MARCY IN ACTION.
Marcy Gray was somewhat surprised, though not at all abashed, to find
himself treated as an honored guest on board the gunboat. He took
breakfast with Captain Benton, who did not think it beneath his dignity
to acknowledge that he was glad to know he was seventeen hundred dollars
richer than he thought he was, and who listened with the deepest
interest to the boy's account of the various adventures that had
befallen him since the war broke out. When the story was finished the
captain believed with his executive officer that it required courage to
be loyal to the old flag in that country.
Breakfast over, the two stepped into the captain's gig and were taken on
board the _Southfield_ and into the presence of the officer who
commanded the naval part of the expedition. Flag-officer Goldsborough
was a native of Maryland, but he believed that the South was wrong in
trying to break up the Union, that she ought to be compelled to lay down
her arms since she would not do it of her own free will, and he was
doing all a brave and skilful man could to force her to strike the
strange flag she had hoisted in opposition to the Stars and Stripes. He
was very busy, but he found time to ask Marcy a few questions, and gave
him pencil and paper with which to draw a map of the channel that led
through Croatan Sound. When it was done he compared it with another that
lay upon his table, and Marcy learned, from some remarks he exchanged
with Captain Benton, that he was not the only pilot whose services had
been secured by force of arms.
We have spoken of an expedition similar to that of Mr. Watkins, which
left the fleet the night before, went as far as the mainland and stopped
there. It was in search of a pilot, and it brought him, too. He was now
on board the flag-ship, from which he was afterward sent to the vessel
that had been ordered to lead in the attack. There was still another
that Marcy did not know anything about--a negro boy named Tom, who had
once called John M. Daniel of Roanoke master. He ran away on the same
night the expedition came into the Sound, and had been taken on board
Burnside's flag-ship. He afterward showed the general the landing at
Ashby's Harbor, and told him how the troops could be placed there
without being obliged to wade through the deep marshes at the foot of
the Island. At the beginning of the war the Confederates did not believe
that their own slaves would turn against them and give aid and comfort
to the Federals; but the blacks were sharp enough to know who their
friends were, and the information they were always ready to give was in
most cases found to be reliable.
"There is one thing I had almost forgotten to speak of, sir," said
Captain Benton, when the "commodore," as he had been called, intimated
that he had no more questions to ask. "What shall I do with that man
Beardsley, if you please?"
"I will give you an order to send him off to a store-ship, for of course
you don't want him aboard of you in action," was the answer. "What will
be done with him after we are through here, I can't say. If he had been
taken with his privateer he might be held as a prisoner of war; but as
it is, I presume he will be released after a while, to get into more
mischief after he returns within the Confederate lines."
"But it will put him to some trouble to get back," thought Marcy. "And
that will be a blessing."
As soon as the order referred to had been written, Captain Benton and
his pilot took their departure. When the former stepped upon the deck of
his own vessel the second cutter was called away, and Captain Beardsley
was brought out of the brig to be taken on board the supply ship, where
he would be out of harm's way during the fight that was soon to begin.
He did not yell and struggle now as he did when the irons were first
placed upon his wrists, for the fear of the gag had taken all that
nonsense out of him. His face was very pale, and he walked with his head
down, and did not appear to notice any of those he passed on his way to
the side. When he saw how utterly dejected and cast down his old
commander was, Marcy felt heartily sorry that he had said so much
against him; but after all he hadn't told more than half the truth. He
had promised himself that he would shut Beardsley up for a long time if
he ever got the chance, but now that it was presented, he hadn't the
heart to improve it. He did just as he knew his mother would wish him to
do under the circumstances--he held his peace; and when the cutter
shoved off with him, he hoped that something would happen to keep
Beardsley away from Nashville as long as the war continued. But
unfortunately he came back. Marcy had not neglected to bring his
binoculars with him, and finding himself at liberty after the captain
went below, he walked forward to take a look at things, being
accompanied by a couple of master's mates, one of whom had been second
in command of Mr. Watkins's expedition, and answered to the name of
Perkins. The Union fleet lay anchored in three parallel lines a short
distance below the lighthouse, which stood on a dangerous shoal on the
right-hand side of the channel, the gunboats being in advance, with the
exception of half a dozen or more that had been drawn up on the flanks
to protect the transports, in case the enemy began the fight without
waiting to be attacked. A short half mile ahead of the fleet were two
small vessels, the _Ceres_ and the _Putnam_, whose business it was to
act as picket-boats and look out for obstructions when the larger
vessels were ready to move. Straight up the channel, and not more than
twelve or thirteen miles away, were the double rows of piles and sunken
ships that must be passed in some manner before the Union vessels could
engage the Confederate squadron, which lay on the other side and close
under the protecting guns of Fort Huger. His glass showed him that the
rebels had steam up and were ready for action, and Marcy wondered why
the Union commander wasn't doing something. He said as much to the two
young officers who stood by his side, while he was making his
observations.
