CHAPTER XVIII.BRAVE OLD SALT.The most extensive and careful preparations were in progress for the events which, a few days later, astonished the world even more than the splendid achievements of the fleet below New Orleans. The squadron off the mouth of Mobile Bay had been actively employed for several days in sending down top-masts, superfluous spars, and rigging. Chain cables had been extended over the sides of the ships where the machinery was exposed to injury from the shot and shell of the fort. Chains and sand bags were placed on the decks where plunging shot might disable the engines. Boats were removed from the starboard to the port sides, for the fleet was to go in with Fort Morgan on the right, and close aboard of them.The preparations were advancing when Somers reported on board of the Chatauqua, and of course he at once experienced the inspiration of coming events. If there was any man in the navy whom he admired and reverenced, that man was Admiral Farragut. It is true,he was not singular in this respect, for every man in the fleet was equally devoted to him. The "Old Salamander," who seemed never to be happier than when in the midst of the hottest fire which the engines of modern warfare could produce, was the idol of both officers and seamen. He was an honest, just, and humane man, one who involuntarily won the respect of every person with whom he came into contact.We were never more thoroughly impressed by the honesty, justice, and humanity of a man, than when we took the hand of this "Brave Old Salt." His expressive eye, and his gentle, but dignified bearing, spoke more truly and forcibly of what he was, than the most elaborate biography which the pen of genius could produce. It almost passes belief that men can stand up and work and fight as officers and seamen worked and fought between Forts Jackson and St. Philip, and at Mobile Bay; but we can think of no better inspiration than the leadership of such a man as Admiral Farragut.He was born in Tennessee—a southern state; his home was in Virginia—a southern state—at the breaking out of the rebellion. With all the motives which actuated Lee and Johnston, Tatnall and Hollins, to induce him to abandon the old flag under which he had fought in early youth, and served through all his manhood, he remained true to his country in the hour of her severest trial. Neither bribes nor threats could movehim, and not for one instant did he falter in his devotion to the flag he had sworn to sustain against all foes. Glory, honor, and immortality in the hearts of his countrymen to the noble Admiral!As a naval commander, he has no rival in the past or the present, in this or in any country. He has achieved, once, twice, thrice, what any board of naval officers that could have been convened from the boldest and most skilful naval heroes of the united nations, would have solemnly pronounced impossible. Chance might have given him the Lower Mississippi—it did not; but it could not have given him that and Mobile Bay, and the brilliant exploits up the Great River. Chance is capricious; it never metes out uniform success.Admiral Farragut is not simply a brave and skilful seaman, for the stroke of genius shines out in all his battle plans, in all his preparations, and in all his movements, whether on the silent river, as his majestic ship leads in the van to the conflict, or under the most deadly and destructive fire that ever was rained down on a wooden hull. "Brave Old Salt" in the main rigging of the Hartford, as she breasted the storm of shot and shell from Fort Morgan, is a spectacle more sublime than can be presented in the annals of any other nation. The position he chose for himself on that momentous occasion, more truly indicates the key to his marvellous success than any other fact in connection with the battle. Hewas not there to expose himself needlessly to deadly peril; he was there to see and take advantage of the issues of the battle.His position was a symbol of the intelligence and bravery which won the great battle. He saw with his own eyes—not with others; while his glorious personal devotion was a type for every other man, which was imitated from commodores down to powder-boys. We read of a general who could not remember where he was during one of the severest and most destructive fights of the war. If he had been in a position corresponding to that of the doughty old admiral, it would have been difficult for him to forget it. But personal bravery alone does not win the battle on the sea or the land. The admiral's victories are due even more to his genius—to his persevering industry in the elaboration of preparatory details."Brave Old Salt," as Somers always called him, was our young officer's beau-ideal of a naval commander. "Brave" he certainly was, and "Old Salt," to a sailor, means something more than a long experience at sea. It conveys to the nautical mind an idea of skill which no "lubber" can possess. It was bravery, seamanship, and those peculiar qualities which an "old salt" possesses, that made him great on the quarter deck, in command of a squadron.Somers's admiration for the commander-in-chief of thefleet off Mobile Bay was of no recent origin. Since he had first known him as "Flag Officer Farragut" at Ship Island, before the grade of Rear and Vice Admiral had been created in our navy, he had reverenced him as a superior man, and looked up to him with an almost superstitious awe. He could hardly realize that they were both of the same earthly mould, with the like human hopes and aspirations. Though, for a young man of his age, Somers regarded his rank of master as very high, it did not permit him to abate one jot or tittle of the distance which lay between him and the admiral. He did not feel any better entitled to tread the same deck with the glorious old hero, as a master, than he did as an ordinary seaman.Somers returned to active duty as soon as he had reported to the first lieutenant of the Chatauqua, and he had the deck in the first dog watch on the day of his arrival. During the afternoon watch he had had plenty of time to report the incidents of his cruise in the Ben Nevis. Mr. Hackleford had immediately communicated to the captain the facts concerning Pillgrim's letter, and the recreant lieutenant's papers had been carefully overhauled in search of anything which would shed a ray of light upon the statements of the strange letter.The only document which looked at all hopeful was a note written in cipher, to which there was no key among the papers. If the communication had been in Chineseor Chaldaic, there might have been a chance of unravelling it; as it was, the note was written in arbitrary characters, which were as cabalistic and unintelligible as the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Somers was annoyed and discomfited, for he had confidently reckoned upon finding some letter which contained a hint to guide him. There was nothing but this note in cipher.To add to his chagrin, Mr. Hackleford was utterly sceptical in regard to Pillgrim's letter—did not believe the first word of it—called it "gas," and declared that it would be stupid and childish to pay the least attention to the document. Captain Cascabel fully concurred with him in this opinion, and both of them laughed at Somers for bestowing a second thought upon it."Nonsense! Mr. Somers!" exclaimed the first lieutenant. "There isn't a single scintillation of truth in the story. If there were even a glimmering of reality in the thing, I would look into it.""But Mr. Pillgrim told me some truth in regard to the Ben Nevis," argued Somers."That is the best reason in the world for believing he has not done so in this instance," said Mr. Hackleford."I suppose I must give up the idea, then.""You must, indeed. If you don't, I am afraid your reputation for common sense and good judgment will suffer.""Will you allow me to take this letter in cipher, and keep it till to-morrow?" asked Somers."Certainly."Somers took the letter, and put it into his pocket until he had an opportunity to study its mystic characters. He was mortified by the rebuff he had received, but his faith, though somewhat shaken, was not destroyed. He was officer of the deck from four till six. Just before he was relieved, he ordered the side to be manned to receive the captain, who was just returning from a visit to the flag-ship.As he touched his cap to Captain Cascabel, he noticed a smile on his commander's face, which seemed to relate to him, and he blushed beneath the pleasant, but expressive glance bestowed upon him."Mr. Somers," said the captain.The officer of the deck stepped forward, and saluted the commander again."You are invited to dine with Admiral Farragut to-morrow afternoon.""I, sir!" exclaimed Somers, completely overwhelmed by this remarkable declaration."Rear Admiral Farragut presents his compliments to Mr. Somers, and would be happy to see him at dinner to-morrow, on board the Hartford."The captain passed on to the companion-way, leading to his cabin, leaving Somers as bewildered as though he had been invited to dine with Queen Victoria, Louis Napoleon, and the Emperor of Russia; indeed, he regarded it as a much greater honor to dine with "Brave OldSalt," than to put his feet under the mahogany of the mightiest crowned head of the world. It was evident that somebody had been talking to the admiral about him; the captain and the first lieutenant of the Chatauqua certainly felt kindly enough towards him to do so.To dine with Admiral Farragut! That was glory enough for a lifetime; or at least to be deemed worthy of such a distinction. Our friend Somers was no snob; he "looked up" to great people, especially to those who were really great. He pretended to no familiarity with his superiors, though some of the officers were dying with envy at the notice taken of him by the captain and first lieutenant of the ship. He did not assume to be familiar with men who had won a deathless fame in defending their country's cause. Perhaps there was not an officer in the fleet who would so highly appreciate such a compliment as that of which he was now the happy recipient.When he was relieved from the deck, and went down into the ward-room, the news had gone before him, and the "idlers" there congratulated him upon his rising fame. But Somers broke away from them as soon as he could decently do so, and shut himself up in his state-room. He was actually dizzy at the idea of sitting down at the table with "Brave Old Salt" in the cabin of the Hartford; and though he took the cabalistic note of Mr. Pillgrim from his pocket, at least half an hour was wasted before he could apply his mind undividedly to thedifficult problem before him. Finally, the hope of making a grand revelation to the admiral on the morrow fired his zeal to such a pitch that the work looked like play to him.Somers opened the mysterious document and spread it out on the desk, at which he seated himself. It looked dark and hopeless, with its dots and dashes, its horizontals and perpendiculars, its curves and crosses. We present the note in full, that our readers may be able to appreciate the difficulty of the task he had undertaken.If Somers had been a student of the occult sciences, he might have been more hopeful. An hour's hard study brought a gleam of light. He thought the note must be signed by Langdon. There were seven letters in the signature. This was his first ray of hope. He then placed all the letters of the alphabet in a column, and against each made the character that represented it in the cipher. Six letters were thus interpreted.The next step was to place each of the letters thus discovered over its sign in the note. The second and third words of the epistle then stood, the eights being for undiscovered letters, as follows: 88nxlo8ond."Ben Lomond!" exclaimed Somers, as he gave a smart rap on the desk to indicate his joy at the discovery.Three more letters were gained, and the oblique cross was only a mark to divide the words. The three letters before Ben Lomond must be, t h e. The solution began to be easy, though it required a long time to reach it. At midnight, when he was called to take the mid watch, he had it written out as follows:—Washington, Twentieth of June.The Ben Lomond is at Mobile, fitting out. Mallory gives you the command. The forts will be attacked by the first of August. You must get her out before that time.Langdon.CHAPTER XIX.THE BOAT EXPEDITION.At general quarters, on the following day, Somers looked somewhat care-worn. It was midnight when he had worked out the solution of the cipher, and at this hour he had been called to take the mid watch. But there was no happier or more exultant man in the fleet. His conquest over the cabalistic letter had confirmed his theory. The Ben Lomond was not a myth, and she was at Mobile. Pillgrim had expressed a desire to see Somers again, and there was a fair prospect that he might yet be able to do so.The important event of this day was the dinner with "Brave Old Salt." But the letter and the dinner seemed to be inseparably connected. Somers had given the translation to the first lieutenant, who, to the chagrin and mortification of the persevering student, did not appear to attach much importance to the letter."If the Tallapoosa, or Ben Lomond, is in the bay, we shall soon have her," said Mr. Hackleford, "for we are going to make the attack on the forts within a few days.""The attack may fail, and thus afford an opportunity for the cruiser to come out," suggested Somers."Fail?"The third lieutenant of the Chatauqua stood abashed before the look of his superior. He did not believe that any attack made by Admiral Farragut could fail, but it was possible for the Confederate steamer to run the blockade, as hundreds had done before her, especially as she could steam sixteen knots."I don't think the attack will fail, sir; but even a victory might afford the Ben Lomond a chance to run out.""I don't think there is much chance; but Captain Cascabel has your solution of the letter under consideration. Perhaps the admiral may have something to say about it."Somers was not satisfied with the reception given to his revelation. He had already formed a plan for ascertaining where the Ben Lomond was, but the cool manner in which his communication was received prevented him from even mentioning it.In the afternoon, the captain's gig came up to the accommodation ladder, and the commander, attended by Somers, seated himself in the stern-sheets. Captain Cascabel was received with due honors on the quarter deck of the Hartford, where the gallant admiral was walking at the time.When his superior had been welcomed with dignified cordiality, Captain Cascabel introduced Somers. Theadmiral bowed, smiled pleasantly, and did not look patronizingly upon the young officer, as he might have been pardoned for doing. As he stood there on the quarter deck of the flag-ship, he was full of genuine dignity and true manliness—a noble representative of the American naval commander. He was of medium stature, well formed, and of elegant proportions. He