AN old friend of ours is David G. Farragut. We met him, you may remember, years ago, on the oldEssex, under Captain Porter, when he was a boy of only about ten years of age. Young as he was, he did good work on that fine ship during her cruise in the Pacific and her last great fight.
When the Civil War began Farragut had got to be quite an old boy. He was sixty years of age and a captain in the navy. He had been born in the South and now lived in Virginia, and the Confederates very much wanted him to fight on their side.
"Not after fighting fifty years for the old flag," he said. "And mind what I tell you; you fellows will catch much more than youwant before you get through with this business."
And so Farragut reported for duty under the old flag.
Very soon the ships of the government were busy all along the coast, blockading ports and chasing blockade runners, and fighting wherever they saw a chance.
One such chance, a big one, came away down South. For there was the large City of New Orleans, which the British had tried to take nearly fifty years before; and there was the Mississippi River that led straight to it. But strong forts had been built along that river and armed boats were on its waters, and the Yankees of the North might find it as hard to get there as the British did.
Now I have to speak of another brave man and good seaman, David D. Porter. He was a son of the captain of the oldEssex, and a life-long friend of David G. Farragut.
Porter was sent down to help blockade the Mississippi in the summer of 1861, and while there he found out all about the forts and the ships on the river. Then he went to Washington and told the Secretary of the Navy all hehad learned, and asked him to send down a fleet to try to capture the city.
"Where can I find the right man for a big job like that?" asked the Secretary.
"Captain Farragut is your man," said Porter. "You have him now on committee work, where a man like him is just wasted, for you have not half as good a seaman on any of your ships."
And in that way the gallant Farragut was chosen to command the fleet to be sent to capture the great city of the South. Porter, you see, did not ask for a command for himself, but for his friend.
When the fleet was got ready it numbered nearly twenty vessels, but most of them were gunboats, and none of them were very large. The Mississippi was not the place for very large ships. Farragut chose the sloop-of-warHartfordfor his flagship and sailed merrily away for the mighty river. He did not forget his friend Porter. For twenty mortar boats were added to the fleet, and Porter was given command of these.
A mortar, you should know, is a kind of a short cannon made to throw large shells orballs. It is pointed upward so as to throw them high up into the air and then let them fall straight down on a fort. Porter's mortar boats were schooners that carried cannons of this kind.
When Farragut had sailed his fleet into the river, he made ready for the great fight before him. Of course, he had no iron-clads, for theMonitorhad just fought its great battle and no other iron-clads had been built. So he stretched iron chains up and down the sides of his ships to stop cannon balls. Then bags of coal and sand were piled round the boilers and engines to keep them safe, and nets were hung to catch flying splinters, which, in a fight at sea, are often worse than bullets.
But the most interesting thing done was to the mortar boats. These were to be anchored down the stream below the forts, and limbs of trees full of green leaves were tied on their masts, so they could not be told from the trees on the river-bank. As they went up the river they looked like a green grove afloat.
Now let us take a look at what the Confederates were doing. They were not asleep, you may be sure. They had built two strong forts,one on each side of the river, just where it made a sharp bend. One of these was named Fort Jackson and the other Fort St. Philip. There were more than a hundred cannon in these forts, but most of them were small ones.
They had also stretched iron cables across the river, with rafts and small vessels to hold them up. These were to stop the fleet from going up the river, and to hold it fast while the forts could pour shot and shell into it. They had also many steamboats with cannon on them. One of these, theLouisiana, was covered with iron. Another was a ram, called theManassas. This had a sharp iron beak, to ram and sink other vessels. And there were great coal barges, filled with fat pine knots. These were meant for fire-ships. You will learn farther on how these were to be used.
You may see from this that Farragut had some hard work before him. Even if he got past the chains and the forts, all his ships might be set on fire by the fire-ships. But the bold captain was not one of the kind that mind things like that. Now let us go on to the story of the terrible river fight, which haslong been one of the most famous battles of the war.
Porter's mortar boats were anchored under the trees on the river-bank, two miles below the forts. With their green-clad masts they looked like trees themselves. At ten o'clock in the morning of April 18, 1862, the first mortar sent its big shell whizzing through the air. And for six days this was kept up, each of the mortars booming out once every ten minutes. That made one shot for every half-minute.