"Wait a while," replied Perkins, with a sly wink at his companion.
"After you have been in one fight you'll not be in any hurry to get into
another. I can wait a week or two as well as not."
"I assure you that I am not spoiling for a fight," answered Marcy. "I'd
rather not go into one; but since I've got it to do, I wish we might get
at it and have it over with." And as he said this he picked up his left
hand, which had been hanging by his side, and placed it in the sling he
wore around his neck.
"Look here, Perk," said the other young officer, when he observed this
movement. "I'll bet you have been giving advice to one who knows more
than you do. Where did you get that hand, pilot, if it is a fair
question?"
"My hand is all right, but my arm was broken by one of your shells while
I was running the blockade," replied Marcy, whereupon the youngsters
opened their eyes, and looked at him and at each other as though they
felt the least bit ashamed of themselves.
"But of course you did not know anything about it, and I don't think
hard of it if you took me for a greenhorn."
"I took you for a lad of spirit and courage when Mr. Watkins told me how
you had been living back there in the country," exclaimed Perkins. "But
of course I did not know that you had snuffed powder."
"I should think that shell would have taken your arm off instead of
breaking it," observed the other.
"The shell never came near me, but a heavy splinter that was torn from
our rail made me think I was a goner," replied Marcy. "The man you saw
put into the brig, and afterward taken out and sent aboard the
store-ship, was my old captain; and I was acting as pilot of his vessel
at the time I was hit. And I am as strong for the Union as anybody in
this squadron. I have a brother on one of these boats, and would like
much to see him."
"You don't say?" exclaimed Perkins. "What boat is he on, and what
position does he hold?"
"He is a foremast hand on the _Harriet Lane._ I hope he will make
himself known to his commander, for he is the best kind of a pilot for
this coast."
"I am afraid he will not be of any use to us to-day, and that you will
not shake hands with him this trip," replied Perkins. "That boat is not
with us. She is outside, chasing blockade runners. Hallo! There goes our
answering pennant. Now, watch the signal from the flag-ship--one, nine,
five, second-repeater--Aw, what's the use of my reading off the numbers
when I have no signal-book to translate them for me?"
"It is '_engage the enemy_' probably," said his companion. "After we
have answered it a few times more, perhaps we will recognize it when we
see it."
"If that is what the signal means, why don't you go to your stations?"
inquired Marcy, as they began walking leisurely toward the waist to
leave the forecastle clear for the blue-jackets, who came forward in
obedience to a shrill call from the boatswain's whistle, which was
followed by the command: "All hands stand by to get ship under way."
"You don't seem to be in any haste to do anything, you two."
"What is the use of being in a hurry to get shot at?" said Perkins.
"Wait until you hear the call to quarters, and then you will see us get
around lively enough. But we shall not have so very much fighting to do
to-day. I heard Mr. Watkins tell the officer of the deck this morning
that this battle will be merely preliminary. When the soldiers get a
foothold on the Island you'll see fun, unless the rebels run away."
"Where is my station in action?" asked Marcy.
"Close at the old man's side, wherever he happens to be," replied the
master's mate. "And I will tell you, for your consolation, that he
always happens to be in the most dangerous place he can find. There he
is on the bridge, and perhaps you had better go up to him."