seemed to be made of nerves and muscles, and when he moved there was an elastic spring to his frame, which impressed the observer with the idea of energy and vigor. He did not appear to stand on the deck, but to be poised independently in the air, resting on the planks beneath him more because it was the fashion to do so, than because he had any need of such support.Somers removed his cap, made his best bow, and blushed like a summer rose. He was deeply impressed by the glance of the admiral, and the atmosphere around him seemed to be full of the man at whom he gazed in reverent admiration."Mr. Somers, I am happy to see you," said the admiral, in a tone so gentle and affable that it seemed to remove the "curse" of greatness far from him. "I have heard of you before, and I doubt not we shall be able to make you very useful to your country.""Thank you, sir," replied Somers, not daring to say any more, and with the feeling of his childhood, that "boys ought to be seen, not heard."The admiral, with this judicious commendation, turned to Captain Cascabel, and opened conversation with him, evidently determined not to spoil the young man by taking too much notice of him. Somers was soon at home with the officers of the Hartford, and behaved himself with becoming modesty and discretion. He dined with the admiral, several other officers of distinction being present. The conversation at the table, singularly enough, it may appear to our readers, did not relate to the war, or even to the navy. These topics appeared to be carefully excluded, though the reserve on this occasion was probably accidental.Somers found sufficient pleasure in looking at and listening to the admiral, and the other distinguished officers, though he was not ignored, being kindly encouraged, by an occasional question, to use his voice. But he was not forward, and his very nature prevented him from indulging in any of that impudent familiarity which is so offensive to elderly men, especially if they occupy high positions.After dinner, a matter of business came up, and it soon appeared that Captain Cascabel had given the admiral all the particulars relating to the Ben Lomond, including the letter in cipher, which Somers had interpreted. The conversation took place in private, with only the three persons present who were most intimately concerned. The letter was exhibited, and its solution explained."Mr. Somers, what is your plan? I am informed that you have one," said the admiral."I have one, sir, but I hardly hope it will merit your approbation," replied the third lieutenant of the Chatauqua."We will hear it, if you please. By the way, our picket boats report that a steamer came down the bay this morning, and moored inside the Middle Ground. It may be the one mentioned in your letter—the Tallapoosa.""Probably it is, sir. She can now only be waiting the arrival of Lieutenant Pillgrim, who is to command her.""We must capture that man. State your plan, Mr. Somers."The young officer, with no little trepidation, related the particulars of the method he had considered for the capture of the Ben Lomond."Very daring and impudent, Mr. Somers," said the admiral, as he glanced with a meaning smile at Captain Cascabel."Mr. Somers'sforteis daring and impudence. But his scheme, besides being based on mere theory, is absolutely fool-hardy," added the captain, throwing a whole bucket of cold water on the young officer's prospects."I do not wholly agree with you, captain. By the report of the picket boats, there is certainly a sea-goingsteamer in the bay. That, in a measure, confirms Mr. Somers's theory. Now, if the vessel is there, the young man may bring her out if he has the ability to do so.""What force do you require, Mr. Somers?""The first cutter of the Chatauqua, and twenty-four men.""You shall have them, Mr. Somers," said the admiral. "Instead of the first cutter, I suggest a whale-boat, which will not be much more than half as heavy.""That would be better, sir," replied Somers, hardly able to conceal the joy and exultation he felt at the prospect of being permitted to carry out his plan."Captain, you will permit Mr. Somers to pick his men, and afford him every facility for the execution of his purpose.""I will, with pleasure, sir.""When do you wish to begin, Mr. Somers?" asked the admiral."To-night, sir.""Very well. The monitors haven't arrived, captain, and it may be a fortnight before we make the attack on the forts. The steamer may run out in a fog or storm before that time, and I think we do well to prevent another Tuscaloosa from preying on the commerce of the country.""Undoubtedly, sir, if we can.""Mr. Somers's scheme may possibly succeed, though Ido not think his chances of cutting out the steamer are very encouraging.""I am afraid not, admiral," answered Captain Cascabel, incredulously."Mr. Somers, your reputation would be seriously damaged by the failure of your enterprise. Your officers would be more unwilling to trust you than they are now if you should meet with a disaster.""I could not complain. I do not intend to meet with any disaster. If I do nothing better, I shall bring my men back with me."The admiral laughed, and seemed to be pleased with this confidence, while Captain Cascabel shook his head."Mr. Somers, the risk is very great. You and your men may be prisoners in Fort Morgan within twenty-four hours. A failure would damage, if not ruin you. Are you still ready to undertake the work?" asked the admiral."I am, sir.""Remember that everything depends upon yourself. My best wishes for your success go with you."Somers needed no better inspiration, and his frame seemed to jerk and spring like that of Brave Old Salt, when he realized that he was actually to undertake his cherished purpose.The gig pulled back to the Chatauqua, and Somers immediately commenced his preparations. The cordialindorsement of the admiral was enough to silence all opposition, and to "put a stopper on the jaw-tackle of all croakers." He was earnestly seconded by the captain and his officers. In a short time a light whale-boat was towed up, and made fast to the boom.Somers's first duty was to select his crew. He was to engage in a desperate enterprise, and everything must depend upon the skill and bravery, as well as the silence and discretion, of his force. The first person selected was the boatswain, Tom Longstone, who, being better acquainted with the qualities of the seamen, was intrusted with the selection of the boat's crew. Just as soon as it was discovered that some daring enterprise was to be undertaken by the third lieutenant, he was beset by eager applicants for a place in the boat. Acting ensigns, masters' mates, midshipmen, indeed, all the officers below Somers in rank, begged to be appointed.The young commander of the expedition was prudent and cautious, and he accepted the services of none. Tom Longstone was the only officer to accompany him. The boatswain would obey his orders without asking any questions, or bothering him with any advice."There, Mr. Somers, I have picked out the twenty-four best men in the ship—men that will work, fight, and hold their tongues," said Boatswain Longstone, when he had executed the important trust committed to him."Thank you, boatswain. What do you think of the weather?""It's going to be a nasty night.""So much the better. Let every man take his pea-jacket; apply to the armorer for revolvers and cutlasses for each of them.""A howitzer, Mr. Somers?""No; we must go as light as possible," replied Somers, as he proceeded to instruct the boatswain in regard to certain "slings" and other rigging that would be wanted.Boatswain Longstone did not ask a single question about the nature or object of the enterprise; and with the exception of the admiral, and the captain and first lieutenant of the Chatauqua, not a man in the fleet besides Somers knew "what was up." It was necessary to conduct the enterprise with the utmost caution and secrecy.The boatswain's predictions in regard to the weather proved to be entirely correct, for at eight bells, when the first watch was set, it was dark, foggy, and rainy. Somers had calculated upon this weather, when he had so promptly chosen the time for his venture. It was just the night for a difficult and dangerous enterprise, and the fog and the darkness were its best friends. While the boatswain was carrying out the orders given him, Somers had been engaged at the desk in his state-room, preparingfor use certain papers, including his commander's commission in the Confederate navy, and his letter of instructions, intended for the Ben Nevis, or Louisiana. With his knife he scratched, and with his pen he wrote, until the documents suited his present purpose; and they were placed in his pocket.At two bells—nine o'clock in the evening—while the rain poured down in torrents, Somers embarked with his force, consisting of Tom Longstone and twenty-four as athletic and resolute fellows as ever pulled an oar or handled a cutlass. The whale-boat was crowded, though it was of the largest size, being thirty feet in length. The oars were carefully muffled, and the seamen were so disposed that the oarsmen could be relieved without noise.Wrapping his overcoat closely around him, Somers seated himself in the stern-sheets of the whale-boat, with the boatswain at his side. Though profoundly impressed by the magnitude and danger of the work in which he was engaged, he could not help thinking of the changes which had checkered his lot, since, two years before, he had sat in the first cutter of the Harrisburg, as an ordinary seaman. Now he was a master, and in command of the expedition. Tom Longstone had been with him then; he was with him now. In low tones, they talked of that eventful night, and of the changes which had occurred since that time.Somers was grateful for his advancement, and thanked God that he had been enabled to perform his duty so as to merit the favor of his superiors. And in the depths of his heart he asked God to bless his present exertions for the good of his country. He leaned on the Good Father even in this exciting hour, and his religious faith was the strength of his arm.CHAPTER XX.THE PICKET BOAT.Through the deep darkness and the dense fog the boat made its way. There was not an object to be seen, on ship or shore, to guide its course; and in front of Somers there was a patent binnacle, whose lights were reflected on the compass, but did not even soften the gloom without, into which he continued to gaze with the most anxious solicitude. He had carefully estimated the currents the whale-boat would encounter, and calculated the force of the wind, so as to determine her lee-way with the nicest practicable accuracy.The young commander of the expedition hoped to strike a certain point of the land to the eastward of the fort on Mobile Point, distant five and a half miles from the ship. Half a mile east or west of the desired point might involve him in serious if not fatal difficulties, and everything depended upon the accuracy of his calculations. His early experience as a boatman at Pinchbrook Harbor was of incalculable service to him, since nothingcan supply the place of actual observation in the making of such nice estimates as were required for success in the present instance.The rain poured down in torrents, and the sea was rough and uneasy; but Somers, never for an instant turned aside from the grand object before him by the discomforts of his situation, watched his compass and closely observed every motion of the whale-boat. He was fired with zeal, but he was not excited, for he knew how much depended upon cool judgment and careful execution of the details of his work."Breakers ahead!" said the bowman, in a low tone; and the words were passed aft to the officer.Breakers were to be expected; and of course Somers was not appalled by the announcement. The boat dashed on till she reached the broken water; but the surf on the shore, thrown up by the storm, was absolutely fearful. A stunning roar broke upon the ears of the young officer as the frail craft approached the foaming billows that shattered themselves on the beach."That's a heavy surf, Mr. Somers," said Tom Longstone."So much the better," replied the officer, cheerfully."This whale-boat will not be much better than a cockle-shell in that surf.""She will go through it, if she is well handled.""Ay, ay, sir; of course she will.""The rebels will not expect a boat to land in such a surf and on such a night. We shall not be expected," replied Somers, in a loud tone, for whispers and soft speech could not be heard above the roar of the billows.The commander of the expedition stood up in the stern-sheets, and attempted to penetrate the gloom and fog in the direction of the beach; but neither sight nor sound of the shore could be obtained. To plunge through that boiling surf upon a rebel battery or an artillery company, would be a sad conclusion of the night's work; but even this must be risked, for it was not possible to obtain a single item of information in regard to the surroundings on shore."Oars!" shouted Somers, when he had completed his unsatisfactory survey shoreward, and there was not the slightest danger of his order being heard by an enemy beyond the thundering roll of the sea. "Hold water!"The onward progress of the boat was stopped."Back the starboard, pull the port oars!" added the officer, who had now taken the management of the boat out of the hands of the coxswain. "Oars!" he continued, when the boat was turned so as to head directly from the shore."Now, my lads, pull steady, and mind the orders promptly," said the confident young officer. "There's a heavy surf; but if you pull strong, and mind quick, we shall be through it in a moment.""Ay, ay, sir!" responded the blue-jackets."Stern, all!" continued Somers, when he had carefully observed the sweep of the last wave.The oarsmen backed water, and the boat moved towards the shore, stern foremost. In a moment she was lifted up by a great billow and swept furiously towards the beach."Steady!" said Somers, gazing forward over the heads of the men, watching the approach of the next foam-crested wave.The men were entirely cool, and their iron muscles held the boat under perfect control. A huge roller was coming in, fiercely, rapidly, at double or triple the speed of the whale-boat, and the first great peril of the surf was at hand.The danger was, as our inexperienced readers may not understand, that the stern of the boat, suddenly struck by the swift-flying wave, would be lifted high in air, and the bow forced under; or that the boat would broach to, and be rolled over in the sea. In either case the boat would be swamped, and eventually be stove on the beach. Somers saw one of these rushing billows coming down with frightful velocity upon the whale-boat."Oars!" cried he; and the men ceased backing her."Give way!" he added, with an energy which was at once communicated to the muscles of the men; andthey pulled steadily, as a well-disciplined crew always does, but with a firmness and strength which caused the boat to dart forward towards the