and the steamer appeared to be about five miles to the
eastward of the Vixen, and was headed towards her.
Christy at once concluded that the vessel meant mischief, and he
promptly gave the order to beat to quarters. He thought it must be the
steamer seen the day before, as she could hardly be a blockade runner
for the reason that she was headed towards the fleet. If she desired to
break through the blockading squadron, she would be likely to keep as
far as possible from anything that might be an armed vessel.
Christy went to his state room to write an order for Mr. Amblen in the
Havana, which was hardly a cable's length from the Vixen on the port
side, the Aleppo being ahead of her. He had already given his general
orders to the prize masters, but this was a special one. In the cabin he
found Bertha, who had been awakened by the tramping of the men on deck.
"Pray what is the matter, Captain Passford?" she asked, evidently
somewhat alarmed.
"Nothing is the matter yet, Miss Pembroke, but something may be the
matter within an hour or two, for there is a sail making for us,"
replied Christy with the smile he always wore when she spoke to him, or
he to her. "In other words there may be an action, for I must defend my
convoy."
"Is there any danger?" she inquired.
"Of course there is, for a shot may come through the side of the ship
anywhere and at any time. But I have thought of this matter, and I
propose to put you and your father on board of the Havana until after
the danger is passed. Be kind enough to get ready as soon as possible."
Christy wrote his order, and hastened on deck with it. Hailing the
Havana, he ordered the prize-master to send a boat on board. When it
came the two passengers were embarked in it and the order sent. The
commander did not wait a moment to watch the receding form of the
maiden, but immediately directed his attention to the steamer
approaching the Vixen.
"Run for that steamer, Mr. Fillbrook," said he, after his first glance.
"Make the course east by north, Mr. Bangs," added the first lieutenant.
"East by north," repeated the quartermaster at the wheel when the order
reached him.
"I have just been aloft, and she flies the Confederate flag, Captain
Passford," said Mr. Fillbrook. "She is a large steamer, and she is by no
means as jaunty as the Vixen."
Both steamers were going at full speed, and it required but a short time
to bring them near enough together for something to happen. She was well
down in the water, and appeared as though she might be loaded with
something besides the appliances of a man-of-war. She looked as though
she might be twice as large as the Vixen, and it was soon evident that
her speed was nothing to boast of. She certainly was not one of the
high-flyer yachts which had been bought up for service in the
Confederate navy.
When the two vessels were not more than a mile apart, a column of smoke
rose from her waist, as she swung around so that her great gun could be
brought to bear, and a shot dropped into the water at least an eighth of
a mile short of the Vixen.
"Thank you, sir!" exclaimed Christy. "Half speed, if you please, Mr.
Fillbrook."
The commander went to the long English gun in the waist, to which he had
already given a great deal of study, and sighted along the heavy piece.
He had not forgotten when he pointed the gun on board of the Bellevite,
the shot from which had disabled the Vampire, and he had some confidence
in his ability to put a shot where he wished it to go, for he had
brought all his mathematics and all his physics to bear on the matter,
though the best gunners must sometimes fail. When he was ready he gave
the word to fire. The ship was shaken by the heavy report, and every one
waited with peculiar interest for the smoke to clear away, because the
captain had pointed the gun.
Christy had ordered the screw to be stopped, and had waited till the
steamer lost her headway. She rolled but slightly, and he had allowed
for everything. Glasses were in demand, and a moment later there was a
shout went up from the men at the gun, followed by another from the rest
of the crew. The shot had upset the great gun on the deck of the enemy.
She was swinging round, and beginning to fire her broadside guns, but
the shots came nowhere near the Vixen. Christy did not believe there was
any naval officer on board of that steamer.
"Keep up the fire with the long gun, Mr. Fillbrook," said the commander,
in a low tone, and with no excitement apparent in his manner, for he
always studied and labored to appear cool and self-possessed, whether he
was so or not, and there was nothing in the present situation to try him
in the least.
For a full hour the long gun of the Vixen continued to pelt the enemy
with solid shot, about every one of them hulling her or carrying away
some of her spars. Her mainmast had gone by the board, and the
resistance she was making was becoming very feeble.
"She is full of men, Captain Passford," said Mr. Fillbrook, when the
steamer seemed to be almost a wreck.
"I observed that she had a large crew some time ago, and it is better to
knock her to pieces than to board her," replied Christy. "Keep her as
far off as she is now."
The enemy tried to get nearer to the Vixen, but failed to do so.