The bridge was a platform with a railing around it, extending nearly
across the deck just abaft the wheel-house, and when Marcy mounted the
ladder that led up to it, he found himself in a position to see
everything that was going on. The captain was standing there with his
hands in his pockets, but he seemed more like a disinterested spectator
than like a man who was about to take a ship into action, for he had not
a word to say to anybody. He wore a canvas bag by his side, suspended by
a broad strap that passed over his shoulder; and if Marcy could have
looked into it, he would have found that it contained a small book whose
cloth covers were heavily loaded with lead. This was the
signal-book--one of the most important articles in a man-of-war's
outfit. The captain always kept it where he could place his hands upon
it at a moment's notice, and if he found that his vessel was in danger
of being captured, he would have thrown it overboard rather than permit
it to fall into the hands of the enemy.
For the first quarter of an hour or so Marcy Gray had nothing to do but
keep out of the way of the captain, who walked back and forth on the
bridge so that he could see every part of the deck beneath him by simply
turning his head, and watch the gunboats fall into line one after
another. The ease and rapidity with which this was done surprised him.
The several commanders knew their places and got into them in short
order, and without in any way interfering with the vessels around them.
If the inanimate masses of wood and iron they commanded had been
possessed of brains and knew what they were expected to do, they could
not have done it more promptly or with less confusion. It was a fine and
inspiriting sight, and Marcy Gray would have walked twenty miles to see
it any day.
"The flagship is signalling, sir," said a quartermaster who was on the
bridge with him and the captain.
Marcy turned about and saw a long line of different-colored streamers
traveling up the _Southfield's_ main-mast. When it reached the top and
the breeze had carried the flags out at full length so that the captain
could distinguish them, he took down the number they represented on a
slip of paper, and turned to the corresponding number in his book to see
what the signal meant. This he wrote upon a separate piece of paper
which he held in his hand.
By the time the vessel was fairly under way several signals had been
made from the commodore's flag-ship, and finally a rattle was sounded
somewhere below; whereupon the blue-jackets came running from all
directions, but without the least noise or disorder, and took their
stand by the side of the big guns to which they belonged. When the
command "cast loose and provide" had been obeyed and every man was in
his place, the roll was called by the commanders of the different
divisions, the sailors responding by giving the names of their stations
thus:
"George Williams."
"First captain and second boarder, sir."
"Walter Dowd."
"Second loader and first boarder, sir."
"James Smith."
"Shotman and pikeman, sir."
When the roll had been called the various division commanders reported
to the executive officer, who always has charge of the gun-deck in
action, and he approached the bridge on which the captain was standing,
saluted with his sword, and said:
"All present or accounted for, sir."
"Very good, sir," answered the captain, giving the officer the paper he
held in his hand. "There is what the commodore had to say to us in one
of his signals. Read it to the men."
Mr. Watkins went back to his station and took off his cap; and instantly
the eye of every sailor on deck was fixed upon him.
"This signal has just been made from the flag-ship," said Mr. Watkins,
holding the paper aloft. "Listen to the reading of it: '_This day our
country expects every man to do his duty!_' What have you men to say to
that? Will you show the commodore that you know what your duty is by
beating those fellows up there?"
The answer was a lusty cheer, in which the officers joined as wildly as
their men. Then cheers began coming from all directions, showing that
the reading of the signal had had the same effect upon other crews. When
the Stars and Stripes, the vessel that was to lead in the attack, went
by to take her station at the head of the line, her men were yelling at
the top of their voices; and when their cheers died away everything
became quiet, and the fleet settled down to business.
The first shot was fired at eleven o'clock. It was from a
hundred-pounder on the leading vessel, and was directed against Fort
Bartow. It was the signal for the opening of the contest, and was
quickly followed by such an uproar that Marcy Gray could hardly hear
himself think. He had always thought that a twenty-four pound howitzer
made a pretty loud noise, but it was nothing to the deafening and
continuous roar of the heavy guns that in a moment filled the air all
about him. He thought he ought to be badly frightened, and he expected
to be; but somehow he was not, and neither was he killed by the shell
from Fort Bartow that struck the water close alongside and exploded, it
seemed to him, almost under his feet. He was in full possession of his
senses, and the hand with which he levelled his glass at the Confederate
fleet was as steady as he had ever known it to be. He was particularly
interested in the movements of that fleet, for he was acquainted with
some of the sailors who manned it. As soon as the action was fairly
begun it left its sheltered position under the guns of the fort and
steamed down the channel. Its leading boats came on at such a rate of
speed that Marcy thought they must know of some opening in the lines of
obstructions, and that they intended to come through and demolish the
Union fleet without aid from the guns on shore; but if that was their
object they failed to accomplish it. Their heaviest ship, the _Curlew_,
was whipped so quickly that her rebel commander must have been
astonished; and so badly crippled was she by the solid shot that crashed
through her sides, that it was all she could do to haul out of the fight
and seek refuge under the guns of the nearest fort. In the end both the
ship and the fort were blown up together.