savage roller.She met the billow; her bow rose upon it; she passed over without being ingulfed by it."Oars! Hold water! Stern, all!" continued the young officer; and again the whale-boat moved towards the shore.The manœuvre described was repeated several times, until the boat had passed through the surf, and struck heavily on the sandy beach. The men in the bow were then ordered to jump into the water; and as the forward part was thus lightened, the successive rollers bore the boat farther and farther upon the beach, until the whole crew were landed. The first step of the expedition had been safely accomplished.Somers ordered the men to haul up the boat high and dry upon the beach. There was not a person to be seen, or a sound to be heard, which indicated the presence of an enemy. The young officer had now to prove the correctness of his calculations, for as yet he knew not upon what portion of the point he had landed. A careful survey of the ground was therefore immediately to be made. It was necessary to have assistance in this; and Somers selected two first-class firemen, very intelligent men, machinists and engineers, who were in training for situations in government ships. They had been brought towork the engine of the Ben Lomond, if, fortunately, she were captured.Tom Longstone was left in charge of the boat and crew, and the two firemen followed the commander of the expedition, who moved towards the north. When he had proceeded a short distance, he explained to his companions his object."About an eighth of a mile from the beach," said he, "there is a creek, which widens into a little bay. I wish to find this creek; it will lead us into Mobile Bay. Conant, you will go east, and, Wade, you will go west. You must be very careful, or you will lose your way. You will not go more than half a mile, as nearly as you can judge, in either direction. If you find it, return to the beach, and take notice of the best way to reach it."The firemen parted, and Somers moved forward himself. He did not find the creek in the direction he had chosen, and returned to the beach, after a search of about an hour. Wade was there before him; but Conant had not yet made his appearance, though he did not long delay the expedition."I have found it, sir," said Conant, when he returned. "It lies in this direction:" he pointed to the north-east. "It isn't a quarter of a mile distant; but I had some difficulty in finding a good path.""Did you see anybody, or anything?""Nothing, sir."The whale-boat was then turned over; each man took off his pea-jacket, rolled it up, and put it on his shoulder. The boat was then lifted up, and placed on the shoulders of the sailors, the garment acting as a cushion to support the weight, without injury to the bearers. After a great many trials and difficulties incident to the darkness of the night and the character of the ground, the creek was reached, and the whale-boat launched. Unfortunately, the water was very shallow, and even the light draught of the boat was too great for rapid progress, though by various expedients this obstacle was overcome, and the expedition reached the mouth of the creek at about half past twelve o'clock in the morning.Somers was entirely dependent upon his memory and the compass for sailing directions; and the careful study he had made of the navigation of the bay enabled him to move with considerable confidence. The creek disembogued in a nearly landlocked bay, whose comparatively still waters were passed, and the boat began to be tossed by the waves of the broad bay.Heading his craft to the westward, he bade the men give way with a will. Encouraged by the manner in which all obstacles had thus far been overcome, they were ready and willing subjects. After pulling about three miles, the rougher sea and the depth of water which the bowman had continually reported, assured Somers that he must have reached the Middle Ground,where vessels bound out usually came to anchor when subjected to any delay. The Ben Lomond, if she was in the bay, could not be far distant; but the fog and darkness prevented him from seeing a ship's length ahead."Can you see anything, Mr. Longstone?" asked the young commander, who felt that he was now in the midst of the greatest obstacles to the success of his mission."I can't see anything," replied the boatswain; "but I think I hear something. There, sir! Two bells just struck in a vessel dead ahead.""I see her," said the bowman. "It's a rebel iron-clad!""She's an ugly customer. I don't want anything of her," said Somers, as he ordered the boat to go about, and headed her to the north-east."Boat ahead, sir!" reported the bowman."Speak out, man!" said the commander. "I am not afraid of being seen now. Where away is she?""On the port quarter, sir.""Starboard, coxswain," continued Somers.In a few moments the dark outline of the boat was seen in the water, and the coxswain was directed to steer towards her. Somers was fully committed now, and intended to carry himself through by impudence and audacity. He was in the midst of the rebel fleet to be used for the defence of the bay. He knew that thewaters around him were patrolled by picket boats, and he doubted not the craft before him was one of them. He could not find the Ben Lomond readily, and probably the officer of this boat would know her position."Boat ahoy!" he shouted."In the boat!" was the reply."Oars! Hold water!""What boat is that?" demanded the officer of the rebel party."My boat," replied Somers, rather irregularly."Who are you?""John Pillgrim, commander in the Confederate navy, appointed to the steamer Tallapoosa.""Ah," responded the officer. "You were expected before.""Couldn't come before," replied Somers, with perfect assurance. "Where is the Tallapoosa? I have been beating about here in the fog these two hours, trying to find her.""She lies about half a mile to the northward and eastward.""Thank you; I shall find her. Please report me to Admiral Buchanan, and say I shall run out immediately.""It's a good night for it. I beg your pardon, Captain Pillgrim; have you a pass?""A what?" demanded Somers, as if astonished at the request."A pass.""No; where should I get a pass, or what should I want one for?""Excuse me, but my orders are very strict. I cannot let a boat or vessel pass me without the proper papers.""What papers do you want?""Simply a pass.""I have no pass.""I shall be obliged to detain you, then.""No, you won't!" answered Somers, indignantly. "Here it is one o'clock in the morning. I ought to have been over the bar by this time.""I can't help it, Captain Pillgrim; my orders are imperative," pleaded the picket officer."Well, if you can't help it, I can. I may not have such another night as this for a month.""I shall not detain you half an hour. The Tallapoosa has steam up, and is only waiting for her commander and the balance of her crew.""How many men has she on board?" asked Somers, somewhat startled."About forty, besides the firemen.""I have the balance. It is all right.""Pardon me, if I persist. I must see your papers.""I have no pass; but I will show you my commission and my orders from the secretary of the navy.""Those will answer."The boat was laid alongside, and by the light of a lantern the officer glanced at Somers's commission and orders. He pronounced them all right, and the expedition was permitted to proceed.CHAPTER XXI.THE BEN LOMOND."That's a bold step, Mr. Somers," said Tom Longstone, as the whale-boat dashed on towards the intended prize."If it were less bold, it would be more dangerous," replied Somers, easily; for he entered so fully into the spirit of the affair, that he felt quite at home, and was hardly disturbed by a doubt of final success."Where is Mr. Pillgrim now?" asked the boatswain."I haven't the least idea; but I think he cannot be far off.""You left him at Fortress Monroe?""Yes; he had started for the South then, to take command, I suppose, of this vessel. The traitor's plan was to come down on the Chatauqua, and then bring out this vessel perhaps, on the pretence of capturing her. At any rate, he was going to use his official position in the navy to help him get the Tallapoosa out of the bay, and past the blockading squadron. If not, he would not have gone in her, and thus wasted so much of his valuable time. I wish I knew where he is now.""Perhaps it don't make much difference.""I am afraid it will make considerable difference. Suppose the traitor has been on board the Ben Lomond?""The what?""The Tallapoosa; they have changed her name. Keep a sharp lookout forward for the ship, bowman.""Ay, ay, sir! I can't see a thing yet.""Suppose he has been on board, Mr. Somers?" continued the boatswain."If he has, we may have to fight for the vessel.""Well, we can do that," replied Tom, as he involuntarily grasped his cutlass."He has forty men aboard of her now, besides the firemen and coal-heavers.""Our boys wouldn't mind forty of them.""I should not hesitate to attack her, but the noise would wake up the rebel iron clads and gunboats. We must get the vessel without fighting. I don't believe Pillgrim has been on board of her. If he had, that picket officer would have known that I am not the man. I'm not going to croak about the business, though. In my opinion it will be all right.""Of course the Tallapoosa is in charge of some one.""All her officers are on board, except the commander, we were told.""Some of them may know Mr. Pillgrim," suggestedthe boatswain, who had more fears for his young commander than the latter had for himself."Mr. Pillgrim has been in the North, and in England since the war began. I am of the opinion that those on board do not know him.""Suppose they do?""I shall put them under arrest if they refuse to obey my orders.""You are smart, Mr. Somers," said Tom, who chuckled over the adroitness of hisprotégé, even while he trembled for his safety and success."Steamer ahead, sir!" reported the bowman."Where does she lie?""On the starboard bow, sir!""Port a little," said Somers. "Now, my men, you will obey orders and keep silent. Answer no questions which may be put to you.""Ay, ay, sir," responded the crew, cheerfully; for though they seemed to be knocking at the door of a rebel prison, they had full confidence in their gallant young leader.Perhaps some of them "had their doubts," for four and twenty men are hardly ever gathered together, among whom there are not more or less who are disposed to grumble, and croak, and imagine possible disasters. Within the rebel lines, surrounded by Confederate vessels, and on the point of confronting superior numbers,it would not have been surprising if these men had been rather uncertain of the future. Whatever doubts or fears they had, they believed in Somers."My lads," continued the commander of the expedition, in a low tone, "you are rebel sailors for an hour or so. You will talk and act as such. Do you understand me?""Ay, ay, sir.""You will call me Captain Pillgrim."The men had listened to the conversation between their officer and the pickets, and they comprehended enough of the plan to enable them to act intelligently."Tom," said Somers, "there is nothing to prevent me from acting just as Mr. Pillgrim would do, if he were in my place.""That's so.""I could go to sea in this steamer, and plunder all the vessels I could overhaul.""So you could," replied the boatswain, who seemed to be amazed even at such a suggestion."I'm not sure that I am not carrying out the very plan which the traitor had in his mind. Perhaps he intended to do just what I have done, when he reached the blockading station.""Very likely.""Then I shall be Mr. Pillgrim, and carry out his purpose to the letter; only, when we get out of the bay I shall do rather differently from what he intended.""Boat ahoy!" shouted a man at the gangway of the Ben Lomond."On board the Tallapoosa!" replied Somers."Keep off," said the man, who seemed to be the officer of the deck. "Who are you?""Commander John Pillgrim, Confederate States navy, and captain of this ship.""Man the side, you lubbers!" added the boatswain, rather improving on the suggestion of Somers, given him at this moment."Captain Pillgrim?" said the officer of the deck."I said so. Is the ship ready to sail?""She is, sir; we have kept steam up all day, waiting for you.""Good! You are the right officers for me. I commend you," replied Somers, as he mounted the accommodation ladder.The pretended commander went up the side, closely followed by Longstone and a dozen of the sailors, and stepped down upon the deck."I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, I believe," added Somers, confronting the officer."Mr. Swayne, second lieutenant, sir," replied the officer. "Mr. Langdon is below, sir. I will send for him."Langdon! It was all up with Somers! Langdon knew him, had dined with him, had been intimate with him, and of course it would be useless to attempt to pass himself off as Mr. Pillgrim."Stop, sir!" said Somers, sternly, and with great presence of mind. "When did Mr. Langdon come on board?""Nearly a week ago, sir, when the rest of us did.""Indeed!" added Somers, savagely. "Mr. Langdon and myself have a little account to settle. He has disobeyed my orders, and I never will go to sea with such a man as executive officer. Mr. Swayne, for the present you will act as first lieutenant. I shall put Mr. Langdon under arrest at once.""Here he comes, sir.""Mr. Longstone, you will arrest the first lieutenant at once; put him in irons if he resists," said Somers, as he saw Langdon come up the companion-way.The stalwart boatswain confronted the astonished officer, as he approached the spot where Somers stood with the second lieutenant."By order of Captain Pillgrim, you are placed under arrest," said Tom, as, with a couple of seamen, he placed himself in front of the executive officer."Under arrest?""Yes, sir.""What for?""For disobedience of orders.""By whose command?" demanded the bewildered Langdon."Captain Pillgrim's, sir?""Impossible!""I beg your pardon, sir, but the captain told me to lose no time. He is going to sea at once.""Is Captain Pillgrim on board?""Of course he is. I just came off with him. He ordered me to arrest you.""Who are you, sir?""Blarney, sir!" exclaimed the boatswain, impatiently; "I can't stop—""Mr. Blarney, will you do me the favor to ask Captain Pillgrim for a moment's conversation with me. There must be some mistake, Mr. Blarney.""Can't stop, sir," answered Tom, who could not even pause long enough to laugh at the rebel's blunder. "My orders are to put you in irons if you resist. What do you say, Mr. Langdon?""Of course I do not resist; but there is some mistake.""No mistake, upon my honor. You may take my word for it, the business is all straight.""With what am I charged?""With disobedience of orders; and, Mr. Langdon, you'll excuse me, but there's a suspicion that you mean to go over to the Yankees.""I! To the Yankees!""Beg pardon, sir; but I can't stop to blarney any longer. My duty is plain; and I'll bet a month's pay you will see the captain sooner than you want to. Down below if you please, sir, to your