CHAPTER XI.

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.

Marcy, the Refugee · 第 11 / 18 章