THE END OF THE REBELLION.
The Firefly, with her energetic young commander, was too serviceable to
be permitted long to remain in idleness, and she was ordered to join
Admiral Porter's squadron, which had failed to capture Fort Fisher in
December; or rather, the military portion of the expedition had failed
to do it, for the navy had done its part of the work to the satisfaction
of the nation.
Somers sailed again, and in due time reported to the admiral, who was
then waiting for the army, in order to make the second attack. A
tremendous gale delayed the expedition; but on the 13th of January, the
bombardment of Fort Fisher was commenced, and the military force was
landed on Federal Point. A detachment of sailors from the Firefly, under
the command of Lieutenant Longstone, was sent on shore to join the naval
brigade, and the steamer was variously employed during the action,
rendering valuable aid with her hundred pounder, as well as performing
various duties, for which her great speed and light draught peculiarly
fitted her. The zeal and energy of Somers were warmly commended, though
he had no opportunity to render any signal service in the attack.
Fort Fisher fell this time; every man and every ship was faithful; and
though some were distinguished by gallant exploits, the victory was the
result of the steadiness of the whole line, rather than of the brilliant
deeds of the few. The last maritime stronghold of the rebellion was
reduced, and the sinking Confederacy was shut in from all material
support from abroad. Its days were numbered, and many of its most rabid
supporters were now crying out for peace.
The flag of the Union floated over Fort Fisher, and the great fleet
before its shattered ramparts celebrated the victory with clouds of gay
flags, with flights of rockets, and with salvos of artillery. It was a
glorious day for that expedition. Admiral Porter and General Terry won a
glorious fame and an unfading name upon the annals of their country.
Gallant old Tom Longstone was wounded in the arm in an attempt to rally
the sailors when they broke under the most terrible fire that mortal men
ever breasted. Lieutenant Longstone did all that any officer could do,
but the whole garrison seemed to be gathered at the point where the
naval assault was made. The sailors were repulsed and driven back. They
had never been disciplined to this kind of work; yet they fought like
tigers, hand to hand oftentimes, with the foe; and though they were
forced back, even while the American flag was floating over the other
side of the works, it was no disgrace to them. Tom stood by to the last,
though he was severely wounded, and finally had the satisfaction of
beholding a complete triumph. The soldiers did wonders on that day--the
sailors hardly less.
With other vessels of light draught the Firefly went up the river,
fishing up torpedoes, transporting soldiers, and hammering down rebel
batteries, and continued upon this duty until General Terry marched into
the deserted city of Wilmington, and raised the national flag where the
emblem of treason had insulted the free air for four long years.
The Firefly was ordered to the James River, in the vicinity of which the
last groan of the expiring monster of Rebellion was soon to be heard;
and on the 20th of March she was on her winding way up the stream. In
the mean time Charleston had fallen; negro troops patrolled her streets,
and the people of this foul nest of secession were suffering the agonies
of actual subjugation. Sherman, with his grand army, was "marching on"
in his resistless course, with hardly a foe to impede his exultant
march. Columbia, the proud capital of arrogant South Carolina, yielded,
and the people repented their folly in the ashes of the burning city.
Johnston was retreating before his invincible conqueror, and the whole
military power of the rebellion east of Mississippi was concentrated
within an area of not more than a hundred and fifty miles.
The movements of General Grant before Petersburg commenced; and his
great army, now animated by the sure prestige of victory, was hurled
against the rebel lines. The shock was tremendous; the whole world
seemed to be shaken by it, for it was the onslaught of freedom, striking
its last terrible blow at the legions of slavery.
The fleet on the James was busily employed in fishing up torpedoes, in
guarding the pontoons across the river, and in "neutralizing" the
enemy's iron-clads which lay above the obstructions. The Firefly found
abundant occupation, though there was no opportunity for brilliant and
startling achievements; but she bore her full share in the hard work and
disagreeable drudgery of the occasion.