state-room."Langdon obeyed in dogged silence. No doubt he much wondered who the rough fellow was that subjected him to this summary treatment. But the salutary hint about irons seemed to satisfy him, and when he had gone into his room, the door was closed, and a seaman placed before it. Longstone returned to the deck, touched his cap politely to Somers, and reported his orders executed."Mr. Swayne, you will call all hands," said the new commander of the Tallapoosa, when his dangerous first lieutenant had been secured.The boatswain of the steamer piped all hands, among whom the seamen from the Chatauqua mingled, and made themselves entirely at home."Mr. Swayne, will you do me the favor to read my commission to the crew," said Somers, handing him the document which he had carefully "tinkered" to suit the present occasion.Tom Longstone held the lantern, and the acting first lieutenant promptly complied with the request of the assumed commander. The document proclaimed that John Pillgrim was duly invested with authority as a commander in the Confederate navy, and was duly signed by "S. R. Mallory," though whether that distinguished rebel functionary had actually issued the paper or not, Somers was himself as ignorant as the others who listened to the reading.From his orders Somers then read enough to satisfyany who might be in doubt of his appointment to the Tallapoosa, which name he had substituted for that of Ben Nevis, as it read on the original document, given him by Langdon,aliasLieutenant Wynkoop."Are you satisfied, Mr. Swayne?" asked the commander, when he had finished the document."Entirely so, Captain Pillgrim," replied the first lieutenant.If he had not been satisfied, probably he would have been put under arrest as summarily as his superior had been a few moments before. With such an energetic captain, it was lucky for him he was satisfied! Perhaps Mr. Swayne was duly and properly impressed by the decided character of his commander, and deemed it prudent to raise no objections."Are you satisfied, gentlemen?" asked Somers, turning to the little group of officers.Fortunately for them, and perhaps for Somers too, they were also satisfied."My lads," continued the courteous but decisive captain, "you have listened to my commission, and you have listened to my orders."Somers paused, and the two first-class firemen from the Chatauqua started a demonstration of applause which was a complete success."My lads, I am going out to take a look at the Yankee fleet, to-night," he proceeded.Applause."I am a fighting man."More applause."That Yankee fleet will not stop me!" added Somers, with enthusiasm."That's so!" shouted one of the first-class firemen, who had a high appreciation of a good joke; and his remark was followed by a storm of applause."I repeat, my lads, the Yankee fleet will not stop me. I shall pay my respects to the Yankee admiral down there before the sun rises."Tumultuous applause."Now, my lads, I mean just what I say, and I say just what I mean. I command this ship, and every man on board obeys me. I am going through the Yankee fleet; will you go with me?""Ay, ay, sir!" roared the crew; and the voices of the Chatauqua's people were prominent in the reply."Will you go where I lead you?""Ay, ay, sir.""Very likely I shall send you upon the deck of the heaviest man-of-war in the Yankee squadron; but I will go with you.""Bully for the captain!" shouted the enthusiastic first-class fireman, which remark was indorsed and approved by the crew in general."What an awful fellow he is!—a regular fire-eater," whispered Mr. Swayne to Tom Longstone."He will do all he says he will," replied the boatswain."Will he board a Yankee frigate?""It's like him; but he is as prudent as he is brave.""Now, my lads, to your duty. We shall get under way at once, and I want every man to be true to God and his country," continued Somers."Three cheers for the captain!" shouted the fireman; and they were given with a will, as Somers walked aft.CHAPTER XXII.RUNNING THE BLOCKADE."Mr. Swayne, you will get the ship under way at once," said Somers, as he turned from the crew, and walked aft.The first lieutenant gave his orders, and the crew were soon walking round the capstan. The officers of the Tallapoosa had certainly used their time to advantage, for the crew was well disciplined, though the twenty-four petty officers and seamen from the Chatauqua were the spice of every movement."Where is the pilot, Mr. Swayne?" asked Somers."We have one on board, sir. He berths in the steerage. Shall I send for him, Captain Pillgrim?""If you please, do so."A master's mate was ordered to find the pilot."Is he up to his business?" continued Somers, to whom the pilotage of the vessel was of the last importance."Yes, sir; he is the best pilot in these waters. He has taken out a great many vessels on worse nights than this.""I could take the vessel out myself, so far as that is concerned," said Somers, nervously. "Does he know how to get through the obstructions?""O, yes, sir; he is perfectly familiar with everything about the bay.""And the channel is full of those infernal torpedoes.""It is, sir; but the pilot knows exactly where every one of them is located. We are in no danger from them; but they will blow the Yankee fleet sky high when they attempt to come up, as they probably will in a short time.""So I understand.""There will be fun here in a few days," added Mr. Swayne, rubbing his hands with delight, as he contemplated the destruction of the naval force gathered on the other side of the bar for the demonstration."The admiral down there is no joker," suggested Somers. "He won't feel his way, and then back out.""It would be better for him if he did. Admiral Buchanan is his equal in every respect. With his ram he will stave in every wooden ship in the fleet. His monitors will be blown up on the torpedoes.""I hope the affair will come out right," said Somers, rather indefinitely."It will; you may depend upon it, captain. Whoever is here when the thing is done will see the greatest smash-up that has happened since the war began.""I hope so," replied Somers. "But suppose Admiral Farragut should run by the forts.""He can't do it; the thing is utterly impossible. The torpedoes will sink his monitors—they are like lead, and if you shake them up a little, they will plump down on the bottom like a solid shot. His wooden vessels, even if he gets by the fort,—which can't be done,—would be all chawed up in half an hour by the ram Tennessee.""Anchor apeak, sir!" shouted Boatswain Longstone, who was doing duty as second lieutenant."Captain Column, the pilot, sir," said the first lieutenant, presenting a person who had been waiting a moment at his side."I am happy to see you, Captain Column;" and Somers took his hand."Thank you, sir," replied the pilot, who was evidently astonished at the degree of intimacy with which the commander condescended to treat him.Already the new captain had won a hard reputation abaft the mainmast. His stern and decisive measures with Langdon had been privately discussed among the officers, and it was the unanimous opinion that they had "caught a Tartar.""Well, Captain Column, have you got your weather eye open? This is a dark and foggy night.""Wide open, sir," replied the pilot, cheerfully; forSomers's cordial greeting had already produced a good effect upon him. "The darker and foggier the better, captain, for such a job as this. But there are so many Yankee ships outside, you can hardly get clear of them without a shot or two.""O, I don't mind that, if you can get us well over the torpedoes, and through the obstructions.""The obstructions are not of much account, and as for the torpedoes, I could put my hand on every one of them with my eyes shut.""Good; but I don't want you to put your hand or my ship on them.""Certainly not, captain," laughed the pilot. "I know how to keep clear of them.""That will suit me better. The ship is in your hands, Captain Column."A quartermaster from the Chatauqua was placed at the wheel, and when the anchor was heaved up, the Tallapoosa started on her course. Her wheels began to turn very slowly at first, and before she had gathered any headway, a boat touched at her side."Boat alongside, Captain Pillgrim," reported Mr. Swayne."What boat?""I don't know, sir.""I have no more time to waste; keep the ship moving."As the Tallapoosa gathered headway, a gentleman, clothed in naval uniform, stepped on the rail from the accommodation ladder. When he had reached this point, he stopped and looked down at the boat."Stop the steamer!" shouted he, in tones of authority; and to those who had heard it before there was no mistaking that voice.It was Pillgrim, without a doubt! Somers was vexed and disappointed at this accident, which threatened to overthrow all his plans; but he promptly decided to treat him as he had Langdon."See what he wants," said the commander to Swayne, "but don't let the ship be delayed a single instant.""Stop the steamer!" shouted Pillgrim, with a volley of oaths, because his first order had not been heeded. "Stop the steamer, or you will swamp my gig!""Your business, sir, if you please," said Swayne, stepping up to him."Don't you hear what I say?" replied Pillgrim, angrily. "Stop the steamer.""It can't be done, sir.""Can't be done!" gasped the traitor. "It can and shall be done.""Who are you, sir, that step upon this deck in that overbearing manner?" demanded the first lieutenant, roused by the tones and the manner of the new comer."I'll let you know who I am. Where is Langdon?""None of your business where he is," said Swayne, spunkily. "What do you want here?""You shall soon know what I want here!"Pillgrim was boiling over with passion at the rough reception given him by his officers on board his own ship. He was disposed to be even more stern and severe in his discipline than Somers had been."Who are you?" demanded Swayne."None of your business who I am, if you don't know; but I will soon bring you to your senses," roared Pillgrim, as he leaped down upon the deck, and with the step of a conqueror moved aft towards the wheel."Halt, sir!" said Mr. Swayne, placing himself in front of the stranger; for he was roused to a high pitch of anger and excitement by the unwarrantable conduct of the interloper. "You can go no farther on this deck, sir, till you explain who and what you are."Somers stood where he could see without being seen; for his presence on the deck of the Ben Lomond would have explained to Pillgrim the reason for his uncourteous reception. He quietly sent the two firemen and a couple of seamen to the assistance of Mr. Swayne."I am the captain of this ship," replied Pillgrim, who found it necessary to make this statement."The man is crazy," muttered Swayne."You understand me now," growled Pillgrim. "Stop the ship!""I think not, sir," replied Swayne, coolly; and he evidently regarded the claim of the stranger in the light of a joke, or as the whim of a maniac."You think not!" gasped Pillgrim, roused almost to madness by this cool disregard of his authority. "I'll have you in irons in three minutes, you scoundrel.""There, sir, I have heard enough of this!" said Swayne. "No man uses such language as that to me with impunity.""I tell you I am the commander of this steamer," added Pillgrim, who doubtless felt that the epithet he had used was unbecoming an officer and a gentleman."I don't care what you are. If your boat is alongside, you will go into it, in double quick time."Pillgrim began to storm again, shouted to the pilot to stop the steamer, and behaved in the most violent manner. Mr. Swayne's patience was totally exhausted, and he ordered the seamen who stood near him to arrest the interloper. A sharp struggle ensued, in which Pillgrim was overpowered, and was held fast by the stout tars of the Chatauqua.The first lieutenant then explained to the captain what had passed, and what he had done."Put him in irons!" said Somers, decidedly."Who is he, captain?""It matters not who he is. No man can behave in that manner on board of this ship."Swayne executed his orders to the letter, and the traitor, in spite of his struggles, in spite of his explanations and appeals, was put in irons on the quarter deck of his own ship. He was carried below, and put in a state-room, which was guarded by Conant, who had orders to shoot him if he did not keep quiet.In the mean time, the Ben Lomond,—for Somers, in strict accordance with the subsequent "ruling" of Mr. Seward, refused to recognize the vessel by any other than her original name, calling her the Tallapoosa only in the presence of the rebels,—the Ben Lomond, under the skilful guidance of the pilot, was slowly making her way out of the bay. A quartermaster had been stationed in the fore-chains when the steamer got under way, to take the soundings, which seemed to be the pilot's principal reliance in the difficult duty he had undertaken. Captain Column had placed himself on the port rail, just abaft the foremast, and the steering directions were sent aft through a line of officers to the helmsman."By the deep four," sang the quartermaster in the chains."Steady!" said the pilot. "Keep her sou'-west by west, half west.""Steady!" responded the quartermaster at the wheel. "Sou'-west by west, half west.""By the mark five!" said the leadsman, a little later."We are getting into deep water," said Somers."Yes, sir; we shall deepen till we get seven fathoms.""And a half five!" came from the chains. "By the deep six."The pilot went on the bridge, and taking the cord attached to the whistle of the engine, made a signal, consisting of several blasts, with irregular intervals between them. A heavy bell on shore sounded several times in answer to the signal."All right," said the pilot. "I know exactly where I am.""By the deep six!" called the leadsman.The pilot repeated the signal with the whistle, which was answered from the shore by the bell."Quarter less seven!""It is all going right, captain," said the pilot to Somers, who stood on the bridge with him."By the mark seven!""Hard a port!" shouted the pilot, as he gazed into the binnacle on the bridge."Hard a port!" repeated the line of officers, till the order was returned by the wheelman."Steady!" said the pilot."Mark under water seven!" cried the quartermaster in the chains."Keep her south by west," added the pilot."South by west!" returned the wheelman.
BRAVE OLD SALT.
The most extensive and careful preparations were in progress for the events which, a few days later, astonished the world even more than the splendid achievements of the fleet below New Orleans. The squadron off the mouth of Mobile Bay had been actively employed for several days in sending down top-masts, superfluous spars, and rigging. Chain cables had been extended over the sides of the ships where the machinery was exposed to injury from the shot and shell of the fort. Chains and sand bags were placed on the decks where plunging shot might disable the engines. Boats were removed from the starboard to the port sides, for the fleet was to go in with Fort Morgan on the right, and close aboard of them.
