RETURN OF THE EXPEDITION.
Precisely what Jack’s feeling were when he saw his friends pass on
without him, and the rebels drawing near, it would be difficult to say.
They were not pleasant; and it may have occurred to him that all the
dismal forebodings of old Grummet were to be realized.
“Stand by that man!” said the rebel captain as he passed him.
The soldier to whom this order was given, was, no doubt, very glad to
obey it; for Jack looked like a puny opponent, and there was a prospect
of a sharp fight with the blue-jackets when they reached their boat.
But the soldier made a slight mistake; for Jack had no intention of
being made a prisoner by any single rebel in the Confederacy. He had a
cutlass and a pistol; and he knew that his enemy’s gun was not loaded.
Jack jumped up, and confronted the soldier as soon as he reached the
spot; the main body still pursuing the sailors. He was a tall, stout
fellow, and looked as ugly as a human being could look.
“Drop that cutlass!” said the rebel soldier as he placed himself in the
attitude of “charge bayonets.”
“Drop that gun!” replied Jack, elevating his large naval revolver.
“That’s your game, is it, Yank?” added the rebel, retreating a few
paces, evidently not pleased with the situation.
“That’s my game, reb. I say, drop that gun, or there’ll be a dead man
round here somewhere.”
“That’s rather sharp, Yank!” replied the crest-fallen soldier, too
proud to obey the order.
“I see you’re not going to do what I told you: so we may as well finish
this business before it gets any later, especially as I’ve got some
tall running to do.”
The soldier threw down the gun, and Jack picked it up. As he did so,
he heard the report of fire-arms in the direction of the boat, and saw
that the sailors, being hard pressed by their pursuers, had turned upon
them.
“Take off that cartridge-box and the rest of your traps!” continued
Jack.
The man obeyed; and Jack proceeded to load the musket, the rebel
watching the operation in surly silence.
“Now, reb,” said he, when he had returned the ramrod and capped the
piece, “I want to see you run. Make tracks towards that hotel. If you
turn to the right or the left, or look behind you, I shall just put
this bullet through you. Now, double-quick, forward, march!”
The rebel could not do otherwise than obey; and, to do him full
justice, he did obey the orders of his captor to the letter. As soon as
a reasonable distance lay between him and the soldier, Jack turned his
attention to the exciting events which were transpiring in the vicinity
of the first cutter.
The party had driven back the soldiers by an impetuous charge upon them
with cutlass and revolver, and the rebels had taken time to reload
their muskets. They were now in line, firing upon the boat-party.
Jack’s chance of escape was not yet first-rate; for the rebels were
between him and his friends. He could not move in that direction, and
it was not prudent to remain where he was. The only line of retreat
open to him was the road to the point on which the captured redoubt was
situated.
With the musket on his shoulder, and the cutlass and pistol in his
belt, he moved off in this direction, and soon reached the road. While
he was retreating with due diligence, he heard the report of the first
cutter’s howitzer, which assured him that his party had reached the
boat. He was exceedingly gratified at this result; though it might
provoke the soldiers to pursue him, when they were released from duty.
To prevent any such catastrophe as being recaptured, he quickened his
pace to a run, which soon brought him in sight of the fort.
Out of breath, and very much fatigued, he reached the battery, and
reported himself to Mr. McBride. He told his story in full to the
lieutenant, who, fearing that the first cutter’s people might still be
hard pressed by the rebels, immediately ordered the third cutter to
pull up the bay to their assistance. Jack was sent in her as pilot, and
to report himself to Mr. Granger. With the musket in his hand to verify
his report, he stepped into the boat.
The third cutter reached the place where the party had landed. Mr.
Granger’s boat was there in charge of four men. The cockswain reported
that the soldiers had been beaten off, and that the rest of the crew
had gone upon shore again; where, or for what, he could not answer. Mr.
Light, the master’s mate, with most of his men, landed at once, and
hastened towards the road to find them. They had proceeded but a short
distance before they met the party returning to the boat.
“Why are you here, Mr. Light?” demanded Mr. Granger.
“We heard you were in trouble; and Mr. McBride sent me up to render
assistance, if any were needed.”
“We are all right now, though we have had two men killed, three
wounded, and one captured. Young Somers was taken prisoner.”
“I beg pardon, your honor,” said Jack, stepping forward and touching
his hat: “that’s a mistake!”
“Somers!” exclaimed Mr. Granger.
“My darling!” exclaimed Tom Longstone, springing forward, and throwing
his arms around him.
“Hurrah!” shouted the men, with whom Jack was a great favorite.
“How’s this, Somers?” asked Mr. Granger, whose pleasant smile indicated
the satisfaction which Jack’s reappearance afforded him. “I thought you
were taken by the rebels.”
“No, sir; I wasn’t taken. I took the rebel who was sent to capture me.”
“How was that?”
“He ordered me to drop my cutlass; and I ordered him to drop his
musket. As I had a loaded pistol in my hand, he had the worst of it.
I picked up the gun, and loaded it. Then I told him to run up to the
hotel yonder, or I would shoot him. He did so; and that’s the last I
saw of him. Here is the musket, sir.”
“Why didn’t you come down to the boat then?”