Two days after the mortars began, a bold thing was done. The gunboatItascaset out in the darkness of the night and managed to get between the shore and the chain. Then it ran up stream above the chain till it got a good headway. It now turned round and came down at full speed before the strong current.
Fort Jackson was firing, and balls were rattling all about the boldItasca, but she rushed on through them all. Plump against the chain she came, with a thud that lifted her three feet out of the water. Then the chain snapped in two and away went theItascadown stream. The barrier was broken and the way to New Orleans lay open before the fleet.
On the 23d of April Farragut gave his orders to the captains of the fleet. That night they were to try to pass the forts and fight their way to New Orleans. At two o'clock in the morning came the welcome order, "All hands up anchor!" and at three o'clock all was ready for the start.
The night was dark, but on the banks near Fort Jackson there was a blazing wood fire, that threw its light across the stream. And Porter's bombs were being fired as fast as the men could drop the balls into them, so that there was a great arch of fiery shells between the mortar boats and the forts.
The gunboatCayugaled the way through the broken barrier. After her came thePensacola, one of the large vessels. All this time the forts had kept still, but now they blazed out with all their guns, and the air was full of the booming of cannon and the screeching of shells from forts and ships.
Great piles of wood were kindled on the banks, and the fire-ships up stream were sent blazing down the river as the steam vessels came rushing up into the fire of the forts. Never had the Mississippi seen so terrible anight. The blazing wood and flashing guns made it as light as day, and the roar was like ten thunderstorms.
Soon theHartfordcame on, with Farragut on her deck. So thick was the smoke that she ran aground, and before she could get off a fire-ship came blazing down against her side, pushed by a tug-boat straight on to her. In a minute the paint on the ship's side was in a blaze and the flames shot up half as high as the masts. The men at the guns drew back from the scorching heat.
"Don't flinch from that blaze, boys," cried Farragut. "Those who don't do their duty here will find a hotter fire than that."
For a brief time the good ship was in great danger. But a shower of shells sent the daring tug-boat to the bottom, and the fire-ship floated away. Then a hose-pipe spurted water on the flames. The fire was put out and theHartfordwas saved.
That was only the beginning of the great battle. From that time on, fire and flame, boom and roar, death and destruction, were everywhere. The great shells from the mortars dropped bursting into the forts. The hugewood piles blazed high on the banks. Ships and forts hurled a frightful shower of shells at each other. Blazing fire-ships came drifting down. The foremost boats were fiercely fighting with the Confederate craft. The hindmost boats were fighting with the forts. The uproar seemed enough to drive the very moon from the sky.
But soon victory began to hold out her hand to the Union fleet. For all the ships passed the forts, some of the Confederate vessels were driven ashore and others fled up stream; and in a little while only three of them were left, and these were kept safe under the guns of the fort. The battle had been fought and won, and the triumphant fleet steamed up the river to New Orleans. The forts were still there, but what could they do, with Union forces above and below? Four days after the fight they were surrendered to Porter and his mortar fleet.
There was one final act to the great Mississippi battle. For as Commander Porter, in his flagship, lay near Fort Jackson, down on him came the iron-cladLouisiana, all in a blaze. But just before she reached his vessel she blewup; and that was the end of theLouisianaand the fight. The river was open and New Orleans was captured. Thus ended the greatest naval battle of the Civil War.
Two years and more afterward Farragut fought another great battle. This was in the Bay of Mobile, then a great place for blockade-runners. These were swift vessels that brought goods from Europe to the South. The Union fleet did all it could to stop them, but they could not be stopped at Mobile from outside, so Farragut was told to fight his way inside the bay. And that is what he did.
Mobile Bay is like a great bell, thirty miles long and fifteen miles wide. There are two islands at the mouth, so that the entrance is not more than a mile wide. And on each of these islands was a strong fort, which had been built by the government before the war. The Confederates had taken possession of these forts and had big guns in them.