The preparations were advancing when Somers reported on board of the Chatauqua, and of course he at once experienced the inspiration of coming events. If there was any man in the navy whom he admired and reverenced, that man was Admiral Farragut. It is true,he was not singular in this respect, for every man in the fleet was equally devoted to him. The "Old Salamander," who seemed never to be happier than when in the midst of the hottest fire which the engines of modern warfare could produce, was the idol of both officers and seamen. He was an honest, just, and humane man, one who involuntarily won the respect of every person with whom he came into contact.
We were never more thoroughly impressed by the honesty, justice, and humanity of a man, than when we took the hand of this "Brave Old Salt." His expressive eye, and his gentle, but dignified bearing, spoke more truly and forcibly of what he was, than the most elaborate biography which the pen of genius could produce. It almost passes belief that men can stand up and work and fight as officers and seamen worked and fought between Forts Jackson and St. Philip, and at Mobile Bay; but we can think of no better inspiration than the leadership of such a man as Admiral Farragut.
He was born in Tennessee—a southern state; his home was in Virginia—a southern state—at the breaking out of the rebellion. With all the motives which actuated Lee and Johnston, Tatnall and Hollins, to induce him to abandon the old flag under which he had fought in early youth, and served through all his manhood, he remained true to his country in the hour of her severest trial. Neither bribes nor threats could movehim, and not for one instant did he falter in his devotion to the flag he had sworn to sustain against all foes. Glory, honor, and immortality in the hearts of his countrymen to the noble Admiral!
As a naval commander, he has no rival in the past or the present, in this or in any country. He has achieved, once, twice, thrice, what any board of naval officers that could have been convened from the boldest and most skilful naval heroes of the united nations, would have solemnly pronounced impossible. Chance might have given him the Lower Mississippi—it did not; but it could not have given him that and Mobile Bay, and the brilliant exploits up the Great River. Chance is capricious; it never metes out uniform success.
Admiral Farragut is not simply a brave and skilful seaman, for the stroke of genius shines out in all his battle plans, in all his preparations, and in all his movements, whether on the silent river, as his majestic ship leads in the van to the conflict, or under the most deadly and destructive fire that ever was rained down on a wooden hull. "Brave Old Salt" in the main rigging of the Hartford, as she breasted the storm of shot and shell from Fort Morgan, is a spectacle more sublime than can be presented in the annals of any other nation. The position he chose for himself on that momentous occasion, more truly indicates the key to his marvellous success than any other fact in connection with the battle. Hewas not there to expose himself needlessly to deadly peril; he was there to see and take advantage of the issues of the battle.
His position was a symbol of the intelligence and bravery which won the great battle. He saw with his own eyes—not with others; while his glorious personal devotion was a type for every other man, which was imitated from commodores down to powder-boys. We read of a general who could not remember where he was during one of the severest and most destructive fights of the war. If he had been in a position corresponding to that of the doughty old admiral, it would have been difficult for him to forget it. But personal bravery alone does not win the battle on the sea or the land. The admiral's victories are due even more to his genius—to his persevering industry in the elaboration of preparatory details.
"Brave Old Salt," as Somers always called him, was our young officer's beau-ideal of a naval commander. "Brave" he certainly was, and "Old Salt," to a sailor, means something more than a long experience at sea. It conveys to the nautical mind an idea of skill which no "lubber" can possess. It was bravery, seamanship, and those peculiar qualities which an "old salt" possesses, that made him great on the quarter deck, in command of a squadron.
Somers's admiration for the commander-in-chief of thefleet off Mobile Bay was of no recent origin. Since he had first known him as "Flag Officer Farragut" at Ship Island, before the grade of Rear and Vice Admiral had been created in our navy, he had reverenced him as a superior man, and looked up to him with an almost superstitious awe. He could hardly realize that they were both of the same earthly mould, with the like human hopes and aspirations. Though, for a young man of his age, Somers regarded his rank of master as very high, it did not permit him to abate one jot or tittle of the distance which lay between him and the admiral. He did not feel any better entitled to tread the same deck with the glorious old hero, as a master, than he did as an ordinary seaman.
Somers returned to active duty as soon as he had reported to the first lieutenant of the Chatauqua, and he had the deck in the first dog watch on the day of his arrival. During the afternoon watch he had had plenty of time to report the incidents of his cruise in the Ben Nevis. Mr. Hackleford had immediately communicated to the captain the facts concerning Pillgrim's letter, and the recreant lieutenant's papers had been carefully overhauled in search of anything which would shed a ray of light upon the statements of the strange letter.
The only document which looked at all hopeful was a note written in cipher, to which there was no key among the papers. If the communication had been in Chineseor Chaldaic, there might have been a chance of unravelling it; as it was, the note was written in arbitrary characters, which were as cabalistic and unintelligible as the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Somers was annoyed and discomfited, for he had confidently reckoned upon finding some letter which contained a hint to guide him. There was nothing but this note in cipher.
To add to his chagrin, Mr. Hackleford was utterly sceptical in regard to Pillgrim's letter—did not believe the first word of it—called it "gas," and declared that it would be stupid and childish to pay the least attention to the document. Captain Cascabel fully concurred with him in this opinion, and both of them laughed at Somers for bestowing a second thought upon it.
"Nonsense! Mr. Somers!" exclaimed the first lieutenant. "There isn't a single scintillation of truth in the story. If there were even a glimmering of reality in the thing, I would look into it."
"But Mr. Pillgrim told me some truth in regard to the Ben Nevis," argued Somers.
"That is the best reason in the world for believing he has not done so in this instance," said Mr. Hackleford.
"I suppose I must give up the idea, then."
"You must, indeed. If you don't, I am afraid your reputation for common sense and good judgment will suffer."
"Will you allow me to take this letter in cipher, and keep it till to-morrow?" asked Somers.
"Certainly."
Somers took the letter, and put it into his pocket until he had an opportunity to study its mystic characters. He was mortified by the rebuff he had received, but his faith, though somewhat shaken, was not destroyed. He was officer of the deck from four till six. Just before he was relieved, he ordered the side to be manned to receive the captain, who was just returning from a visit to the flag-ship.
As he touched his cap to Captain Cascabel, he noticed a smile on his commander's face, which seemed to relate to him, and he blushed beneath the pleasant, but expressive glance bestowed upon him.
"Mr. Somers," said the captain.
The officer of the deck stepped forward, and saluted the commander again.
"You are invited to dine with Admiral Farragut to-morrow afternoon."
"I, sir!" exclaimed Somers, completely overwhelmed by this remarkable declaration.
"Rear Admiral Farragut presents his compliments to Mr. Somers, and would be happy to see him at dinner to-morrow, on board the Hartford."
The captain passed on to the companion-way, leading to his cabin, leaving Somers as bewildered as though he had been invited to dine with Queen Victoria, Louis Napoleon, and the Emperor of Russia; indeed, he regarded it as a much greater honor to dine with "Brave OldSalt," than to put his feet under the mahogany of the mightiest crowned head of the world. It was evident that somebody had been talking to the admiral about him; the captain and the first lieutenant of the Chatauqua certainly felt kindly enough towards him to do so.
To dine with Admiral Farragut! That was glory enough for a lifetime; or at least to be deemed worthy of such a distinction. Our friend Somers was no snob; he "looked up" to great people, especially to those who were really great. He pretended to no familiarity with his superiors, though some of the officers were dying with envy at the notice taken of him by the captain and first lieutenant of the ship. He did not assume to be familiar with men who had won a deathless fame in defending their country's cause. Perhaps there was not an officer in the fleet who would so highly appreciate such a compliment as that of which he was now the happy recipient.
When he was relieved from the deck, and went down into the ward-room, the news had gone before him, and the "idlers" there congratulated him upon his rising fame. But Somers broke away from them as soon as he could decently do so, and shut himself up in his state-room. He was actually dizzy at the idea of sitting down at the table with "Brave Old Salt" in the cabin of the Hartford; and though he took the cabalistic note of Mr. Pillgrim from his pocket, at least half an hour was wasted before he could apply his mind undividedly to thedifficult problem before him. Finally, the hope of making a grand revelation to the admiral on the morrow fired his zeal to such a pitch that the work looked like play to him.
Somers opened the mysterious document and spread it out on the desk, at which he seated himself. It looked dark and hopeless, with its dots and dashes, its horizontals and perpendiculars, its curves and crosses. We present the note in full, that our readers may be able to appreciate the difficulty of the task he had undertaken.
If Somers had been a student of the occult sciences, he might have been more hopeful. An hour's hard study brought a gleam of light. He thought the note must be signed by Langdon. There were seven letters in the signature. This was his first ray of hope. He then placed all the letters of the alphabet in a column, and against each made the character that represented it in the cipher. Six letters were thus interpreted.
The next step was to place each of the letters thus discovered over its sign in the note. The second and third words of the epistle then stood, the eights being for undiscovered letters, as follows: 88nxlo8ond.
"Ben Lomond!" exclaimed Somers, as he gave a smart rap on the desk to indicate his joy at the discovery.
Three more letters were gained, and the oblique cross was only a mark to divide the words. The three letters before Ben Lomond must be, t h e. The solution began to be easy, though it required a long time to reach it. At midnight, when he was called to take the mid watch, he had it written out as follows:—
Washington, Twentieth of June.The Ben Lomond is at Mobile, fitting out. Mallory gives you the command. The forts will be attacked by the first of August. You must get her out before that time.Langdon.
Washington, Twentieth of June.
The Ben Lomond is at Mobile, fitting out. Mallory gives you the command. The forts will be attacked by the first of August. You must get her out before that time.
Langdon.
THE BOAT EXPEDITION.
At general quarters, on the following day, Somers looked somewhat care-worn. It was midnight when he had worked out the solution of the cipher, and at this hour he had been called to take the mid watch. But there was no happier or more exultant man in the fleet. His conquest over the cabalistic letter had confirmed his theory. The Ben Lomond was not a myth, and she was at Mobile. Pillgrim had expressed a desire to see Somers again, and there was a fair prospect that he might yet be able to do so.
The important event of this day was the dinner with "Brave Old Salt." But the letter and the dinner seemed to be inseparably connected. Somers had given the translation to the first lieutenant, who, to the chagrin and mortification of the persevering student, did not appear to attach much importance to the letter.
"If the Tallapoosa, or Ben Lomond, is in the bay, we shall soon have her," said Mr. Hackleford, "for we are going to make the attack on the forts within a few days."
"The attack may fail, and thus afford an opportunity for the cruiser to come out," suggested Somers.
"Fail?"
The third lieutenant of the Chatauqua stood abashed before the look of his superior. He did not believe that any attack made by Admiral Farragut could fail, but it was possible for the Confederate steamer to run the blockade, as hundreds had done before her, especially as she could steam sixteen knots.
"I don't think the attack will fail, sir; but even a victory might afford the Ben Lomond a chance to run out."
"I don't think there is much chance; but Captain Cascabel has your solution of the letter under consideration. Perhaps the admiral may have something to say about it."
Somers was not satisfied with the reception given to his revelation. He had already formed a plan for ascertaining where the Ben Lomond was, but the cool manner in which his communication was received prevented him from even mentioning it.
In the afternoon, the captain's gig came up to the accommodation ladder, and the commander, attended by Somers, seated himself in the stern-sheets. Captain Cascabel was received with due honors on the quarter deck of the Hartford, where the gallant admiral was walking at the time.
When his superior had been welcomed with dignified cordiality, Captain Cascabel introduced Somers. Theadmiral bowed, smiled pleasantly, and did not look patronizingly upon the young officer, as he might have been pardoned for doing. As he stood there on the quarter deck of the flag-ship, he was full of genuine dignity and true manliness—a noble representative of the American naval commander. He was of medium stature, well formed, and of elegant proportions. He seemed to be made of nerves and muscles, and when he moved there was an elastic spring to his frame, which impressed the observer with the idea of energy and vigor. He did not appear to stand on the deck, but to be poised independently in the air, resting on the planks beneath him more because it was the fashion to do so, than because he had any need of such support.
Somers removed his cap, made his best bow, and blushed like a summer rose. He was deeply impressed by the glance of the admiral, and the atmosphere around him seemed to be full of the man at whom he gazed in reverent admiration.
"Mr. Somers, I am happy to see you," said the admiral, in a tone so gentle and affable that it seemed to remove the "curse" of greatness far from him. "I have heard of you before, and I doubt not we shall be able to make you very useful to your country."
"Thank you, sir," replied Somers, not daring to say any more, and with the feeling of his childhood, that "boys ought to be seen, not heard."
