CHAPTER I.

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[Illustration: Somers and the Admiral.]

[Illustration: BRAVE OLD SALT.

OLIVER OPTIC.

LEE & SHEPARD. BOSTON.]

BRAVE OLD SALT;

OR,

LIFE ON THE QUARTER DECK.

A Story of the Great Rebellion.

BY

OLIVER OPTIC,

Author of "THE SOLDIER BOY," "THE SAILOR BOY," "THE YOUNG

LIEUTENANT," "THE YANKEE MIDDY," "FIGHTING JOE," "THE WOODVILLE

STORIES," "THE RIVERDALE STORY BOOKS," ETC., ETC.

BOSTON:

LEE AND SHEPARD,

SUCCESSORS TO PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO.

1866.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by

WILLIAM T. ADAMS,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of

Massachusetts.

ELECTROTYPED AT THE

_Boston Stereotype Foundry_,

No. 4 Spring Lane.

TO

SAMUEL C. PERKINS, ESQ.,

This Book

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,

BY HIS FRIEND

WILLIAM T. ADAMS.

PREFACE.

This volume, the sixth and last of "THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES," is a

record of "Life on the Quarter Deck," mostly in the squadron of Vice

Admiral Farragut, one of whose familiar appellations, used in the

ward-room and on the berth deck, has furnished the leading title of the

book. The terrible war which devastated our country for four years has

given to history two generals, Grant and Sherman, and one admiral,

Farragut, whose achievements are unsurpassed, if they are equalled, in

the annals of military and naval warfare; but while the author, in this

work, has gratefully rendered his tribute of admiration to the

distinguished naval commander, he has not attempted to present a

complete biography of him.

Those who have read the preceding volumes of this series need hardly be

told that this is a book of adventure--of personal experience in the

great struggle of the nineteenth century. Jack Somers, "The Sailor Boy,"

Mr. Somers, "The Yankee Middy," and Captain Somers, Lieutenant

Commanding, are the same person; though often as he changes his official

position, he is still the same honest, true, and Christian young man.

In our completed sixth volume we take leave of the Somers family with

many regrets. If our young friends in the army and navy had been less

true, noble, and Christian, we could have parted with less sorrow. Yet

the army and navy, as they crushed the Rebellion, have given us many

young men just as true, just as noble and Christian. Let us gratefully

cherish these living heroes, and they will not pass away from us "like a

tale that is told."

To the readers, young and old, who have perseveringly followed my heroes

through the two thousand pages of this series, I am even more than

grateful; for I feel that they have sympathized with me in my desire to

present a lofty ideal to the young man of to-day--one who will be true

to God, true to himself, and true to his country, in whatever sphere his

lot may be cast, whether on the forecastle or the quarter deck; as a

private or an officer, in the great army which must ever battle with

life's trials and temptations till the crown immortal be won.

WILLIAM T. ADAMS.

HARRISON SQUARE, MASS., March 13, 1866.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

I. LIEUTENANT PILLGRIM.

II. WAITING FOR THE SHIP.

III. THE WOUNDED SAILOR.

IV. THE FRONT CHAMBER.

V. SOMERS COMES TO HIS SENSES.

VI. LIEUTENANT WYNKOOP, R. N.

VII. LANGDON'S LETTERS.

VIII. THE UNITED STATES STEAMER CHATAUQUA.

IX. IN THE STATE-ROOM.

X. THE CHIEF CONSPIRATOR.

XI. AFTER GENERAL QUARTERS.

XII. THE BEN NEVIS.

XIII. A CONFLICT OF AUTHORITY.

XIV. THE PRIZE STEAMER.

XV. THE PRISONER IN THE CABIN.

XVI. CAPTAIN WALMSLEY.

XVII. OFF MOBILE BAY.

XVIII. BRAVE OLD SALT.

XIX. THE BOAT EXPEDITION.

XX. THE PICKET BOAT.

XXI. THE BEN LOMOND.

XXII. RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.

XXIII. A YANKEE TRICK.

XXIV. PILLGRIM AND LANGDON.

XXV. THE BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY.

XXVI. IN THE HOSPITAL.

XXVII. MISS PORTINGTON NOT AT HOME.

XXVIII. THE BEN LEDI.

XXIX. A LONG CHASE.

XXX. THE END OF THE REBELLION.

BRAVE OLD SALT.