The first thing to do was to pass the forts. No chain could be put across the channel here, but there was something worse, for nearly two hundred torpedoes were planted in the water near the forts. Some of these were made ofbeer-kegs and some of tin; and they were planted so thickly that it was not easy to get in without setting them off. Then, when the fort and the torpedoes were passed, there were the ships. Three of these were small gunboats, of not much account. But there was a great iron-clad ship, theTennessee, which was twice as strong as theMerrimac. It was covered with iron five or six inches thick, and carried a half-dozen big guns.
Franklin Buchanan, who had been captain of theMerrimac, was admiral of theTennessee.
But Admiral Farragut—he was an admiral now—had his iron-clad vessels, too. Four monitors like the oldMonitorof Hampton Roads, had been built and sent him, and these, with his wooden vessels, made nearly twenty ships.
Such was the fleet with which Farragut set out for his second great victory, early in the morning of August 5, 1864. It was six o'clock when the ships crossed the bar and headed in for Fort Morgan.
On they went, bravely, firing at the fort. But not a shot came back till the leading ships were in front of its strong stone walls. Thenthere began a terrible roar, and a storm of iron balls poured out at the ships. If the guns had been well aimed, dreadful work might have been done, but the balls went screaming through the air and hardly touched a ship. And the fierce fire from the ships drove many of the men in the fort from their guns.
But now there is a terrible tale to tell, a tale of death and destruction, of the sinking of a ship with her captain and nearly all her crew on board.
This was the monitorTecumseh. It was steered straight out where the torpedoes lay thick. Suddenly there came a dull roar. The bow of the iron-clad was lifted like a feather out of the water. Then it sank till it pointed downward like a boy diving, and the stern was lifted up into the air. In a second more the good ship went down with a mighty plunge.
But with this there is also one fine story, the story of a gallant man. This was Captain Craven, of theTecumseh. He and the pilot were in the pilot-house and both sprang for the opening. But there was room only for one. The brave captain drew back.
"After you, pilot," he said.
The pilot escaped, but the noble captain, with ninety-two of his men, sank to the depths.
A boat was sent to pick up the swimmers, with a gallant young ensign, H. C. Neilds, in charge. Out they rowed where the waters were being torn and threshed with shot and shell. The ensign was only a boy, but he had the spirit of a Perry. He saw that his flag was not flying, and he coolly raised it in the face of the foe, and then sat down to steer.
Brave men were there by the hundreds, but none were braver than their admiral, their immortal Farragut. The smoke blinded his eyes on deck, so he climbed to the top of the mainmast, and there, lashed to the rigging, he went in through the thick of the fire. Shells screeched past him, great iron balls hustled by his ears, but not a quiver came over his noble face. He had to be where he could see, he said. Danger did not count where duty called.
On past the forts went ships and monitors, heedless of torpedoes or of the fate of theTecumseh. Only one captain showed the white feather. TheBrooklynheld back.
"What is the matter?" screamed Farragut.
"Torpedoes," was the only word that reached his ears.
The gallant admiral then used a strong word. It was not a word to be used in polite society. But we must remember that battle was raging about him and he was in a fury.
"Damn the torpedoes!" he cried. "Follow me!"
Straight on the good ship sailed, right for the nest of torpedoes, with the admiral in the shrouds.
In a minute more theHartfordwas among them. They could be heard striking against her bottom. Their percussion caps snapped, but not one went off. Their tin cases had rusted and they were spoiled. Only one of them all went off that dreadful day of battle. That saved many of the ships.
The fort and the torpedoes were passed, but the Confederate ships remained. It did not take long to settle for the gunboats, but the iron-cladTennesseeremained. Putting on all steam, this great ship ran down on the Union fleet. Through the whole line it went and on to the fort. But it was as slow as a tub and the ships were easily kept out of its way.
Then, when the men were at breakfast, back again came theTennessee. They left their coffee and ran to their guns. It was like the old story of theMerrimacand the wooden ships in Hampton Roads.
But Farragut did not wait to be rammed by theTennessee. If ramming was to be done he wanted to do it himself. So all the large vessels steamed head on for the iron-clad, butting her right and left. They hit one another, too, and theHartfordcame near being sunk. Then came the monitors, as the firstMonitorhad come against theMerrimac. There were three of these left, but one did the work, theChickasaw. She clung like a burr to theTennessee, pouring in her great iron balls, and doing so much damage that soon the great ship was like a floating hulk. It could not be steered nor its guns fired.