Tom Longstone had entirely recovered from his wound; and being a
practical man himself, he was the life of every working party sent out
from the ship. The old man was an immense favorite with the sailors;
for, unlike many who have risen from a low position to a high, he was
kind and considerate, while he exacted the full measure of duty from
all. He was no tyrant, and had a heart for every man, whatever his
degree.
"Well, Mr. Longstone, we have got almost to the end of the rebellion,"
said Captain Somers, on one of those last days of March, when the roar
from beyond Petersburg was heavier than usual.
"No doubt of that, captain," replied Tom. "I shall be a boatswain again
before long."
"Do you dread the time?"
"No, sir; far be it from me. I wouldn't prolong the war a single day, if
that day would make me an admiral."
"Only one day, Tom?" said Somers, with a smile.
"Not one, sir!" repeated the veteran, with emphasis. "For on that day a
husband or a father, a brother or a son, might be killed, and I should
be a murderer before God."
"What do you think of those, then, that began this war?"
"They are murderers! The blood of every man who has been killed in this
war on both sides rests on their heads. I'd rather be Cain than Jeff
Davis, or any other man of his crew."
"I think you are right, Tom."
"As for me, it don't make much difference whether I'm a boatswain or an
admiral. This old hulk won't stand many more storms; and I wouldn't do a
mean thing for the sake of living twenty years. Well, well," sighed the
veteran, as he glanced in the direction from which the roar of the
artillery came, "many a good fellow will lose the number of his mess
to-day."
"Hundreds of them."
And so the reports of the succeeding days assured them. The rebels had
stormed and temporarily possessed themselves of Fort Steadman. The
terrible conflict was opened in earnest; and from that time, swarms of
prisoners were sent forward to the river, which were guarded by
detachments of sailors and marines from the fleet.
For three days the storm of war continued to howl in the distance, and
on the peaceful Sabbath more fiercely than before. Vague rumors were
flying through the fleet, and everybody felt that the end was at hand.
Somers retired as usual that night; but in the first watch, Tom
Longstone came down to him with report of great lights and heavy
explosions in the direction of Richmond.
The rebels were evacuating the city, blowing up their iron-clads, and
firing the town. Richmond, which had defied the armies of the Union for
four years, had fallen. The heroic and persevering Grant had struck a
blow miles away, which tumbled down the last stronghold of treason. Jeff
Davis and his cabinet were fugitives now, fleeing from men, while the
wrath of God pursued where men could not reach them.
The morning came, and with it the glad tidings of victory, which
foreshadowed peace. The Firefly was ordered to move up the river, and
she went up into waters where a loyal steamer had not floated for four
years. The negro troops were even then marching through the streets of
Richmond. The note of rejoicing, begun in the early morning, was
continued through the day. The brightest flags and the heaviest guns
proclaimed the joyful event.
The Firefly went up to Varina, and then returned. This river was clear;
there was no sign of an enemy upon its waters. At City Point the sounds
of rejoicing thrilled upon the ear of soldier and sailor. Cheer upon
cheer rent the air, gun upon gun roared the pæan of triumph, and every
heart beat in unison with the glad acclaim.
"Glory, hallelujah!" shouted Somers, on the quarter deck of the Firefly,
as she passed through the fleet.
"Glory, hallelujah!" returned all who heard him.
Three rousing cheers, such as Jack only can give, came from the
flag-ship, as the Firefly ran under her counter.
"What's that?" asked Somers--for there seemed to be something unusual
going on.
Calling his gig, he went on board the flag-ship to report the result of
his visit up the river. On the quarter deck he discovered a familiar
face, which thrilled his heart with delight. It was "Brave Old Salt."
Somers approached the vice admiral, cap in hand, and was immediately
recognized.
"Mr. Somers, I am delighted to see you!" said the admiral, extending his
hand.
"Thank you, sir," replied the young commander. "This is an unexpected
happiness to me."
"There is only one joy to-day, Mr. Somers," continued the admiral.
"Richmond has fallen, and the rebellion is ended!"
"Glory, hallelujah!" said Somers, waving his cap.
"I came down here to learn what Grant was doing. God bless him! He has
done everything," added the admiral.