The admiral, with this judicious commendation, turned to Captain Cascabel, and opened conversation with him, evidently determined not to spoil the young man by taking too much notice of him. Somers was soon at home with the officers of the Hartford, and behaved himself with becoming modesty and discretion. He dined with the admiral, several other officers of distinction being present. The conversation at the table, singularly enough, it may appear to our readers, did not relate to the war, or even to the navy. These topics appeared to be carefully excluded, though the reserve on this occasion was probably accidental.
Somers found sufficient pleasure in looking at and listening to the admiral, and the other distinguished officers, though he was not ignored, being kindly encouraged, by an occasional question, to use his voice. But he was not forward, and his very nature prevented him from indulging in any of that impudent familiarity which is so offensive to elderly men, especially if they occupy high positions.
After dinner, a matter of business came up, and it soon appeared that Captain Cascabel had given the admiral all the particulars relating to the Ben Lomond, including the letter in cipher, which Somers had interpreted. The conversation took place in private, with only the three persons present who were most intimately concerned. The letter was exhibited, and its solution explained.
"Mr. Somers, what is your plan? I am informed that you have one," said the admiral.
"I have one, sir, but I hardly hope it will merit your approbation," replied the third lieutenant of the Chatauqua.
"We will hear it, if you please. By the way, our picket boats report that a steamer came down the bay this morning, and moored inside the Middle Ground. It may be the one mentioned in your letter—the Tallapoosa."
"Probably it is, sir. She can now only be waiting the arrival of Lieutenant Pillgrim, who is to command her."
"We must capture that man. State your plan, Mr. Somers."
The young officer, with no little trepidation, related the particulars of the method he had considered for the capture of the Ben Lomond.
"Very daring and impudent, Mr. Somers," said the admiral, as he glanced with a meaning smile at Captain Cascabel.
"Mr. Somers'sforteis daring and impudence. But his scheme, besides being based on mere theory, is absolutely fool-hardy," added the captain, throwing a whole bucket of cold water on the young officer's prospects.
"I do not wholly agree with you, captain. By the report of the picket boats, there is certainly a sea-goingsteamer in the bay. That, in a measure, confirms Mr. Somers's theory. Now, if the vessel is there, the young man may bring her out if he has the ability to do so."
"What force do you require, Mr. Somers?"
"The first cutter of the Chatauqua, and twenty-four men."
"You shall have them, Mr. Somers," said the admiral. "Instead of the first cutter, I suggest a whale-boat, which will not be much more than half as heavy."
"That would be better, sir," replied Somers, hardly able to conceal the joy and exultation he felt at the prospect of being permitted to carry out his plan.
"Captain, you will permit Mr. Somers to pick his men, and afford him every facility for the execution of his purpose."
"I will, with pleasure, sir."
"When do you wish to begin, Mr. Somers?" asked the admiral.
"To-night, sir."
"Very well. The monitors haven't arrived, captain, and it may be a fortnight before we make the attack on the forts. The steamer may run out in a fog or storm before that time, and I think we do well to prevent another Tuscaloosa from preying on the commerce of the country."
"Undoubtedly, sir, if we can."
"Mr. Somers's scheme may possibly succeed, though Ido not think his chances of cutting out the steamer are very encouraging."
"I am afraid not, admiral," answered Captain Cascabel, incredulously.
"Mr. Somers, your reputation would be seriously damaged by the failure of your enterprise. Your officers would be more unwilling to trust you than they are now if you should meet with a disaster."
"I could not complain. I do not intend to meet with any disaster. If I do nothing better, I shall bring my men back with me."
The admiral laughed, and seemed to be pleased with this confidence, while Captain Cascabel shook his head.
"Mr. Somers, the risk is very great. You and your men may be prisoners in Fort Morgan within twenty-four hours. A failure would damage, if not ruin you. Are you still ready to undertake the work?" asked the admiral.
"I am, sir."
"Remember that everything depends upon yourself. My best wishes for your success go with you."
Somers needed no better inspiration, and his frame seemed to jerk and spring like that of Brave Old Salt, when he realized that he was actually to undertake his cherished purpose.
The gig pulled back to the Chatauqua, and Somers immediately commenced his preparations. The cordialindorsement of the admiral was enough to silence all opposition, and to "put a stopper on the jaw-tackle of all croakers." He was earnestly seconded by the captain and his officers. In a short time a light whale-boat was towed up, and made fast to the boom.
Somers's first duty was to select his crew. He was to engage in a desperate enterprise, and everything must depend upon the skill and bravery, as well as the silence and discretion, of his force. The first person selected was the boatswain, Tom Longstone, who, being better acquainted with the qualities of the seamen, was intrusted with the selection of the boat's crew. Just as soon as it was discovered that some daring enterprise was to be undertaken by the third lieutenant, he was beset by eager applicants for a place in the boat. Acting ensigns, masters' mates, midshipmen, indeed, all the officers below Somers in rank, begged to be appointed.
The young commander of the expedition was prudent and cautious, and he accepted the services of none. Tom Longstone was the only officer to accompany him. The boatswain would obey his orders without asking any questions, or bothering him with any advice.
"There, Mr. Somers, I have picked out the twenty-four best men in the ship—men that will work, fight, and hold their tongues," said Boatswain Longstone, when he had executed the important trust committed to him.
"Thank you, boatswain. What do you think of the weather?"
"It's going to be a nasty night."
"So much the better. Let every man take his pea-jacket; apply to the armorer for revolvers and cutlasses for each of them."
"A howitzer, Mr. Somers?"
"No; we must go as light as possible," replied Somers, as he proceeded to instruct the boatswain in regard to certain "slings" and other rigging that would be wanted.
Boatswain Longstone did not ask a single question about the nature or object of the enterprise; and with the exception of the admiral, and the captain and first lieutenant of the Chatauqua, not a man in the fleet besides Somers knew "what was up." It was necessary to conduct the enterprise with the utmost caution and secrecy.
The boatswain's predictions in regard to the weather proved to be entirely correct, for at eight bells, when the first watch was set, it was dark, foggy, and rainy. Somers had calculated upon this weather, when he had so promptly chosen the time for his venture. It was just the night for a difficult and dangerous enterprise, and the fog and the darkness were its best friends. While the boatswain was carrying out the orders given him, Somers had been engaged at the desk in his state-room, preparingfor use certain papers, including his commander's commission in the Confederate navy, and his letter of instructions, intended for the Ben Nevis, or Louisiana. With his knife he scratched, and with his pen he wrote, until the documents suited his present purpose; and they were placed in his pocket.
At two bells—nine o'clock in the evening—while the rain poured down in torrents, Somers embarked with his force, consisting of Tom Longstone and twenty-four as athletic and resolute fellows as ever pulled an oar or handled a cutlass. The whale-boat was crowded, though it was of the largest size, being thirty feet in length. The oars were carefully muffled, and the seamen were so disposed that the oarsmen could be relieved without noise.
Wrapping his overcoat closely around him, Somers seated himself in the stern-sheets of the whale-boat, with the boatswain at his side. Though profoundly impressed by the magnitude and danger of the work in which he was engaged, he could not help thinking of the changes which had checkered his lot, since, two years before, he had sat in the first cutter of the Harrisburg, as an ordinary seaman. Now he was a master, and in command of the expedition. Tom Longstone had been with him then; he was with him now. In low tones, they talked of that eventful night, and of the changes which had occurred since that time.
Somers was grateful for his advancement, and thanked God that he had been enabled to perform his duty so as to merit the favor of his superiors. And in the depths of his heart he asked God to bless his present exertions for the good of his country. He leaned on the Good Father even in this exciting hour, and his religious faith was the strength of his arm.
THE PICKET BOAT.
Through the deep darkness and the dense fog the boat made its way. There was not an object to be seen, on ship or shore, to guide its course; and in front of Somers there was a patent binnacle, whose lights were reflected on the compass, but did not even soften the gloom without, into which he continued to gaze with the most anxious solicitude. He had carefully estimated the currents the whale-boat would encounter, and calculated the force of the wind, so as to determine her lee-way with the nicest practicable accuracy.
The young commander of the expedition hoped to strike a certain point of the land to the eastward of the fort on Mobile Point, distant five and a half miles from the ship. Half a mile east or west of the desired point might involve him in serious if not fatal difficulties, and everything depended upon the accuracy of his calculations. His early experience as a boatman at Pinchbrook Harbor was of incalculable service to him, since nothingcan supply the place of actual observation in the making of such nice estimates as were required for success in the present instance.
The rain poured down in torrents, and the sea was rough and uneasy; but Somers, never for an instant turned aside from the grand object before him by the discomforts of his situation, watched his compass and closely observed every motion of the whale-boat. He was fired with zeal, but he was not excited, for he knew how much depended upon cool judgment and careful execution of the details of his work.
"Breakers ahead!" said the bowman, in a low tone; and the words were passed aft to the officer.
Breakers were to be expected; and of course Somers was not appalled by the announcement. The boat dashed on till she reached the broken water; but the surf on the shore, thrown up by the storm, was absolutely fearful. A stunning roar broke upon the ears of the young officer as the frail craft approached the foaming billows that shattered themselves on the beach.
"That's a heavy surf, Mr. Somers," said Tom Longstone.
"So much the better," replied the officer, cheerfully.
"This whale-boat will not be much better than a cockle-shell in that surf."
"She will go through it, if she is well handled."
"Ay, ay, sir; of course she will."
"The rebels will not expect a boat to land in such a surf and on such a night. We shall not be expected," replied Somers, in a loud tone, for whispers and soft speech could not be heard above the roar of the billows.
The commander of the expedition stood up in the stern-sheets, and attempted to penetrate the gloom and fog in the direction of the beach; but neither sight nor sound of the shore could be obtained. To plunge through that boiling surf upon a rebel battery or an artillery company, would be a sad conclusion of the night's work; but even this must be risked, for it was not possible to obtain a single item of information in regard to the surroundings on shore.
"Oars!" shouted Somers, when he had completed his unsatisfactory survey shoreward, and there was not the slightest danger of his order being heard by an enemy beyond the thundering roll of the sea. "Hold water!"
The onward progress of the boat was stopped.
"Back the starboard, pull the port oars!" added the officer, who had now taken the management of the boat out of the hands of the coxswain. "Oars!" he continued, when the boat was turned so as to head directly from the shore.
"Now, my lads, pull steady, and mind the orders promptly," said the confident young officer. "There's a heavy surf; but if you pull strong, and mind quick, we shall be through it in a moment."
"Ay, ay, sir!" responded the blue-jackets.
"Stern, all!" continued Somers, when he had carefully observed the sweep of the last wave.
The oarsmen backed water, and the boat moved towards the shore, stern foremost. In a moment she was lifted up by a great billow and swept furiously towards the beach.
"Steady!" said Somers, gazing forward over the heads of the men, watching the approach of the next foam-crested wave.
The men were entirely cool, and their iron muscles held the boat under perfect control. A huge roller was coming in, fiercely, rapidly, at double or triple the speed of the whale-boat, and the first great peril of the surf was at hand.
The danger was, as our inexperienced readers may not understand, that the stern of the boat, suddenly struck by the swift-flying wave, would be lifted high in air, and the bow forced under; or that the boat would broach to, and be rolled over in the sea. In either case the boat would be swamped, and eventually be stove on the beach. Somers saw one of these rushing billows coming down with frightful velocity upon the whale-boat.
"Oars!" cried he; and the men ceased backing her.
"Give way!" he added, with an energy which was at once communicated to the muscles of the men; andthey pulled steadily, as a well-disciplined crew always does, but with a firmness and strength which caused the boat to dart forward towards the savage roller.
She met the billow; her bow rose upon it; she passed over without being ingulfed by it.
"Oars! Hold water! Stern, all!" continued the young officer; and again the whale-boat moved towards the shore.
The manœuvre described was repeated several times, until the boat had passed through the surf, and struck heavily on the sandy beach. The men in the bow were then ordered to jump into the water; and as the forward part was thus lightened, the successive rollers bore the boat farther and farther upon the beach, until the whole crew were landed. The first step of the expedition had been safely accomplished.
Somers ordered the men to haul up the boat high and dry upon the beach. There was not a person to be seen, or a sound to be heard, which indicated the presence of an enemy. The young officer had now to prove the correctness of his calculations, for as yet he knew not upon what portion of the point he had landed. A careful survey of the ground was therefore immediately to be made. It was necessary to have assistance in this; and Somers selected two first-class firemen, very intelligent men, machinists and engineers, who were in training for situations in government ships. They had been brought towork the engine of the Ben Lomond, if, fortunately, she were captured.