For twenty minutes it stood this dreadful hammering, and then its flag came down. The battle was won.
"It was the most desperate battle I ever fought since the days of the oldEssex," said Farragut.
The figure of the brave admiral in the rigging,fighting his ship amid a cyclone of shot and shell, made him the hero of the American people. It was like Dewey on the bridge in Manila Bay in a later war. There was no rank high enough in the navy to fit the glory he had won, so one was made for him, the rank of admiral. There was rear-admiral and vice-admiral, but admiral was new and higher still. Only two men have held this rank since his day, his good friend and comrade, David D. Porter, and the brave George Dewey.
OF course you know what a tremendous task the North had before it in the Civil War. The war between the North and the South was like a battle of giants. And in this vast contest the navy had to do its share, both out at sea and on the rivers of the country. One of its big bits of work was to cut off the left arm of the Confederacy, and leave it only its right arm to fight with.
By the left arm I mean the three states west of the Mississippi River, and by the right arm, the eight states east of that great river. To cut off this left arm the government had to get control of the whole river, from St. Louis to the Gulf, so that no Confederate troops could cross the great stream.
You have read how Farragut and Porterbegan this work, by capturing New Orleans and all the river below it. And they went far up the river, too. But in the end such great forts were built at Vicksburg and Port Hudson and other points that the Confederate government held the river in a tight grasp.
In this way the Confederacy became master of the Mississippi for a thousand miles. We are to see now how it was taken from their grasp.
James B. Eads, the engineer who built the great railroad bridge over the Mississippi at St. Louis, made the first iron-clads for the West. There were seven of these. They were river steamers, and were covered with iron, but it was not very thick. Two others were afterward built, making nine in all.
Each of these boats had thirteen guns, and they did good work in helping the army to capture two strong Confederate forts in Kentucky. Then they went down the Mississippi to an island that was called Island No. 10. It was covered with forts, stretching one after another all along its shore.
A number of mortar boats were brought down and threw shells into the forts till theywere half paved with iron. But all that did no good. Then Admiral Foote was asked to send one of the boats down past the forts.
That was dreadfully dangerous work, for there were guns enough in them to sink twenty such boats. But Captain Walke thought he could take his boat, theCarondelet, down, and the admiral told him he might try.
What was theCarondeletlike, do you ask? Well, she was a long, wide boat, with sloping sides and a flat roof, and was covered with iron two and a half inches thick. Four of her guns peeped out from each side, while three looked out from the front door, and two from the back door of the boat.
Captain Walke did not half expect to get through the iron storm from the forts. To make his boat stronger, extra planks were laid on her deck and chain cables were drawn tightly across it. Then lumber was heaped thickly round the boiler and engines, and ropes were wrapped round and round the pilot-house till they were eighteen inches thick.
After that a barge filled with bales of hay was tied fast to the side that would catch the fire of the forts. Something was done also tostop the noise of the steam pipes, for Captain Walke thought he might slip down at night without being seen or heard.
On the night of April 10, 1862, the boat made its dash down stream. It started just as a heavy thunderstorm came on. The wind whistled, the rain poured down in sheets, and the men in the forts hid from the storm. They were not thinking then of runaway gunboats.
But something nobody had thought of now took place. The blazing wood in the furnaces set fire to the soot in the chimneys, and in a minute the boat was like a great flaming torch. As the men in the forts sprang up, the lightning flashed out on the clouds, and lit up "the gallant little ship floating past like a phantom."
The gunners did not mind the rain any more. They ran in great haste to their guns, and soon the batteries were flaming and roaring louder than the thunder itself.
Fort after fort took it up as theCarondeletslid swiftly past. The lightning and the blazing smoke-stack showed her plainly to the gunners. But the bright flashes blinded their eyes so that they could not half aim their guns. And thus it was that the brave littleCarondeletwent under the fire of fifty guns without being harmed.
Soon after that Island No. 10 was given up to the Union forces. Then the gunboats went farther down the river, and had two hard fights with Confederate boats, one at Fort Pillow and one at Memphis. Both these places were captured, and in that way the river was opened all the way from St. Louis to Vicksburg.
