OVER THE RIVER
Captain Somers, as we are hereafter to call him, was proud and happy in
the distinction which had been bestowed upon him; but he had some doubts
whether he had fully earned his promotion. He had done as much as any,
and more than some. Yet it seemed to him just as though nothing short of
the capture or annihilation of a whole brigade of the enemy's forces
could entitle him to such a distinguished honor, especially as he was
only eighteen years of age. He was afraid that Senator Guilford had
exerted too much influence in his favor; but the general of the division
had assured him he had won his promotion, and would have received it in
time, even without the powerful aid of the honorable gentleman at
Washington.
This thought comforted him; and he only hoped that his friend De Banyan
would be as highly favored as he had been. The valiant captain, in spite
of his glaring faults, was a good fellow, a fine officer, and very
popular with his inferiors as well as his superiors. He had become very
much attached to Somers, and had proved by many substantial acts that he
was animated by a warm regard for him. Though he talked a great deal
about the favor of high officials in securing his promotion, he had never
hinted a wish that Somers should attempt to influence his powerful friend
to do anything for him.
Somers said nothing to the captain about the letter he had written. If
anything was done, he wished to have his friend surprised as he had been.
But he had only slight hopes that anything would be accomplished by his
application. Though Captain de Banyan had always behaved well in battle,
and had always faithfully discharged his duties in the camp and on the
march, there was something like a mystery hanging about him, which had a
tendency to prejudice the officers against him. While they admired his
bravery, and enjoyed his society, there was a certain lack of confidence,
resulting from a want of knowledge of his antecedents.
De Banyan always evaded any allusion to his former residence or
occupation. He desired to be regarded as a soldier of fortune, who had
fought with every nation that had a quarrel with its neighbors. Where he
was born, where he had lived, or how he obtained his commission, were
secrets locked up in his own breast. Somers had some doubts in regard to
him, and was constantly afraid that he should hear more of the captain
than it would be pleasant to know.
Captain Somers reported his arrangements in due form to the general, and
they were approved. About nine o'clock in the evening, he, with his
little party, embarked on the river, and the rowers pulled towards the
opposite shore. Of course, it was necessary to use the utmost caution;
for a rebel picket on the opposite bank of the river might suddenly put
an end to the career of some of the party.
"I think we are making a mistake, Captain Somers," said De Banyan in a
whisper, when they had gone about half way across the river.
"So do I; but it is not too late to correct the error," replied Somers,
as he turned the bow of the boat down the river.
"I believe you are my double, Somers; for you know my thoughts before I
utter them."
"I was just thinking, when you spoke, that we were running into a nest of
the enemy."
"Just before the battle of the Alma, I went on just such an expedition as
this; but we went down the river beyond the enemy's lines, and doubled up
in the rear of them; thus finding out all we wanted to know."
"That is what I propose to do."
"Captain Brickfield and myself landed, and walked sixty-four miles
between nine o'clock in the evening and four o'clock in the morning,"
added Captain de Banyan.
"How far?"
"Sixty-four miles."
"Good!" exclaimed Somers. "Did you walk all the way?"
"Every step."
"It was tip-top walking, De Banyan--a little more than nine miles an
hour."
"Do you doubt the story?"
"I don't doubt that it is a story."
"Now, that isn't kind of you, Somers, to be perpetually throwing
discredit upon everything I say," replied the captain, apparently much
hurt.
"You mustn't say such things, then. You don't expect any man in his
senses to believe that you walked over nine miles an hour, and followed
it for seven hours?"
"I was tougher then than I am now."
"And you can tell a tougher story now than you could then, I'll warrant."
"There it is again!"
"Now, my dear fellow, I'm afraid you will die with an enormous fib in
your mouth."
"Come, Somers, you are taking a mean advantage of my friendship. You know
that I like you too well to quarrel with you."
"Silence!" said Somers earnestly. "There is a boat coming out from the
rebel side of the river."