BRAVE OLD SALT; OR, LIFE ON THE QUARTER DECK.

CHAPTER I.

LIEUTENANT PILLGRIM.

"Well, Prodigy, I congratulate you on your promotion. I even agree with

your enthusiastic admirers, who say that no young man better deserves

his advancement than you," said Miss Kate Portington, standing in the

entry of her father's house at Newport, holding Mr. Ensign John Somers

by the hand.

"Thank you, Miss Portington," replied the young officer, with a blush

caused as much by the excitement of that happy moment, as by the

handsome compliment paid by the fair girl, who, we are compelled to

acknowledge, had formed no inconsiderable portion of the young man's

thoughts, hopes, and aspirations during the preceding year.

John Somers had been examined by the board of naval officers appointed

for the purpose, had been triumphantly passed, and promoted to the rank

he now held. A short furlough had been granted to him, and he had just

come from Pinchbrook, where he had spent a week. A visit to Newport was

now almost as indispensable as one to the home of his childhood, and on

his way to join the ship to which he had been ordered, he paused to

discharge this pleasing duty.

Ensign Somers was dressed in a new uniform, and a certain boyish look,

for which he was partly indebted to the short jacket he had worn as a

midshipman, had vanished. Perhaps Miss Portington felt that the

pertness, not to say impudence, with which she had formerly treated him,

though allowable, under a liberal toleration, towards a boy, would

hardly be justifiable in her intercourse with a young man. Though, from

the force of habit, she called him "Prodigy," there was a certain

maidenly reserve in her manner, which rather puzzled Somers, and he

could not help asking himself what he had done to cause this slight

chill in her tones and actions.

Undoubtedly it was the frock coat which produced this refrigerating

effect; but it was a very elegant and well-fashioned garment, having the

shoulder straps on which glistened the "foul anchor," indicating his new

rank, and each sleeve being adorned with a single gold band on the

cuff, also indicative of his new position. The cap, which he now held in

his hand, was decorated with a band of gold lace, and bore on its front

the appropriate naval emblem. In strict accordance with the traditions

of the navy, he wore kid gloves, without which a naval officer, on a

ceremonial occasion, would be as incomplete as a ship without a rudder.

We have no means of knowing what Mr. Ensign Somers thought of himself in

his "new rig," which certainly fitted with admirable nicety, and gave

him an appearance of maturity which he did not possess when we last saw

him on the quarter deck of the Rosalie. We will venture to assert,

however, that he felt like a man, and fully believed that he was one--a

commendable sentiment in a person of his years, inasmuch as, if he feels

like a man, he is the more likely to act like one. As we can hardly

suppose he soared above all the vanities of his impressible period of

life, it is more than probable that he regarded himself as a very good

looking young fellow; which brilliant suggestion was, no doubt, wholly

or in part due to the new uniform he wore.

If not wholly above the weakness of a young man of twenty, possibly he

had a great deal of confidence in his own knowledge and ability,

regarded some of the veterans of the navy as "old fogies," and looked

upon his own father as "a slow coach." But we must do Mr. Somers the

justice to say that he tried to be humble in his estimate of himself,

and to bear the honors he had won with meekness; that he endeavored to

crush down and mortify that overweening self-sufficiency which distorts

and disfigures the character of many estimable young men. His native

bashfulness had, in some measure, been overcome by his intercourse with

the world, and the humility of his nature, though occasionally assaulted

by the accident of a new coat and an extra supply of gold lace, or by

the hearty commendations of his superiors, was genuine, and, in the

main, saved him from the besetting sin of his years.

Standing in the presence of Miss Kate Portington, after an absence of

several months, wearing a new coat glittering with the laurels he had

won on the bloodstained decks of the nation's ships, he would have been

more than human if he had not felt proud of what he was, and what he had

done--proud, not vain. He was happy, holding the hand of her who had

occupied so large a place in his thoughts, and whose image had fringed

with roseate hues his brightest hopes and strongest aspirations.