The City of Vicksburg is in the State of Mississippi, about two hundred miles above New Orleans. Here are high river banks; and these were covered thick with forts, so that Vicksburg was the strongest place along the whole stream.
There were also strong forts at Port Hudson, about seventy-five miles below Vicksburg; and these seventy-five miles were all the Confederates now held of the great stream. But they held these with a very strong hand and were not to let go easily.
There were some great events at Vicksburg; and I must tell about a few of these next.
After New Orleans was taken Farragut took his ships up the river, running past the forts. He could easily have taken Vicksburg then, ifhe had had any soldiers. But he had none, and it took a great army of soldiers, under General Grant, to capture it a year afterward.
David D. Porter, who had helped Farragut so well in his great fight, was put in command of the Mississippi fleet. He had a number of iron-clad boats under him, some of them having iron so thin that they were called tin-clads.
Commodore Porter had plenty to do. Now he sent his boats up through the Yazoo swamps, then they had a fight on the Arkansas River; and in this way he was kept busy.
In February, 1863, he sent two of his boats, theQueen of the Westand theIndianola, down past the Vicksburg forts. That was an easy run. There was plenty of firing, but nobody was hurt. But after they got below they found trouble enough.
First, theQueen of the Westran aground and could not be got off. Then theIndianolahad a hole rammed in her side by a Confederate boat and went to the bottom. So there wasn't much gained by sending these two boats down stream.
But a curious thing took place. The Confederates got theQueen of the Westoff themud, and tried to raise theIndianolaand stop its leaks.
While they were hard at work at this they heard a frightful roar from the Vicksburg batteries. Looking up stream they saw a big boat coming down upon them at full speed. When they saw this they put the two big guns of theIndianolamouth to mouth, fired them into each other to ruin them, and then ran away. But weren't they vexed afterward when they learned that the boat that scared them was only a dummy which Porter's men had sent down the river in a frolic.
After that, the river batteries did not give the ships much trouble. When the right time came Porter's fleet ran down the river through the fire of all the forts. One boat caught fire and sank, but all the rest passed safely through. This was done to help General Grant, who was marching his army down, to get below Vicksburg.
I suppose all readers of American history know about the great event of the 4th of July, 1863. On that day Vicksburg was given up to the Union forces, with all its forts and all its men. Five days afterward Port Hudsonsurrendered. Porter and his boats now held the great river through all its length.
But there is something more to tell about Admiral Porter, who was a rear-admiral now.
In the spring of 1864 General Banks was sent with an army up the Red River. He was going to Shreveport, which is about four hundred miles above where the Red River runs into the Mississippi. Porter went along with his river fleet to help.
Now, no more need be said about Banks and his army, except that the whole expedition was only a waste of time, for it did no good; and there would be nothing to say about Porter and his fleet, if they had not gotten into a bad scrape which gave them hard work to get out.
The boats went up the river easily enough, but when they tried to come down they found themselves in a trap. For after they had gone up, the river began to fall and the water came to be very low.
There are two rapids, or small falls, on this part of the Red River, which show only at low water. They showed plainly enough now; and there were twelve of the boats above them, caught fast.
What was to be done? If they tried to run down the falls they would be smashed into kindling wood. It looked very much as if they would have to be left for the Confederates, or set on fire and burned.
By good luck there was one man there who knew what to do. He was a lieutenant-colonel from Wisconsin, named Joseph Baily. He had been a log-driver before the war and knew what was done when logs got jammed in a stream.
When he told his plan he was laughed at by some who thought it very foolish, but Porter told him to go ahead. So, with 2,000 soldiers from Maine, who knew all about logging, he went into the woods, chopped down trees, and built a dam below the falls.
The men worked so hard that it took them only eight days to build the dam; which was wonderfully quick work. A place was left open in the center, and there four barges loaded with brick were sunk.
When the dam was finished it lifted the water six feet higher, and down in safety went three of the steamers, while the army shouted and cheered. But just then two of the sunkenbarges were carried away, and the water poured through the break in a flood.
The gunboatLexingtonwas just ready to start. Admiral Porter stood on the bank watching.