The water was covered with vessels of every description in the vicinity
of Harrison's Landing; and the boat had just emerged from this forest of
masts and smokestacks. It was time to be entirely silent again; for the
rebels were on the alert in every direction, watching to strike a blow at
the grand army, or to pick up individual stragglers who might fall in
their way. The boat which Somers had discovered was approaching from the
rebel side of the river; and to be seen by the enemy, at this point of
the proceedings, would be fatal to the expedition.
"Who goes there?" said a man in the rebel boat.
"Friends!" replied Somers.
"Who are ye?"
The tones were so unmistakably Southern, that there could be no question
in regard to the party to which the boat belonged.
"Officers examining the enemy's lines," replied Somers.
At the same time he ordered his crew to pull, and steered the boat so as
to run her alongside the other. On the way, he whispered to the men his
instructions; and, as soon as they were near enough, they leaped on board
the rebel boat, and captured her astonished crew before they had time to
make any resistance. No doubt they thought this was very rude treatment
to receive from the hands of those who professed to be their friends; but
they had discovered their mistake by this time, and it afforded a
sufficient explanation of the seeming inconsistency.
The capture of this boat involved the necessity of returning to the
nearest steamer in the river to dispose of the prisoners. On the way
back, Somers and De Banyan conversed with the rebels on general topics;
for the latter refused to say anything which could be of service to their
enemy. After the captives had been delivered on board the steamer, our
party decided to take the boat which had been captured, instead of the
one they had brought from the landing; for there were some peculiarities
in its construction, which made it a safer conveyance in rebel waters
than the other, the approach of which would excite suspicion if seen.
Again they pulled down the river, and passed the point from beyond which
the rebel boat had approached them. The shore was probably lined with
pickets; and the wisdom of exchanging the boats was now more apparent to
them than before. Somers steered into a little inlet or bay beyond the
point, and at the head of it found a creek flowing into the river. It was
wide and deep at the outlet; and he decided to ascend it.
"How was it, Andy?" said a voice from the shore, after the boat had
advanced a few rods up the creek.
"All right!" replied Somers at a venture; though he was somewhat startled
by the question.
"Have the Yankees any picket boats out?" demanded the man on shore.
"Haven't seen any."
"How far up have you been?"
"About two miles," answered Somers, continually coughing to account for
any change in his voice which might be apparent to his friend on shore.
"The fire-steamer is all ready," added the voice; "and it is about time
to go to work."
"The fire-steamer!" exclaimed Somers in a low tone.
"They are going to burn the vessels in the river," added De Banyan.
"What shall we do?"
"We must stop their fun at all hazards," replied the valiant captain
promptly.
"What are you stopping there for, Andy? Why don't you pull up the creek?"
continued the man on shore.
"My name isn't Andy," said Somers; "and I don't fully understand this
business."
"Who are you, then?" replied the rebel. "What has become of Andy?"
"He has got another job, and sent me to do this one," answered Somers,
whose ready wit had adopted a plan to defeat the purpose of the enemy.
"Who are you?"
"Tom Leathers. Andy sent me up to attend to this matter. Where is the
fire-steamer?"
"About half a mile farther up the creek. But where is Andy?"
"Some general sent for him; and he has gone to Richmond. I reckon the
iron-clad's coming down soon."
"Can you take care of the steamer?"
"Certainly I can."
"Are you a pilot?"
"Pilot enough for this business."
"I understand it all. Andy was afraid to do this job, and has backed
out."
"I only know what he said to me," replied Somers innocently.
"Well, pull up the creek, and don't waste any more time in talking about
it."
"I haven't wasted any time. You have done all the talking yourself,"
replied Somers, who thought he should not be a consistent Southerner if
he did not growl.
Somers directed the men to pull again, and the boat advanced up the creek
till the steamer appeared. She was a small, worn-out old craft, which had
probably dodged into the creek when the Union fleet came up the river.
The man who had spoken from the shore reached the place almost as soon as
the boat. He was dressed in the gray of the Confederate army, and was
evidently an officer detailed to perform the duty of fitting out the
fire-ship.
"This is a most remarkable proceeding on the part of the pilot," said the
officer.