Kate was not so free with him as she had been, and her reserve annoyed

and perplexed him. He had anticipated a much warmer welcome than that

which greeted him on his arrival. He was slightly disappointed, though

there was nothing in her manner for which he could have reproached her,

even if their relations had been more intimate than they were. She was

less stormy, but still gentle and kind; a little more distant in manner,

though her looks and words assured him she regarded him with

undiminished interest. Had he known that the elegant frock coat he wore

produced the chill in the lady which so vexed and disconcerted him, he

would willingly have exchanged it for the short jacket in which he had

won his promotion.

They were standing in the entry. When the servant admitted Mr. Somers,

Kate had heard his voice, and perhaps from prudential motives--for there

was a visitor in the parlor--she had preferred to meet him in the hall.

"You have been very fortunate, Mr. Somers," added she, gently releasing

her hand from that of the ensign.

Mr. Somers, instead of "Prodigy"!

"I have. I don't deserve my promotion, I know; but I could not help

taking it when it was within my reach," replied Somers; and her words,

though so slightly chilled that the frigid tone could not have been

noticed by any one who did not expect an unreasonable warmth, took half

the conceit out of him, and let him down a long reach from the high

hopes and brilliant expectations with which he had looked forward to

this meeting.

"On the contrary, Mr. Somers, I think you deserve even more than you

have received."

"Thank you, Miss Portington; you were always more lavish of kind words

than I deserved."

"Why, Prodigy--"

She suddenly checked herself. It was evident to Somers that she intended

to say something pert or saucy. Perhaps she choked down the impertinent

words from the fear that the honorable secretary of the navy, if such

wild and wayward young ladies as herself were permitted to contaminate

the plushy air of Newport society, would remove the Naval Academy back

to Annapolis, where it is better to be "proper" than to be loyal.

"You were about to say something, Miss Portington," said Somers.

"I was, but it was saucy."

"I am sorry you did not say it."

"I am glad I did not, for you must know, Mr. Somers, that mother has

scolded me so much for being saucy, that I have solemnly resolved to be

proper in all things henceforth and forevermore."

"I am sorry for it," answered Somers, with unaffected earnestness.

"Sorry, you wretch?"

Somers laughed.

"There's another slip. I have done my best to reform my life. I am

afraid I shall never succeed. Now, Prodigy--"

Somers laughed again.

"Again!" exclaimed Kate.

"I wish to ask one favor of you, Miss Portington."

"It would afford me more pleasure to grant it, than it does you to ask

it. Name it."

"That you will never call me Prodigy again."

"I had firmly resolved before you came never to do it," laughed she.

"Well, I only asked it in order to help along your good resolutions."

"Then you are making fun of me?"

"Like yourself, I am very serious."

"But I am in earnest, Mr. Somers; I mean to reform. Now, father and

mother will be very glad to see you, Mr. Somers."

"Your father?"

"He was temporarily relieved to attend a court martial. He is going away

again to-morrow."

"You have other visitors?"

"Only Lieutenant Pillgrim."

"I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance."

"He is a Virginian, I believe; at any rate he is from the South, and has

just been restored to his rank in the navy."

Kate led the way into the parlor, where he was first welcomed by her

mother.

"Mr. Somers, I am glad to see you, and to congratulate you on your

promotion," said the commodore, as he grasped the hand of the young

officer.

"Thank you, sir," replied Somers. "The only ungratified wish I had was

that I might be appointed to your ship."

"My ship!"

"I should have been glad to serve under so able and distinguished a

commander."

"I wouldn't have you in my ship," promptly returned the commodore,

shaking his head energetically.

Somers looked abashed, and Kate wore a troubled expression.

"I should endeavor to do my duty," he added.

"I have no doubt of it, but I wouldn't have you in my ship."

"Your remark is not very complimentary," said Somers, his face beginning

to flush with indignation at what seemed to be an assault upon his

professional character.