"Go ahead!" he shouted.
At once the engines were started and theLexingtonshot down the foaming rapid. There were no cheers now; everybody was still.
Down she went, rolling and leaping on the wild waters; but soon she shot safe into the still pool below. All the other vessels were also safely taken down.
NOW I am going to tell you about one of the most gallant deeds done in the navy during the whole Civil War. The man who did it was brave enough to be made admiral of the fleet, yet he did not get even a gold medal for his deed. But he is one of our heroes. It is all about an iron-clad steamer, and how it was sent to rest in the mud of a river-bottom.
The Confederate government had very bad luck with its iron-clads. It was busy enough building them, but they did not pay for their cost. TheMerrimacdid the most harm, but it soon went up in fire and smoke.
Then there were theLouisianaat New Orleans, and theTennesseeat Mobile. Farragut made short work of them. Two were built atCharleston which were of little use. The last of them all was theAlbemarle, whose story I am about to tell.
The Roanoke River, in North Carolina, was a fine stream for blockade-runners. There was a long line of ships and gunboats outside, but in spite of them these swift runaways kept dashing in, loaded with goods for the people. Poor people! they needed them badly enough, for they had little of anything except what they could raise in their fields.
But the gunboats kept pushing farther into the river, and gave the Confederates no end of trouble. So they began to build an iron-clad which they thought could drive these wooden wasps away.
This iron-clad was a queer ship. Its keel was laid in a cornfield; its bolts and bars were hammered out in a blacksmith shop. Iron for its engines was picked up from the scrap heaps of the iron works at Richmond. Some of the Confederates laughed at it themselves; but they deserved great credit for building a ship under such difficulties as these.
It was finished in April, 1864, and nobody laughed at it when they saw it afloat. It waslike theMerrimacin shape, and was covered with iron four inches thick. They named it theAlbemarle.
Very soon theAlbemarleshowed that it was no laughing matter. It sunk one gunboat and made another run away in great haste. Then it had a fight with four of them at once and drove one of these lame and limping away. The others did not come too near. After that it went back to the town of Plymouth and was tied up at the wharf.
There was another iron-clad being built, and theAlbemarlewas kept waiting, so that the two could work together. That was a bad thing for theAlbemarle, for she never went out again.
This brings us back to the gallant deed I spoke of, and the gallant fellow who did the deed. His name was William B. Cushing. He was little more than a boy, just twenty-one years old, but he did not know what it meant to be afraid, and he had done so many daring things already that he had been made a lieutenant.
He wanted to try to destroy theAlbemarle, and his captain, who knew how bold a fellowhe was, told him to go ahead and do his best.
So on a dark night in October, 1864, brave young Cushing started up the river in a steam launch, with men and guns. At the bow of this launch was a long spar, and at the end of this spar was a torpedo holding a hundred pounds of dynamite. There was a trigger and a cap to set this off, a string to lower the spar and another to pull the trigger. But it was a poor affair to send on such an expedition as that.
And this was not the worst. Some of the newspapers had found out what Cushing was going to do, and printed the whole story. And some of these newspapers got down South and let out the secret. That is what is called "newspaper enterprise." It is very good in its right place, but it was a sort of enterprise that nearly spoiled Cushing's plans.
For the Confederates put lines of sentries along the river, and stationed a lookout down the stream, and placed a whole regiment of soldiers near the wharf. And logs were chained fast around the vessel so that no torpedo spar could reach her. And the men on board weresharply on the watch. That is what the newspapers did for Lieutenant Cushing.
Of course, the young lieutenant did not know all this, and he felt full of hope as his boat went up stream without being seen or heard. The night was very dark and there were no lights on board, and the engines were new and made no noise.
So he passed the lookout in the river and the sentries on the banks without an eye seeing him or his boat.
But when he came up to the iron-clad his hopes went down. For there was the boom of logs so far out that his spar could not reach her.
What was he to do? Should he land at the wharf and take his men on board, and try to capture her where she lay?
Before he had time to think it was too late for that. A sentry on board saw the launch and called out:
"Boat ahoy!" There was no answer.
"What boat is that?" Still no answer.