Tom Longstone was left in charge of the boat and crew, and the two firemen followed the commander of the expedition, who moved towards the north. When he had proceeded a short distance, he explained to his companions his object.
"About an eighth of a mile from the beach," said he, "there is a creek, which widens into a little bay. I wish to find this creek; it will lead us into Mobile Bay. Conant, you will go east, and, Wade, you will go west. You must be very careful, or you will lose your way. You will not go more than half a mile, as nearly as you can judge, in either direction. If you find it, return to the beach, and take notice of the best way to reach it."
The firemen parted, and Somers moved forward himself. He did not find the creek in the direction he had chosen, and returned to the beach, after a search of about an hour. Wade was there before him; but Conant had not yet made his appearance, though he did not long delay the expedition.
"I have found it, sir," said Conant, when he returned. "It lies in this direction:" he pointed to the north-east. "It isn't a quarter of a mile distant; but I had some difficulty in finding a good path."
"Did you see anybody, or anything?"
"Nothing, sir."
The whale-boat was then turned over; each man took off his pea-jacket, rolled it up, and put it on his shoulder. The boat was then lifted up, and placed on the shoulders of the sailors, the garment acting as a cushion to support the weight, without injury to the bearers. After a great many trials and difficulties incident to the darkness of the night and the character of the ground, the creek was reached, and the whale-boat launched. Unfortunately, the water was very shallow, and even the light draught of the boat was too great for rapid progress, though by various expedients this obstacle was overcome, and the expedition reached the mouth of the creek at about half past twelve o'clock in the morning.
Somers was entirely dependent upon his memory and the compass for sailing directions; and the careful study he had made of the navigation of the bay enabled him to move with considerable confidence. The creek disembogued in a nearly landlocked bay, whose comparatively still waters were passed, and the boat began to be tossed by the waves of the broad bay.
Heading his craft to the westward, he bade the men give way with a will. Encouraged by the manner in which all obstacles had thus far been overcome, they were ready and willing subjects. After pulling about three miles, the rougher sea and the depth of water which the bowman had continually reported, assured Somers that he must have reached the Middle Ground,where vessels bound out usually came to anchor when subjected to any delay. The Ben Lomond, if she was in the bay, could not be far distant; but the fog and darkness prevented him from seeing a ship's length ahead.
"Can you see anything, Mr. Longstone?" asked the young commander, who felt that he was now in the midst of the greatest obstacles to the success of his mission.
"I can't see anything," replied the boatswain; "but I think I hear something. There, sir! Two bells just struck in a vessel dead ahead."
"I see her," said the bowman. "It's a rebel iron-clad!"
"She's an ugly customer. I don't want anything of her," said Somers, as he ordered the boat to go about, and headed her to the north-east.
"Boat ahead, sir!" reported the bowman.
"Speak out, man!" said the commander. "I am not afraid of being seen now. Where away is she?"
"On the port quarter, sir."
"Starboard, coxswain," continued Somers.
In a few moments the dark outline of the boat was seen in the water, and the coxswain was directed to steer towards her. Somers was fully committed now, and intended to carry himself through by impudence and audacity. He was in the midst of the rebel fleet to be used for the defence of the bay. He knew that thewaters around him were patrolled by picket boats, and he doubted not the craft before him was one of them. He could not find the Ben Lomond readily, and probably the officer of this boat would know her position.
"Boat ahoy!" he shouted.
"In the boat!" was the reply.
"Oars! Hold water!"
"What boat is that?" demanded the officer of the rebel party.
"My boat," replied Somers, rather irregularly.
"Who are you?"
"John Pillgrim, commander in the Confederate navy, appointed to the steamer Tallapoosa."
"Ah," responded the officer. "You were expected before."
"Couldn't come before," replied Somers, with perfect assurance. "Where is the Tallapoosa? I have been beating about here in the fog these two hours, trying to find her."
"She lies about half a mile to the northward and eastward."
"Thank you; I shall find her. Please report me to Admiral Buchanan, and say I shall run out immediately."
"It's a good night for it. I beg your pardon, Captain Pillgrim; have you a pass?"
"A what?" demanded Somers, as if astonished at the request.
"A pass."
"No; where should I get a pass, or what should I want one for?"
"Excuse me, but my orders are very strict. I cannot let a boat or vessel pass me without the proper papers."
"What papers do you want?"
"Simply a pass."
"I have no pass."
"I shall be obliged to detain you, then."
"No, you won't!" answered Somers, indignantly. "Here it is one o'clock in the morning. I ought to have been over the bar by this time."
"I can't help it, Captain Pillgrim; my orders are imperative," pleaded the picket officer.
"Well, if you can't help it, I can. I may not have such another night as this for a month."
"I shall not detain you half an hour. The Tallapoosa has steam up, and is only waiting for her commander and the balance of her crew."
"How many men has she on board?" asked Somers, somewhat startled.
"About forty, besides the firemen."
"I have the balance. It is all right."
"Pardon me, if I persist. I must see your papers."
"I have no pass; but I will show you my commission and my orders from the secretary of the navy."
"Those will answer."
The boat was laid alongside, and by the light of a lantern the officer glanced at Somers's commission and orders. He pronounced them all right, and the expedition was permitted to proceed.
THE BEN LOMOND.
"That's a bold step, Mr. Somers," said Tom Longstone, as the whale-boat dashed on towards the intended prize.
"If it were less bold, it would be more dangerous," replied Somers, easily; for he entered so fully into the spirit of the affair, that he felt quite at home, and was hardly disturbed by a doubt of final success.
"Where is Mr. Pillgrim now?" asked the boatswain.
"I haven't the least idea; but I think he cannot be far off."
"You left him at Fortress Monroe?"
"Yes; he had started for the South then, to take command, I suppose, of this vessel. The traitor's plan was to come down on the Chatauqua, and then bring out this vessel perhaps, on the pretence of capturing her. At any rate, he was going to use his official position in the navy to help him get the Tallapoosa out of the bay, and past the blockading squadron. If not, he would not have gone in her, and thus wasted so much of his valuable time. I wish I knew where he is now."
"Perhaps it don't make much difference."
"I am afraid it will make considerable difference. Suppose the traitor has been on board the Ben Lomond?"
"The what?"
"The Tallapoosa; they have changed her name. Keep a sharp lookout forward for the ship, bowman."
"Ay, ay, sir! I can't see a thing yet."
"Suppose he has been on board, Mr. Somers?" continued the boatswain.
"If he has, we may have to fight for the vessel."
"Well, we can do that," replied Tom, as he involuntarily grasped his cutlass.
"He has forty men aboard of her now, besides the firemen and coal-heavers."
"Our boys wouldn't mind forty of them."
"I should not hesitate to attack her, but the noise would wake up the rebel iron clads and gunboats. We must get the vessel without fighting. I don't believe Pillgrim has been on board of her. If he had, that picket officer would have known that I am not the man. I'm not going to croak about the business, though. In my opinion it will be all right."
"Of course the Tallapoosa is in charge of some one."
"All her officers are on board, except the commander, we were told."
"Some of them may know Mr. Pillgrim," suggestedthe boatswain, who had more fears for his young commander than the latter had for himself.
"Mr. Pillgrim has been in the North, and in England since the war began. I am of the opinion that those on board do not know him."
"Suppose they do?"
"I shall put them under arrest if they refuse to obey my orders."
"You are smart, Mr. Somers," said Tom, who chuckled over the adroitness of hisprotégé, even while he trembled for his safety and success.
"Steamer ahead, sir!" reported the bowman.
"Where does she lie?"
"On the starboard bow, sir!"
"Port a little," said Somers. "Now, my men, you will obey orders and keep silent. Answer no questions which may be put to you."
"Ay, ay, sir," responded the crew, cheerfully; for though they seemed to be knocking at the door of a rebel prison, they had full confidence in their gallant young leader.
Perhaps some of them "had their doubts," for four and twenty men are hardly ever gathered together, among whom there are not more or less who are disposed to grumble, and croak, and imagine possible disasters. Within the rebel lines, surrounded by Confederate vessels, and on the point of confronting superior numbers,it would not have been surprising if these men had been rather uncertain of the future. Whatever doubts or fears they had, they believed in Somers.
"My lads," continued the commander of the expedition, in a low tone, "you are rebel sailors for an hour or so. You will talk and act as such. Do you understand me?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"You will call me Captain Pillgrim."
The men had listened to the conversation between their officer and the pickets, and they comprehended enough of the plan to enable them to act intelligently.
"Tom," said Somers, "there is nothing to prevent me from acting just as Mr. Pillgrim would do, if he were in my place."
"That's so."
"I could go to sea in this steamer, and plunder all the vessels I could overhaul."
"So you could," replied the boatswain, who seemed to be amazed even at such a suggestion.
"I'm not sure that I am not carrying out the very plan which the traitor had in his mind. Perhaps he intended to do just what I have done, when he reached the blockading station."
"Very likely."
"Then I shall be Mr. Pillgrim, and carry out his purpose to the letter; only, when we get out of the bay I shall do rather differently from what he intended."
"Boat ahoy!" shouted a man at the gangway of the Ben Lomond.
"On board the Tallapoosa!" replied Somers.
"Keep off," said the man, who seemed to be the officer of the deck. "Who are you?"
"Commander John Pillgrim, Confederate States navy, and captain of this ship."
"Man the side, you lubbers!" added the boatswain, rather improving on the suggestion of Somers, given him at this moment.
"Captain Pillgrim?" said the officer of the deck.
"I said so. Is the ship ready to sail?"
"She is, sir; we have kept steam up all day, waiting for you."
"Good! You are the right officers for me. I commend you," replied Somers, as he mounted the accommodation ladder.
The pretended commander went up the side, closely followed by Longstone and a dozen of the sailors, and stepped down upon the deck.
"I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance, I believe," added Somers, confronting the officer.
"Mr. Swayne, second lieutenant, sir," replied the officer. "Mr. Langdon is below, sir. I will send for him."
Langdon! It was all up with Somers! Langdon knew him, had dined with him, had been intimate with him, and of course it would be useless to attempt to pass himself off as Mr. Pillgrim.
"Stop, sir!" said Somers, sternly, and with great presence of mind. "When did Mr. Langdon come on board?"
"Nearly a week ago, sir, when the rest of us did."
"Indeed!" added Somers, savagely. "Mr. Langdon and myself have a little account to settle. He has disobeyed my orders, and I never will go to sea with such a man as executive officer. Mr. Swayne, for the present you will act as first lieutenant. I shall put Mr. Langdon under arrest at once."
"Here he comes, sir."
"Mr. Longstone, you will arrest the first lieutenant at once; put him in irons if he resists," said Somers, as he saw Langdon come up the companion-way.
The stalwart boatswain confronted the astonished officer, as he approached the spot where Somers stood with the second lieutenant.
"By order of Captain Pillgrim, you are placed under arrest," said Tom, as, with a couple of seamen, he placed himself in front of the executive officer.
"Under arrest?"
"Yes, sir."
"What for?"
"For disobedience of orders."
"By whose command?" demanded the bewildered Langdon.
"Captain Pillgrim's, sir?"
"Impossible!"
"I beg your pardon, sir, but the captain told me to lose no time. He is going to sea at once."
"Is Captain Pillgrim on board?"
"Of course he is. I just came off with him. He ordered me to arrest you."
"Who are you, sir?"
"Blarney, sir!" exclaimed the boatswain, impatiently; "I can't stop—"
"Mr. Blarney, will you do me the favor to ask Captain Pillgrim for a moment's conversation with me. There must be some mistake, Mr. Blarney."
"Can't stop, sir," answered Tom, who could not even pause long enough to laugh at the rebel's blunder. "My orders are to put you in irons if you resist. What do you say, Mr. Langdon?"
"Of course I do not resist; but there is some mistake."
"No mistake, upon my honor. You may take my word for it, the business is all straight."
"With what am I charged?"
"With disobedience of orders; and, Mr. Langdon, you'll excuse me, but there's a suspicion that you mean to go over to the Yankees."
"I! To the Yankees!"
"Beg pardon, sir; but I can't stop to blarney any longer. My duty is plain; and I'll bet a month's pay you will see the captain sooner than you want to. Down below if you please, sir, to your state-room."