About this time something happened that the young pilot might have
expected, but which he had never once thought of. The smoke of battle
settled so thickly about his vessel that his eyes were of little use to
him; and, to make matters worse, Captain Benton shouted in his ear:
"Keep a bright lookout, and if you see us getting into less than
fourteen feet of water, don't fail to let me know it."
"I declare, I don't know whether there are fourteen or fourteen hundred
feet of water under our keel at this moment!" was the thought that
flashed through Marcy's mind and awoke him to a sense of his
responsibility. "I don't know where we are." Then aloud he said: "I
can't see a thing from the bridge, Captain. I shall have to go aloft."
The boy did not know whether or not pilots were in the habit of going
aloft in the heat of action, but he thought it was the proper thing to
do under the circumstances. He went, and he did not go any too soon,
either; for when he had climbed up where he could see over the thickest
of the smoke, he found to his consternation that the vessel was heading
diagonally across the channel far to the eastward of the position in
which she ought to be, that she would be hard and fast aground if she
held that course five minutes longer, and that her shells were exploding
in the edge of a piece of timber where he could not see any signs of a
fort or breastwork. It was the work of but a few seconds for Marcy to
make Captain Benton understand the situation, and when the latter had
brought his ship to her proper course by following the instructions the
young pilot shouted down to him, he came up and took his stand in the
top by Marcy's side. There they both remained as long as the fight
continued, and their dinner consisted of a sandwich and a cup of coffee,
which the cabin steward brought up to them at noon.
The first object of the bombardment was accomplished about five o'clock
that afternoon, when a heavy smoke was rolling over Fort Bartow, caused
by the burning of the barracks, which had been set on fire by a shell
from the fleet, the defiant roar of its guns being almost silenced, and
its flaunting banner sent to the dust by the shooting away of the staff
that sustained it, and the enemy, all along the line, had been driven so
far back that the transports could come up with the troops. It was at
this juncture that the services of Mr. Daniel's black boy, Tom, came
into play. He piloted General Burnside's launches and lighters into
Ashby's Harbor, and, by midnight, ten thousand soldiers were landed in
readiness for the real battle, which was to begin on the following
morning. By this time the Confederates must have been satisfied that
they were going to be whipped. Commodore Lynch knew that he had had all
the fighting he wanted; for he retreated round Wier's Point, and was
never seen afterward until Captain Rowan, with a portion of the Union
fleet, hunted him up, and finished him at Elizabeth City. The battle was
over shortly after dark (although the firing was kept up at intervals
during the night), and the leading boats dropped back to allow others to
take their places.
"We are not whipped, are we?" exclaimed Marcy, when he witnessed this
retrograde movement.
"Oh, no," replied the captain, as he backed down from the top. "We have
done just what we set out to do when we began the fight this morning,
and, having won all the honors that rightfully belong to us, we must
fall astern, and let somebody else have a show to-morrow."
Marcy followed the captain to the deck, and was greatly surprised by
what he saw when he got there. There were wide openings in the
hammock-nettings that he had not seen there in the morning, and the
ports, through which two of the broadside guns worked, had been torn
into one. Some of the standing rigging was not taut and ship-shape, as
it ought to have been, but was flying loose in the breeze, and there
were one or two dark spots on the deck which looked as though they had
been drenched with water, and afterward sanded. Marcy's heart almost
stopped beating when he saw these things, for they told him that the
vessel had suffered during the fight, and that some of her crew had been
killed or wounded, and he never knew it. But the sight of a flag which a
gray-headed quartermaster was just hauling down from the masthead, drove
gloomy thoughts out of his mind, and sent a thrill of triumph all
through him. It was his own flag, and it had been floating over his head
all day long. He took supper with Captain Benton, and afterward went
below to see the poor fellows who had not come out of the fight as well
as he did. Two of them were laid in the engine-room, covered with the
flag in defense of which they had given up their lives, and four others
were wounded. The sight was nothing to those that his rebel cousin,
Rodney, the Partisan, had often witnessed on the field of battle; but it
was enough to show Marcy Gray that there was a terrible reality in war.