Rear Admiral Porter now ordered the Firefly to be placed at the disposal
of the Old Salamander, and Somers was happy in the duty assigned to him.
A twelve-oar barge received the vice admiral, and conveyed him to the
steamer in which his voyage was to be continued. When he was on board,
the barge was towed astern for his use farther up the river.
The Firefly steamed up the river with her illustrious passenger, and at
the invitation of the admiral, Somers accompanied him to Richmond.
A day later came President Lincoln in a barge, attended by Admiral
Porter, and Somers had the honor of being formally presented to the
chief magistrate of the nation, who had a pleasant word for him, as he
had for all who approached him. Somers assisted in the ovation to the
president, and listened with wonder and delight to the shouts of the
negroes, as they greeted the author of the Emancipation Proclamation as
the saviour and redeemer of their race.
Ten days later, that simple, great man fell by the hand of the assassin,
though not till the news of the surrender of Lee's army had gladdened
his heart, and assured him that the great work of his lifetime was
finished.
Somers was shocked, stunned by the fearful news, the more so that he had
so recently pressed the hand of the illustrious martyr; and though the
nation was full of mourners, there were none more sincere in their grief
than the young commander of the Firefly. He wept as he would have wept
for his own father; and shutting himself up in his cabin, in solemn
fast, he read his Bible and prayed for the land he loved. How many true
souls did the same, when they heard of the awful tragedy!
The war was ended. A few days later came the news of Johnston's
surrender. One by one, the gunboats were ordered north, and in June the
Firefly dropped her anchor off the navy yard at Charlestown. A few hours
later Somers was in the arms of the loved ones at home, weeping tears of
joy that the sound of strife was no more heard in the land.
The Firefly was no longer needed in the navy, and with a hundred others
she was sold. As soon as she went out of commission, Tom Longstone,
having been "honorably discharged with the thanks of the department" as
an ensign, returned to his former rank of boatswain. When he obtained a
furlough, he paid a visit to Pinchbrook, where he was kindly received by
all the friends of his _protégé_. The old man had money enough to buy
him a farm and retire from the navy; but he obstinately refused to do so
while Somers retained his commission. He confidently expected to be
appointed boatswain of the ship to which Lieutenant Somers might be
ordered.
During his absence Somers had received occasional letters from Kate
Portington; and we will not undertake to say how many reams of fine note
paper he spoiled in saying what can be of interest to none but the
parties concerned. Of course there was any quantity of liquid moonshine
spread out on these dainty sheets, and the young man was all the happier
for writing it, as she was for reading it, for Kate and Somers had come
to an excellent understanding with each other on these matters.
At the earliest day the public service would admit, he hastened to
Newport; but on his arrival he found the commodore's house filled with
grief and lamentation. The husband and the father--the kindest of
husbands and the tenderest of fathers--had been suddenly stricken down
in New Orleans, where his ship was stationed. The sad tidings had come
but a few hours before; and a few hours later it had flashed all over
the land that one of the nation's truest defenders had fallen at the
post of duty.
In her grief Kate clung to Somers, who became the tenderest of
comforters. Then she learned, when earth was dark to her, what a wealth
of holy hope and pious faith there was in the soul of him she had chosen
from the whole world to lean upon in joy and in sorrow, in prosperity
and adversity, till life's fitful dream was over. Fondly she looked up
to him in her heavy affliction, and through him to the heaven of which
he spoke. He wept with her for him who was gone, and if she had loved
him before, she reverenced him now.
Two weeks after the news came a steamer bearing the remains of the
deceased commodore. Then the tears broke out afresh, and Somers
continued to perform the holy office he had chosen. With the bereaved
child--the only one--he stood at the tomb, and helped her to see the
glory that streamed forth beyond its dark portals. Every day, for weeks
after, he visited her, never now to speak of his own selfish heart
yearnings, but to utter words of peace and hope. When he announced his
intention to return home, she could not restrain her tears, so needful
had he become to her in the depth of her sorrow.