Then came a musket shot, and then a rattle of musketry from the river bank. A minute after lights flashed out and men came runningdown the wharf. The ship's crew tumbled up from below. All was haste and confusion.
Almost any man would have given it up for lost and run for safety. But Cushing was not of that kind. It did not take him a second to decide. He ran the launch out into the stream, turned her round, and dashed at full speed straight for the boom.
A storm of bullets came from the deck of theAlbemarle, but he heeded them no more than if they had been snowflakes. In a minute the bow of the launch struck the logs.
They were slippery with river slime and the light boat climbed up on them, driving them down under the water. Over she went, and slid into the water inside the boom.
Cushing stood in the bow, with the trigger-string in his hand. He lowered the torpedo under the hull of the iron-clad, lifted it till he felt it touch her bottom, and then pulled the string.
There came two loud reports. A hundred-pounder gun was being fired from the ship's side right over his head. Along with it came a dull roar from under the water. The dynamite torpedo had gone off, tearing a great holein the wooden bottom. In a minute the ill-fatedAlbemarlebegan to sink.
The launch was fast inside the boom, and the wave from her torpedo was rushing over her, carrying her down.
"Surrender," came a voice from above.
"Never! Swim for your lives, men," cried Cushing, and he sprang into the flowing stream.
Two or three bullets had gone through his clothing, but he was unhurt, and swam swiftly away, his men after him.
Only Cushing and one of the men got away. The others were captured, except one who was drowned. Boats were quickly out, a fire of logs was made on the wharf, which threw its light far out over the stream, but he reached the shore unseen, chilled to the bone and completely worn out.
A sentry was pacing on the wall of a fort over his head, men passed looking for him, but he managed to creep to the swamp nearby and hide in the mud and reeds.
There he lay till the break of day. Then he crawled on till he got into a cornfield nearby. Now for the first time he could stand up andwalk. But just as he got to the other side of the field he came face to face with a man.
Cushing was not afraid. It was a black face. In those days no Union soldier was afraid of a black face. The slaves would do anything for "Massa Linkums' sojers." The young lieutenant was almost as black as the slave after his long crawl through the mud.
Cushing told him who he was, and sent him into the town for news, waiting in the cornfield for his return. After an hour the messenger came back. His face was smiling with delight.
"Good news, Massa," he said. "De big iron ship's gone to de bottom suah. Folks dar say she'll neber git up agin."
"Mighty good," said Cushing. "Now, old man, tell me how I can get back to the ships."
The negro told him all he could, and with a warm "Good-bye" the fugitive took to the swamp again. On he went, hour by hour, forcing his way through the thick bushes and wading in the deep mud. Thus he went on, mile after mile, until at length, at two o'clock in the afternoon, he found himself on the banks of a narrow creek.
Here he heard voices and drew back. Looking through the bushes he saw a party of seven soldiers just landing from a boat. They tied the boat to the root of a tree and went up a path that led back from the river. Soon they stopped, sat down, and began to eat their dinner. They could see their boat from where they sat, but they were too busy eating to think of that.
Here was Cushing's chance. It was a desperate one, but he was ready to try anything. He lowered himself quietly into the stream, swam across, and untied the boat. Then he noiselessly pushed it out and swam with it down stream. As soon as he was out of sight of the soldiers he climbed in and rowed away as fast as he could. What the soldiers thought and said when they missed their boat nobody knows. He did not see them again.
It was a long journey. The creek was crooked and winding. Night came on before he reached the river. Then he paddled on till midnight. Ten hours of hard toil had passed when he saw the dark hull of a gunboat nearby.
"Ship ahoy!" he cried.
"Who goes there?" called the lookout.
"A friend. Take me up."
A boat was lowered and rowed towards him. The officer in it looked with surprise when he saw a mud-covered man, with scratched and bleeding face.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Lieutenant Cushing, or what is left of him."
"Cushing!—and how about theAlbemarle?"
"She will never trouble Uncle Sam's ships again. She lies in her muddy grave on the bottom of the Roanoke."
Cheers followed this welcome news, and when the gallant lieutenant was safe on board theValley Citythe cheers grew tenfold.
For Lieutenant Cushing had done a deed which was matched for daring only once in the history of our navy, and that was when Decatur burned thePhiladelphiain the harbor of Tripoli.