The next day was the army's. The battle began at seven in the morning;
and although the gunboats, Captain Benton's among the rest, did the work
they were expected to do and succeeded in passing the obstructions
shortly after noon, the heaviest of the fighting was done by the
soldiers. The Confederate flag went down before the sun did, and
twenty-five hundred prisoners, forty heavy guns, and three thousand
stand of small arms fell into the hands of the victors. The Confederate
fleet endeavored to escape by running up the Pasquotank river to
Elizabeth City, Commodore Lynch thinking no doubt that he would there
find re-enforcements, which could easily have been sent from Portsmouth;
but if they were there they did not do him any good, for Captain Rowan
followed him into the river the next day, and destroyed his entire
squadron with the exception of one boat which was captured and
transferred to the Union fleet. After demolishing a portion of the
Dismal Swamp canal, Captain Rowan went to Edenton, Winton, and Plymouth,
all of which were captured without resistance that amounted to anything,
and garrisoned by troops from Burnside's army.
The historian says that the results of this expedition "in a military
point of view, were considerable; but those of a political character did
not answer the expectations of the Federal government." It was believed
that the occupation of these points would not only be the means of
stopping the contraband trade, which was kept up in spite of the
blockading fleet, but that it would also "keep in countenance the
partisans of the Union, who were thought to be numerous in North
Carolina." When the capture of Newbern, Beaufort, and forts Macon and
Pulaski, which followed close on the heels of the reduction of Roanoke
Island, put all the coast north of Wilmington into the hands of the
Federals, blockade running indeed became a dangerous and uncertain
business; but Marcy Gray could not see that the native Unionists were in
any way benefited. To begin with, General Burnside released all his
prisoners after compelling them to take oath that they would never again
serve against the United States. Does any one suppose that the prisoners
had any intention of keeping that promise, or that the Confederate
government would have permitted them to keep it if they had been so
disposed? It is true that some of these rebel soldiers had had quite
enough of the army, and vowed that they would take to the swamps before
they would enter it again; but it is also true that the most of them,
when they returned to their homes, became determined and relentless foes
of all Union men. So the conquest of Roanoke Island gave Marcy Gray more
enemies to stand in fear of than he had before; but it had a still worse
effect upon his affairs.
It was night when the soldiers that were to take possession of Plymouth
and garrison the place were sent ashore from the transports. Marcy stood
on the bridge, watching them as they disembarked, and wondering how long
it would be before Captain Benton would tell him that his services were
no longer needed and that he might return to his home; and, while he
watched and thought, he discovered a small party of men on shore with
bundles in their hands or on their shoulders, and who acted as though
they were waiting for a chance to come off to the fleet. He knew, as
soon as he looked at them, that they were Union men who were about to
take the opportunity thus presented to enlist under the old flag.
"That is who they are," thought Marcy, after he had kept his binoculars
pointed at them for a minute or two. "They can't be anything else, for
they are in citizens' clothes. Now, in trying to better their own
condition, are they not making matters worse for their families, if they
have any? I wonder if I am acquainted with any of them? I will soon
know, for they are heading for this ship."
The boats belonging to Captain Benton's vessel had been engaged, with
all the other boats of the fleet, in taking the soldiers to the shore,
and when they placed their last load of bluecoats upon the bank and were
ready to return to their ship, they brought the party of which we have
spoken off with them. As the leading boat drew nearer to the side, so
that Marcy could obtain a fairer view of the man who sat in the
stern-sheets talking to the coxswain, he uttered a cry of surprise and
alarm, and almost let his glass fall from his hand. The man was Aleck
Webster.