"I can't help it. You needn't growl at me about it. If you don't want me,
I don't want the job," replied Somers sourly.
"Don't be impudent to me," added the officer.
"And don't you be impudent to me," said Somers. "I'm not one of your
men."
"Silence! or I shall put you under arrest."
"No, you won't."
"Do you know the channel of the river?"
"Of course I do. What do you suppose Andy sent me here for?" snarled
Somers.
"Keep a civil tongue in your head, man."
"You had better show me how to do it first. Come, Graves," he added,
turning to De Banyan, "we are not wanted here, and we will go home
again."
"Who is that man with you?"
"Graves."
"Where did you get all these men?"
"They came with me to see the fun, and help the thing along."
The officer stepped on board of the steamer, and Somers and De Banyan
joined him on the deck.
"I think I've seen you somewhere."
"I think very likely; I was there once."
"You are a crusty young cub; but it may be you know your duty."
"Of course I do; and as for being crusty, I treated you like a gentleman
till you began to snarl at me."
"Well, well, my friend, we will rub out the past and begin again," said
the officer pleasantly.
"With all my heart, if you say so," replied Somers with equal suavity.
"This is a very important enterprise, and we want to teach the Yankees
that it will be better for them to stay at home next time they want to
come down South. What is your name?"
"Tom Leathers. What's yours? Andy told me; but I've forgotten."
"Captain Osborn."
The rebel officer proceeded to give the supposed pilot very full
instructions in regard to the steamer, which was to be run up the river
to City Point, set on fire, and then abandoned to float with the current
through the thickest of the Federal fleet, blowing up gunboats, and
consuming transports by the hundred. The fire-steamer had been loaded
with pitch-wood, tar, pitch and turpentine; and Captain Osborn was
satisfied that the plan, if thoroughly carried out, would cause
tremendous havoc among the Yankee vessels. He rubbed his hands with
delight as he contemplated the prospect of driving the "Hessian" fleet
from the river, and starving the Union army out of its position.
An engineer and two firemen, whom they found on board the steamer, were
all the crew she had, and all she needed besides the pilot. They had got
up steam, and the vessel was all ready to move on her errand of
destruction when the word should be given.
"Now you are all ready," said Captain Osborn when he had completed his
instructions. "You will hoist the American flag, and pretend you are a
Yankee, if they attempt to stop you on your way up the river."
"I can do that to a charm," replied Somers. "I am all ready. Where is
Graves? Hallo, Graves!" he shouted, when he found that his companion had
left his side to take a look at the other parts of the steamer.
"Here I am, Tom," answered Graves, emerging from the engine-room, where
he had been talking with the presiding genius of that department.
"Run up the colors."
"Ay, ay, sir!" replied De Banyan.
The colors went up, and other preparations were made for the great
enterprise.
"Cast off that stern line!" said Somers. "Make fast your painter on the
port quarter," he added to the man in the boat; and no doubt by this time
Captain Osborn was fully satisfied that he was perfectly familiar with
the management of a steamer.
Now, Somers was very well satisfied that he should run the steamer
aground before he rounded the first point in the river, and he had wisely
concluded not to undertake so rash an enterprise. Besides, he did not
come over there to be the skipper of a steamer; he had other and even
more important duties to perform. He was much more interested in certain
rebel batteries which were believed to be in process of construction
farther up the river. But Captain Osborn was an unreasonable man, and
demanded the execution of his plan. He was determined to see a
conflagration, and Somers was equally determined to gratify him.
Our pilot discovered the value of his limited nautical experience in
Pinchbrook Harbor; for it enabled him to convince the rebel officer that
he was a full-fledged "salt," and was entirely at home on the deck of any
vessel that could float in the waters of the James. The stern-line and
the bow-line were cast off; and Somers stood in the little wheel-house,
ready to ring the bells. Captain Osborn had just stepped on shore,
intending to mount his horse and ride up the river, where he could see
the conflagration when it came off.
Just then, there was a tremendous commotion among the firemen and
engineer; and, a moment later, a broad, bright sheet of flame rose from
the heap of combustibles in the after-part of the steamer.