In the autumn her mother and herself came to Boston to spend the winter.
Kate was cheerful now, but the affliction through which she had passed
had given a shade of pensive sadness to her beautiful face, which time
alone could wear away. They attended the wedding of Major Somers,
John's brother, and rejoiced with him as he put the cup of bliss to his
lips. Lilian and Kate became fast friends; they were nearer alike now
than before the death of Commodore Portington.
The winter passed away, and early in March Lieutenant Somers was
appointed to a ship bound to the Pacific Ocean. He must be absent two or
three years. He hastened to Kate with the intelligence; and sad as it
was to himself, he knew it would be infinitely more so to her. She
turned pale, and burst into tears. Her mother was hardly less affected.
"You must not go, John! O, no! You will not leave me!"
"I must obey orders."
"You can resign," suggested Mrs. Portington.
"Resign!" exclaimed Somers. "Resign when I am ordered to difficult or
disagreeable duty."
"You need not make so much of it," added the matron, with a smile.
"There are twice as many officers in the navy as are required. It is
certainly no disgrace, in time of peace, to resign. You will only make a
place for another who wants to visit the Pacific."
"You must resign, John," pleaded Kate, with an eloquence which he could
not resist.
"On one condition I will do so," replied he, at last. "If there should
be war, I shall return to my post, if needed."
And thus it was that Somers left the navy. His prize money, which had
been carefully invested from time to time by Captain Barney, now
amounted to more than twenty thousand dollars. He was able to retire,
and he did so.
It is generally understood that they are to be married in the autumn,
when Mr. Somers will receive half a million with his wife, who is worth
a million times that sum herself. As the happy event has not yet
occurred, we have nothing to say about it, but we wish them every joy in
anticipation. Mrs. Portington speaks hopefully of the occasion, and has
already selected a location, in the vicinity of Boston, where the happy
young couple are to reside.
This event has decided Tom Longstone. He has thrown up his warrant, and
bought a farm in Pinchbrook, on which he intends to "lay up" for the
rest of his life. A niece, who lost her husband in the war, is his
housekeeper, and at the time of Somers's last visit, the veteran was at
the high tide of felicity.
* * * * *
With many regrets we bid adieu to John Somers, to Thomas his brother,
and all of the family. We leave them prosperous and happy; but they have
purchased earth's joys and heaven's hopes by being faithful to
duty--true to God and themselves.
* * * * *
THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES.
In Six Volumes.
A Library for Young and Old.
BY OLIVER OPTIC.
I.
THE SOLDIER BOY;
Or, Tom Somers in the Army.
II.
THE SAILOR BOY;
Or, Jack Somers in the Navy.
III.
THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT;
Or, The Adventures of an Army Officer.
A SEQUEL TO "THE SOLDIER BOY."
IV.
THE YANKEE MIDDY;
Or, The Adventures of a Naval Officer.
A SEQUEL TO "THE SAILOR BOY."
V.
FIGHTING JOE;
Or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer.
A SEQUEL TO "THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT."
VI.
BRAVE OLD SALT;
Or, Life on the Quarter Deck.
A SEQUEL TO "THE YANKEE MIDDY."
WOODVILLE STORIES.
BY OLIVER OPTIC.
* * * * *
I.
RICH AND HUMBLE;
Or, The Mission of Bertha Grant.
II.
IN SCHOOL AND OUT;
Or, The Conquest of Richard Grant.
III.
WATCH AND WAIT;
Or, the Young Fugitives.
IV.
WORK AND WIN.
V.
HOPE AND HAVE.
(In preparation.)
VI.
HASTE AND WASTE.
(In preparation.)
* * * * *
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers.
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BY OLIVER OPTIC.
* * * * *
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II.
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III.
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IV.
TRY AGAIN;
OR, THE TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST.
V.
NOW OR NEVER;
OR, THE ADVENTURES OF BOBBY BRIGHT.
VI.
POOR AND PROUD;
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CARELESS KATE.
IX.
ROBINSON CRUSOE, JR.
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