A YANKEE TRICK.
The rebel officers and crew of the Ben Lomond were greatly astonished
when the order was given to let go the anchor. They were not in a
condition to appreciate the policy of stopping the wheels, and waiting
for daylight within hail of the blockading squadron, reënforced as it
had been for the attack on the forts; but as the captain had the
reputation of being a perfect tiger, a fire-eater of the most ravenous
sort, they did not venture to grumble or make any complaints.
Captain Column, the pilot, chuckled, and declared it was all right; the
commander knew what he was about, and would get the steamer out of the
scrape without even a shot from the Yankee men-of-war.
Somers had kept up his dignity and maintained his self-possession in the
exciting scenes through which he had just passed; but it must not be
thought that he was as easy in mind as he appeared to be. Every moment
had been burdened with its own peculiar anxiety. The least slip, the
slightest accident, would expose him and his brave followers to great
peril, if not to capture and death. He had won the day thus far by the
mere force of impudence and self-possession; but it was not without a
fear of failure, disgrace, and captivity.
But everything, up to this time, had worked admirably. He had met and
successfully turned aside the obstacles which beset him; and when the
Ben Lomond came to anchor, the prospect looked more hopeful than at any
previous hour. It was now about two o'clock in the morning. As there was
nothing to do, he devoted an hour to an examination of the vessel, which
had been fitted up at Mobile as a rebel cruiser. She had a heavy rifled
pivot gun amidships, and four broadside guns, and was in every respect
well provided for the work in which she was to engage.
She was a vessel of about four hundred tons measurement, long, narrow,
and very sharp. Her rig was that of a topsail schooner, and her
smoke-stack raked with her masts. She was a beautiful craft, and no
labor or expense had been spared to make her the fastest and most
elegant vessel afloat.
Even in the darkness, Somers could see enough of her shape and fittings
to excite his admiration. He passed from the spar deck to the berth
deck, where everything was in keeping with her appearance above. The
ward-room was small, but it was comfortable and well arranged, and the
captain's cabin was fitted up like that of a royal yacht. Probably Mr.
Pillgrim had spent some of his own money on these arrangements before
she left the Clyde; but what contributed distinctly to make her a war
steamer had been done after her arrival at Mobile.
Somers was delighted with the arrangements of the prize, and as he
examined the commander's cabin, he could not help envying the man who
was permitted to occupy this sumptuous and convenient apartment; that
is, if the stars and stripes floated at the peak above him, for he would
rather have been a coal-heaver in a loyal ship, than in command of the
Ben Lomond under the flag of the Confederacy.
Mr. Swayne had conducted Somers over the vessel, and pointed out to him
those features which were most worthy of notice.
"She is a splendid vessel," said the young commander, as they paused in
the ward-room.
"Yes, sir; I am but too happy in being appointed to such a ship. If we
only get clear of the Yankee squadron, we shall give a good account of
her."
"We shall have no quarrel with the Yankee ships," replied Somers, as he
led the way to the spar deck again, for he was not disposed, just yet,
to let Pillgrim and Langdon, who were confined there, hear his voice.
"Captain Pillgrim, you seem to be more confident on this point than your
officers," replied Swayne, in a gentle tone, which more than insinuated
that he would like to know more of the commander's plans.
Somers was very anxious that he should know more of them, so as to
prevent any suspicions which his subsequent course might excite.
"From what point did you expect me to come, before my arrival?" asked
Somers.
"I had no idea. Mr. Langdon seemed to be familiar with all your
movements, but he did not say much about them. He did remark, at one
time, that you were coming down as second lieutenant of one of the
Yankee men-of-war."
"Did he, indeed? Well, he was a prudent man, and he will have his reward
within a few days. Did he really say that?"
"He did."
"I was deceived in him; he was not to be trusted. I placed every
confidence in him. What else did he tell you?" asked Somers, artfully.
"Nothing else, sir. He said more to me than to any other officer, and
hardly anything to me."
"He has betrayed me."
"He told only me that you were to come in a Yankee man-of-war."
"Yes, he did; the pilot knew it--spoke to me of it; and very likely
every man in the ship has the news. But, Mr. Swayne, the statement was
true."
"Mr. Langdon afterwards contradicted it, and said you were in Richmond,
and were coming down by land."
"Probably he thought he had made a blunder. I did come down in the
Yankee ship, the Chatauqua. I am third lieutenant of her, not second. I
was sent off by the captain, at my own suggestion, of course, to bring
out this vessel. I have done it--haven't I?"
"You have," laughed Swayne. "Then you are expected by the Yankees?"
"Of course I am."
The first lieutenant of the Ben Lomond indulged in a laugh highly
complimentary to the skill and cleverness of his commander. Somers
laughed with him. It was an excellent joke to both parties, though, like
the Druid shield, it was seen from different points of view.
"Capital!" exclaimed Mr. Swayne, when he had evaporated the foam of his
mirth.
"If the fog clears off, I shall let up some rockets, which will prevent
the Yankees from firing at us. You understand?"
"I see, sir: you have the Yankee signals?" chuckled Mr. Swayne.
"Every one of them. No doubt they are on the lookout for me in every
ship in the squadron."
"Excellent, Captain Pillgrim. This is, by all odds, the best joke of the
season."
"Now, Mr. Swayne, you will hoist the Yankee flag over the Confederate."
"I don't like to do that, captain," added Mr. Swayne, with a burst of
patriotic enthusiasm.