“Because the rebels were between you and me, sir. I was afraid I
couldn’t whip the whole of them: so I ran down to the fort.”
“Bravo, Somers!” said Mr. Granger, laughing at the manner the story was
told, no less than at the story itself.
The commander of the expedition then ordered the dead and the wounded
men to be conveyed to the first cutter; and the boats returned to the
steamer. The men were sad for the loss of their companions, and little
was said on the passage. On their arrival at the point, all the brave
fellows who had fallen during the day were reverently committed to the
earth, prayers being said by Mr. Granger; while all who could be spared
stood uncovered around the grave.
The work for the day was finished. The ram had been destroyed, an armed
steamer captured, and some valuable information had been obtained by
Mr. Granger. The result was entirely satisfactory to all, except old
Grummet; and the expedition started on its return to the ship. The
boats were all towed astern of the steamer, and the men had nothing to
do but to talk over the events of the day.
It was three bells in the dog-watches, when the people on the deck of
the Harrisburg discovered a steamer, with the stars and stripes over
the stars and bars at her stern, approaching them. The arrival caused
some excitement on board; and three stunning cheers welcomed the
victors back to the ship. Captain Mainwright took Mr. Granger by the
hand, and congratulated him upon the success of the expedition. That
night there was such a spinning of yarns on board the Harrisburg as had
never been known before. Every man who had been with the expedition
was a hero; but Jack Somers was regarded as something better than a
hero. He was commended by the officers, and lauded by the crew; and,
if he had not been a very sensible young man, his head would have been
turned by the lavish praise which was bestowed upon him.
Jack had a strong friend in the wardroom,--one who could command
the ear of the captain; and, if our hero could have heard what was
said about him by these distinguished persons in the cabin, he might
well have been dazzled by the prospects in store for him. They were
discussing a plan for his future advancement; which, in due time, will
be revealed to our readers.
Our sailor-boy bore his honors with tolerable self-possession. His
fame had extended beyond his own ship, and his position as cockswain
of the captain’s gig frequently brought him to the notice of the naval
and military officers on the station. His modesty, however, prevented
him from making a fool of himself; and, wherever he went, he was a
universal favorite.
My readers must not suppose that there was no one else at Ship Island
but Jack Somers, because he happens to be the central figure of our
picture; or that the rest of the people there had nothing to do but
to praise him. There was, at this time, a mighty expedition gathering
there, which was destined to achieve one of the grandest and most
brilliant operations recorded in the annals of war. Jack was only a
very humble individual in the vast throng; and we doubt whether General
Butler or Flag-officer Farragut ever heard that there was such a person.
It was fortunate for Jack that he did not consider himself the greatest
man in the fleet; as any self-sufficiency of that kind would have
placed him in a very unpleasant position. He was still content to touch
his cap to Mr. Midshipman Dickey, and to discharge all his duties
on board with promptness and fidelity. In his letters to his mother,
he related his adventures with the expedition: but Mr. Bankhead, in
writing to his friends, gave a more glowing account of the affair;
which, in due time, was conveyed to Pinchbrook.
“All hands up anchor, ahoy!” piped the boatswain, one morning, about a
week after the boat-expedition.
Jack sprang to his place at the capstan, buoyant with hope that the day
of action had again arrived. Every man at Ship Island knew that some
stupendous enterprise was about to be undertaken; though none but a few
of the higher officers of the army and navy knew what it was.
“Where do you suppose we are going now, Tom?” asked Jack when the ship
was fairly under way.
“Don’t know, my bantling; but you may be sure, if there’s any big thing
to be done, this ship will be there,” replied Tom. “We’re headed to the
south’ard.”
“Perhaps we are going down to the Mississippi.”
“Maybe we be, Jack.”
That evening, the Harrisburg arrived at Pass à l’Outre; and, on the
two following days, she made several attempts to cross the bar, and
enter the Mississippi, but without success. She then went round to the
South-west Pass; where she crossed the bar, and proceeded up the river
to Pilot Town.
At this place, Jack learned that the seamen in the navy have something
to do besides drawing their pay and eating their “grub.” The topmasts
were sent down, and the ship stripped for action. Everything not
required for immediate service was sent on shore, and a guard of
marines stationed there to protect the property. It was a hard day’s
work; and Jack’s hammock never felt so good as it did that night when
he was permitted to “turn in.”
The guns were all shotted, in readiness for an attack; for the rebels
had a fleet of rams and ironclads up the river, with which they had
already made one demonstration against the blockading-fleet. After
these preparations were completed, the Harrisburg steamed up to the
head of the Passes. But here she again mocked the eager expectations of
the seamen; for no forward movement was made for a month.
There was occasionally an incident to vary the monotony of the scene.
The arrival of the mortar-fleet, the discovery and destruction of a
telegraph-wire extending across the river, afforded brief periods of
excitement; but all were anxious to pour a few broadsides into Forts
Jackson and St. Philip; for there was no longer any doubt that the
reduction of these fortifications was the object of the expedition.
On the 16th of April, another fever of expectation was produced by the
ship getting under way again, and going up to the head of the fleet,
consisting of fifty-one men-of-war; where she anchored, much to the
disappointment of the gallant tars. But the next week realized all
their anticipations, and immortalized every man of them.