"It is the most complimentary thing I could say to you. And I mean what

I say: I wouldn't have you in my ship."

"Why not, father?" demanded Kate.

"Because I like the young dog, and because I believe in discipline. I

never indulge in partiality on board my ship, and it is better to keep

out of temptation. I am under obligations to you, Mr. Somers; I am happy

to acknowledge them, but they must not come between me and duty. Mr.

Somers, Lieutenant Pillgrim," continued Commodore Portington, turning to

the visitor.

Somers looked at the officer thus indicated, and as his eyes rested

upon him, he started back with a momentary astonishment, for the face

had a strange look of familiarity to him.

"Mr. Somers, I am happy to meet and to know you. Your name and

reputation are already familiar to me."

"I am glad to know you, sir," replied Somers, with some confusion. "Your

face looks so familiar to me, that I think we must have met before."

"Never, to my knowledge," answered the lieutenant, with easy

self-possession.

"I was quite sure I had seen you before."

"Possibly; I do not remember it, however."

"If I had met you without the favor of an introduction, I should

certainly have claimed the honor of your acquaintance."

"I should have been proud to be so claimed, but I must confess you would

have had the advantage of me."

"Of course, I must be mistaken, as you suggest."

"It is not unlikely that we have met in some ante-room where we were

dancing attendance on the powers that be, in search of employment; but I

am quite sure, Mr. Somers, that I should have been proud and happy to

number you among my friends."

"It is not too late now," said the commodore.

"Certainly not. I should be but too happy to have as my friend one who

has served his country so faithfully," added Mr. Pillgrim, as he bowed

gracefully to Somers, "especially as I understand we are appointed to

the same ship."

"Indeed!"

"I am ordered to the Chatauqua."

"So am I."

"Then, Mr. Pillgrim, you will take care of our Prodigy; you will be

excellent friends, I trust," said Kate, beginning very impulsively in

her old way, and suddenly checking herself when her resolution to be

"proper" interposed itself.

"What is the matter, Kate? Have you and Mr. Somers had a falling out?"

demanded the commodore.

"O, no, father."

"You talk as though you had had a quarrel, and for a moment had

forgotten to be savage."

"We have had no quarrel, pa," replied Kate, blushing. "I was going to be

saucy, but ma says I must not be saucy, and I shall not be saucy any

more. I only hoped the two gentlemen who are going to live together in

the same ship would be good friends."

"Of course they will. Officers never quarrel."

"Perhaps they don't; but they are not always as good friends as I hope

these gentlemen will be," laughed Kate.

"Perhaps he will be my friend for your sake, if he is not for mine,"

added Pillgrim.

"I do not wish that. I don't like to have anybody do anything for my

sake, unless it be to take paregoric when I am sick."

"I trust I shall not be paregoric to him," said Pillgrim.

"Then he will not take you for my sake."

"As Lieutenant Pillgrim is my superior officer, I should be likely to

court his good will, and prize his friendship very highly. If we are not

friends, I am sure it will not be my fault."

At this moment the dinner bell rang; and although Somers did not feel

intimate enough with the family to invite himself to dine, he was easily

prevailed upon to remain, and gallantly gave his arm to Mrs. Portington,

as Kate, for some wayward reason of her own, had already seized upon

that of Lieutenant Pillgrim.

At the table Somers sat opposite the lieutenant, and he found it

impossible to avoid looking upon him with a strange and undefinable

interest. Since his first glance at the commodore's visitor, who seemed

to be on the best of terms with the family, he had been perplexed by

some strange misgivings. He could not banish from his mind an assurance

that he had seen him before; that he had talked with him, and even been,

to some extent, intimate with him.

The thought that Kate was somewhat changed in her demeanor towards him

did not contribute to increase his satisfaction. She had contrived to

take the lieutenant's arm instead of his own, and perhaps he had come as

the successor of Phil Kennedy, who had been reputed to be high in her

good graces. But Mr. Pillgrim was a gentleman of thirty-five, at least,

and this was not probable, in his view of the matter. Somers, being

disinterested, was more worried to know when, where, and under what

circumstances he had met the lieutenant.

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