"For a purpose, Mr. Swayne. Of course, when the men-of-war see that flag
over the other, they will not fire. We shall run through the squadron,
as though we belonged to it; and then--well, you will see what you will
see."
"Exactly so!" exclaimed Mr. Swayne, who seemed to enjoy the prospect
exceedingly, even independent of his desire to flatter and "toady" to
his commander.
The flags were hoisted as Somers directed, and the "captain" for a
couple of hours planked the deck in silence, impatiently waiting for the
fog to lift, or for the daylight to come. It was his policy to anchor,
because he was fearful that the steamer would run by the squadron, in
the fog and darkness, and it would excite suspicion to return to the
fleet, after safely passing through it. If Mr. Swayne had suspected any
treachery, or that everything was not as it appeared to be, it would
have gone hard with Somers and his men, for he could call in double the
loyal force to assist him, besides releasing Pillgrim and Langdon.
At four o'clock in the morning, the fog lifted, and Somers directed the
rockets to be discharged, and the steamer to be got under way. Though
anxious to keep up appearances, he quietly directed Tom Longstone to
make as much delay as possible, and by some accident the messenger
parted when the anchor was apeak, and it was necessary to do the work
over again.
"Captain Pillgrim, what shall be done with the men who came on board
with you?" asked Mr. Swayne, while the crew were walking round the
capstan.
"What shall be done with them?" asked Somers, apparently not
comprehending the meaning of the question.
"They are Yankees--are they not?"
"They are true men, Mr. Swayne. I selected them for this very duty, and
I know them."
"Excuse me, sir, I heard one of them singing a Yankee song, just now."
"They have been in the habit of singing such songs lately; but they are
true men, and will stand by me to the last. If I had wanted them, I
might have brought off a hundred of the crew of the Chatauqua."
Somers told a great many truths in the course of the night, for the
purpose of deceiving the enemies of his country, which is a very
anomalous duty for truth to perform.
The anchor was at the hawse hole, was "catted and fished;" and the Ben
Lomond moved on again, with the pilot on the bridge. As the fog lifted,
and the daylight increased, the squadron of "Brave Old Salt" was seen by
Somers and his companions. As he had promised, not a ship fired on the
steamer, or offered to molest her. The first lieutenant, pilot, and
other officers were entirely satisfied that everything was working in
exact accordance with the plans of their "smart" commander, as they
already called him.
The exciting moment when all the delusion would be swept away, and the
rebel officers and seamen find themselves prisoners, and their ship a
prize, was at hand. Somers had already arranged his final movements with
the boatswain, and certain of the men were instructed to perform
particular parts in the closing scene of the drama.
"Now, Captain Column," said Somers to the pilot, "we must run down for
the Chatauqua. She is the last vessel in the squadron, and if we appear
to be moving towards her, nothing will be suspected."
"Exactly so, captain," replied the pilot, shaking his fat sides with
laughter at the Yankee trick which they were playing off upon the
originators of this species of pleasantry.
"It is quite smooth this morning. The wind has all gone down. Run right
under the quarter of the Chatauqua."
"I can take her within six feet of the ship, if you like."
"Not too close."
"They will give us three cheers, won't they?" laughed the pilot.
"Very likely."
"Port!" shouted the pilot, as the Ben Lomond approached the Chatauqua.
"Port!" yelled the quartermaster at the helm, at whose side stood Tom
Longstone.
"Port!" repeated the pilot with greater energy, when he saw that the
head of the steamer was swinging off from the Chatauqua.
"Port!" again responded the quartermaster.
"Starboard a little more," said Tom, in a low tone.
Captain Column began to storm because the helm did not go to port as he
ordered.
"Can't help it, sir. The tiller chains are jammed, sir," replied the
quartermaster.
"Now hard a port!" said Tom Longstone.
"Starboard! Hard a starboard!" screamed the pilot, in tones of fury.
"Helm is jammed, sir!" returned the boatswain.
At this moment the bells were rung to stop, and then to back the engine.
To all but the half dozen loyal seamen who stood near the helm,
everything seemed to be in confusion. The Ben Lomond ran up on the lee
side of the Chatauqua, and stopped within a few feet of her. A stroke of
the wheels and a turn of the helm brought her alongside, before the
rebels could clearly apprehend the situation. The twenty-four men, with
their revolvers and cutlasses, stood ready to check any demonstration on
the part of officers or crew, but none was made. Their weapons were in
the armory, and they suspected nothing till an instant before the
steamer touched the ship's side.
Conant, as instructed, leaped on board the Chatauqua, and reported
Somers's wish to the officer of the deck. In another moment, the watch
on deck of the man-of-war poured into the prize, and secured every
officer and seaman. Then came the three rousing cheers which the pilot
had expected, and the work was done.
If ever a rebel was disappointed, disheartened, and disgusted, it was
Mr. Swayne. He had been bewildered by the sudden change in the course of
the steamer, and actually believed that it was caused by the wheel
chains being jammed, until the watch from the Chatauqua poured in upon
her decks.
"Well, Mr. Swayne, I suppose you are satisfied that I spoke the truth.
The Yankees have not fired upon us; I came down in the Chatauqua; I was
sent off to bring out this vessel; I have done it," said Somers.
"I had no suspicion you were a Yankee," replied the first lieutenant.
"Where did you get your commission?"
"It was given me by Mr. Langdon and Mr. Pillgrim, both of whom are under
guard below."
Swayne used some expletives more forcible than polite, and Somers went
on board the Chatauqua to report.