Langdon obeyed in dogged silence. No doubt he much wondered who the rough fellow was that subjected him to this summary treatment. But the salutary hint about irons seemed to satisfy him, and when he had gone into his room, the door was closed, and a seaman placed before it. Longstone returned to the deck, touched his cap politely to Somers, and reported his orders executed.
"Mr. Swayne, you will call all hands," said the new commander of the Tallapoosa, when his dangerous first lieutenant had been secured.
The boatswain of the steamer piped all hands, among whom the seamen from the Chatauqua mingled, and made themselves entirely at home.
"Mr. Swayne, will you do me the favor to read my commission to the crew," said Somers, handing him the document which he had carefully "tinkered" to suit the present occasion.
Tom Longstone held the lantern, and the acting first lieutenant promptly complied with the request of the assumed commander. The document proclaimed that John Pillgrim was duly invested with authority as a commander in the Confederate navy, and was duly signed by "S. R. Mallory," though whether that distinguished rebel functionary had actually issued the paper or not, Somers was himself as ignorant as the others who listened to the reading.
From his orders Somers then read enough to satisfyany who might be in doubt of his appointment to the Tallapoosa, which name he had substituted for that of Ben Nevis, as it read on the original document, given him by Langdon,aliasLieutenant Wynkoop.
"Are you satisfied, Mr. Swayne?" asked the commander, when he had finished the document.
"Entirely so, Captain Pillgrim," replied the first lieutenant.
If he had not been satisfied, probably he would have been put under arrest as summarily as his superior had been a few moments before. With such an energetic captain, it was lucky for him he was satisfied! Perhaps Mr. Swayne was duly and properly impressed by the decided character of his commander, and deemed it prudent to raise no objections.
"Are you satisfied, gentlemen?" asked Somers, turning to the little group of officers.
Fortunately for them, and perhaps for Somers too, they were also satisfied.
"My lads," continued the courteous but decisive captain, "you have listened to my commission, and you have listened to my orders."
Somers paused, and the two first-class firemen from the Chatauqua started a demonstration of applause which was a complete success.
"My lads, I am going out to take a look at the Yankee fleet, to-night," he proceeded.
Applause.
"I am a fighting man."
More applause.
"That Yankee fleet will not stop me!" added Somers, with enthusiasm.
"That's so!" shouted one of the first-class firemen, who had a high appreciation of a good joke; and his remark was followed by a storm of applause.
"I repeat, my lads, the Yankee fleet will not stop me. I shall pay my respects to the Yankee admiral down there before the sun rises."
Tumultuous applause.
"Now, my lads, I mean just what I say, and I say just what I mean. I command this ship, and every man on board obeys me. I am going through the Yankee fleet; will you go with me?"
"Ay, ay, sir!" roared the crew; and the voices of the Chatauqua's people were prominent in the reply.
"Will you go where I lead you?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Very likely I shall send you upon the deck of the heaviest man-of-war in the Yankee squadron; but I will go with you."
"Bully for the captain!" shouted the enthusiastic first-class fireman, which remark was indorsed and approved by the crew in general.
"What an awful fellow he is!—a regular fire-eater," whispered Mr. Swayne to Tom Longstone.
"He will do all he says he will," replied the boatswain.
"Will he board a Yankee frigate?"
"It's like him; but he is as prudent as he is brave."
"Now, my lads, to your duty. We shall get under way at once, and I want every man to be true to God and his country," continued Somers.
"Three cheers for the captain!" shouted the fireman; and they were given with a will, as Somers walked aft.
RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.
"Mr. Swayne, you will get the ship under way at once," said Somers, as he turned from the crew, and walked aft.
The first lieutenant gave his orders, and the crew were soon walking round the capstan. The officers of the Tallapoosa had certainly used their time to advantage, for the crew was well disciplined, though the twenty-four petty officers and seamen from the Chatauqua were the spice of every movement.
"Where is the pilot, Mr. Swayne?" asked Somers.
"We have one on board, sir. He berths in the steerage. Shall I send for him, Captain Pillgrim?"
"If you please, do so."
A master's mate was ordered to find the pilot.
"Is he up to his business?" continued Somers, to whom the pilotage of the vessel was of the last importance.
"Yes, sir; he is the best pilot in these waters. He has taken out a great many vessels on worse nights than this."
"I could take the vessel out myself, so far as that is concerned," said Somers, nervously. "Does he know how to get through the obstructions?"
"O, yes, sir; he is perfectly familiar with everything about the bay."
"And the channel is full of those infernal torpedoes."
"It is, sir; but the pilot knows exactly where every one of them is located. We are in no danger from them; but they will blow the Yankee fleet sky high when they attempt to come up, as they probably will in a short time."
"So I understand."
"There will be fun here in a few days," added Mr. Swayne, rubbing his hands with delight, as he contemplated the destruction of the naval force gathered on the other side of the bar for the demonstration.
"The admiral down there is no joker," suggested Somers. "He won't feel his way, and then back out."
"It would be better for him if he did. Admiral Buchanan is his equal in every respect. With his ram he will stave in every wooden ship in the fleet. His monitors will be blown up on the torpedoes."
"I hope the affair will come out right," said Somers, rather indefinitely.
"It will; you may depend upon it, captain. Whoever is here when the thing is done will see the greatest smash-up that has happened since the war began."
"I hope so," replied Somers. "But suppose Admiral Farragut should run by the forts."
"He can't do it; the thing is utterly impossible. The torpedoes will sink his monitors—they are like lead, and if you shake them up a little, they will plump down on the bottom like a solid shot. His wooden vessels, even if he gets by the fort,—which can't be done,—would be all chawed up in half an hour by the ram Tennessee."
"Anchor apeak, sir!" shouted Boatswain Longstone, who was doing duty as second lieutenant.
"Captain Column, the pilot, sir," said the first lieutenant, presenting a person who had been waiting a moment at his side.
"I am happy to see you, Captain Column;" and Somers took his hand.
"Thank you, sir," replied the pilot, who was evidently astonished at the degree of intimacy with which the commander condescended to treat him.
Already the new captain had won a hard reputation abaft the mainmast. His stern and decisive measures with Langdon had been privately discussed among the officers, and it was the unanimous opinion that they had "caught a Tartar."
"Well, Captain Column, have you got your weather eye open? This is a dark and foggy night."
"Wide open, sir," replied the pilot, cheerfully; forSomers's cordial greeting had already produced a good effect upon him. "The darker and foggier the better, captain, for such a job as this. But there are so many Yankee ships outside, you can hardly get clear of them without a shot or two."
"O, I don't mind that, if you can get us well over the torpedoes, and through the obstructions."
"The obstructions are not of much account, and as for the torpedoes, I could put my hand on every one of them with my eyes shut."
"Good; but I don't want you to put your hand or my ship on them."
"Certainly not, captain," laughed the pilot. "I know how to keep clear of them."
"That will suit me better. The ship is in your hands, Captain Column."
A quartermaster from the Chatauqua was placed at the wheel, and when the anchor was heaved up, the Tallapoosa started on her course. Her wheels began to turn very slowly at first, and before she had gathered any headway, a boat touched at her side.
"Boat alongside, Captain Pillgrim," reported Mr. Swayne.
"What boat?"
"I don't know, sir."
"I have no more time to waste; keep the ship moving."
As the Tallapoosa gathered headway, a gentleman, clothed in naval uniform, stepped on the rail from the accommodation ladder. When he had reached this point, he stopped and looked down at the boat.
"Stop the steamer!" shouted he, in tones of authority; and to those who had heard it before there was no mistaking that voice.
It was Pillgrim, without a doubt! Somers was vexed and disappointed at this accident, which threatened to overthrow all his plans; but he promptly decided to treat him as he had Langdon.
"See what he wants," said the commander to Swayne, "but don't let the ship be delayed a single instant."
"Stop the steamer!" shouted Pillgrim, with a volley of oaths, because his first order had not been heeded. "Stop the steamer, or you will swamp my gig!"
"Your business, sir, if you please," said Swayne, stepping up to him.
"Don't you hear what I say?" replied Pillgrim, angrily. "Stop the steamer."
"It can't be done, sir."
"Can't be done!" gasped the traitor. "It can and shall be done."
"Who are you, sir, that step upon this deck in that overbearing manner?" demanded the first lieutenant, roused by the tones and the manner of the new comer.
"I'll let you know who I am. Where is Langdon?"
"None of your business where he is," said Swayne, spunkily. "What do you want here?"
"You shall soon know what I want here!"
Pillgrim was boiling over with passion at the rough reception given him by his officers on board his own ship. He was disposed to be even more stern and severe in his discipline than Somers had been.
"Who are you?" demanded Swayne.
"None of your business who I am, if you don't know; but I will soon bring you to your senses," roared Pillgrim, as he leaped down upon the deck, and with the step of a conqueror moved aft towards the wheel.
"Halt, sir!" said Mr. Swayne, placing himself in front of the stranger; for he was roused to a high pitch of anger and excitement by the unwarrantable conduct of the interloper. "You can go no farther on this deck, sir, till you explain who and what you are."
Somers stood where he could see without being seen; for his presence on the deck of the Ben Lomond would have explained to Pillgrim the reason for his uncourteous reception. He quietly sent the two firemen and a couple of seamen to the assistance of Mr. Swayne.
"I am the captain of this ship," replied Pillgrim, who found it necessary to make this statement.
"The man is crazy," muttered Swayne.
"You understand me now," growled Pillgrim. "Stop the ship!"
"I think not, sir," replied Swayne, coolly; and he evidently regarded the claim of the stranger in the light of a joke, or as the whim of a maniac.
"You think not!" gasped Pillgrim, roused almost to madness by this cool disregard of his authority. "I'll have you in irons in three minutes, you scoundrel."
"There, sir, I have heard enough of this!" said Swayne. "No man uses such language as that to me with impunity."
"I tell you I am the commander of this steamer," added Pillgrim, who doubtless felt that the epithet he had used was unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.
"I don't care what you are. If your boat is alongside, you will go into it, in double quick time."
Pillgrim began to storm again, shouted to the pilot to stop the steamer, and behaved in the most violent manner. Mr. Swayne's patience was totally exhausted, and he ordered the seamen who stood near him to arrest the interloper. A sharp struggle ensued, in which Pillgrim was overpowered, and was held fast by the stout tars of the Chatauqua.
The first lieutenant then explained to the captain what had passed, and what he had done.
"Put him in irons!" said Somers, decidedly.
"Who is he, captain?"
"It matters not who he is. No man can behave in that manner on board of this ship."
Swayne executed his orders to the letter, and the traitor, in spite of his struggles, in spite of his explanations and appeals, was put in irons on the quarter deck of his own ship. He was carried below, and put in a state-room, which was guarded by Conant, who had orders to shoot him if he did not keep quiet.
In the mean time, the Ben Lomond,—for Somers, in strict accordance with the subsequent "ruling" of Mr. Seward, refused to recognize the vessel by any other than her original name, calling her the Tallapoosa only in the presence of the rebels,—the Ben Lomond, under the skilful guidance of the pilot, was slowly making her way out of the bay. A quartermaster had been stationed in the fore-chains when the steamer got under way, to take the soundings, which seemed to be the pilot's principal reliance in the difficult duty he had undertaken. Captain Column had placed himself on the port rail, just abaft the foremast, and the steering directions were sent aft through a line of officers to the helmsman.
"By the deep four," sang the quartermaster in the chains.
"Steady!" said the pilot. "Keep her sou'-west by west, half west."
"Steady!" responded the quartermaster at the wheel. "Sou'-west by west, half west."
"By the mark five!" said the leadsman, a little later.
"We are getting into deep water," said Somers.
"Yes, sir; we shall deepen till we get seven fathoms."
"And a half five!" came from the chains. "By the deep six."
The pilot went on the bridge, and taking the cord attached to the whistle of the engine, made a signal, consisting of several blasts, with irregular intervals between them. A heavy bell on shore sounded several times in answer to the signal.
"All right," said the pilot. "I know exactly where I am."
"By the deep six!" called the leadsman.
The pilot repeated the signal with the whistle, which was answered from the shore by the bell.
"Quarter less seven!"
"It is all going right, captain," said the pilot to Somers, who stood on the bridge with him.
"By the mark seven!"
"Hard a port!" shouted the pilot, as he gazed into the binnacle on the bridge.
"Hard a port!" repeated the line of officers, till the order was returned by the wheelman.
"Steady!" said the pilot.
"Mark under water seven!" cried the quartermaster in the chains.
"Keep her south by west," added the pilot.
"South by west!" returned the wheelman.