IF you look at a map of the country we dwell in, you will see that it has a finger pointing south. That finger is called Florida, and it points to the beautiful island of Cuba, which spreads out there to right and left across the sea of the South.
The Spaniards in Cuba were very angry when they found the United States trying to stop the war which they had carried on so mercilessly. They thought this country had nothing to do with their affairs. And in Havana, the capital city of the island, riots broke out and Americans were insulted.
Never before in the history of the United States navy had there been so terrible a disaster as the sinking of theMaineby a frightfuland deadly explosion in the harbor of Havana, Cuba, on February 15, 1898, and never was there greater grief and indignation in the United States than when the story was told.
Do you know what followed this dreadful disaster? But of course you do, for it seems almost yesterday that theMainewent down with her slaughtered crew. Everybody said that the Spaniards had done this terrible deed and Spain should pay for it. We all said so and thought so, you and I and all true Americans.
Before the loss of theMainemany people thought we ought to go to war with Spain, and put an end to the cruelty with which the Cubans were treated. After her loss there were not many who thought we ought not to. Our people were in a fury. They wanted war, and were eager to have it.
The heads of the government at Washington felt the same way. Many millions of dollars were voted by Congress, and much of this was spent in buying ships and hiring and repairing ships, and much more of it in getting the army ready for war.
For Congress was as full of war-feeling asthe people. President McKinley would have liked to have peace, but he could no more hold back the people and Congress than a man with an ox-chain could hold back a locomotive. So it was that, two months after theMainesank in the mud of Havana harbor, like a great coffin filled with the dead, war was declared against Spain.
Now, I wish to tell you how the loss of theMainewas avenged. I am not going to tell you here all about what our navy did in the war. There are some good stories to tell about that. But just here we have to think about theMaineand her murdered men, and have to tell about how one of her officers paid Spain back for the dreadful deed.
As soon as the telegraph brought word to the fleet at Key West that "War is declared," the great ships lifted their anchors and sped away, bound for Cuba, not many miles to the south. And about a month afterward this great fleet of battleships, and monitors, and cruisers, and gunboats were in front of the harbor of Santiago, holding fast there Admiral Cervera and his men, who were in Santiago harbor with the finest warships owned by Spain.
There were in the American fleet big ships and little ships, strong ships and weak ships; and one of the smallest of them all was the littleGloucester. This had once been a pleasure yacht, used only for sport. It was now a gunboat ready for war. It had only a few small guns, but these were of the "rapid-fire" kind, which could pour out iron balls almost as fast as hailstones come from the sky in a storm.
And in command of theGloucesterwas Lieutenant Wainwright, who had been night officer of theMainewhen that ill-fated ship was blown up by a Spanish mine. The gallant lieutenant was there to avenge his lost ship.
I shall tell you later about how the Spanish ships dashed out of the harbor of Santiago on the 3d of July and what happened to them. Just now you wish to know what Lieutenant Wainwright and the littleGloucesterdid on that great day, and how Spain was made to pay for the loss of theMaine.
As soon as the Spanish ships came out, theGloucesterdashed at them, like a wasp trying to sting an ox. She steamed right across the mouth of the harbor until she almost touchedone of the great Spanish ships, all the time firing away like mad at its iron sides.
The brave Wainwright saw two little boats coming out behind these big ones. These were what are called torpedo-boats.
Do you know what this means? A torpedo-boat is little, but it can dart through the water with the speed of the wind. And it carries torpedoes—iron cases filled with dynamite—which it can shoot out against the great warships. One of these could tear a gaping hole in the side of a battleship and send it, with all on board, to the bottom. A torpedo-boat is the rattlesnake of the sea. It is little, but it is deadly.
But Lieutenant Wainwright and the men of theGloucesterwere not afraid of theFurorand thePluton, the Spanish torpedo-boats. As soon as they saw these boats they drove their little vessel toward them at full speed. TheGloucestercame under the fire of one of the Spanish forts, but she did not mind that any more than if boys were throwing oyster-shells at her.
Out from her guns came a torrent of balls like water from a pump. But the water dropswere made of iron, and hit hard. TheFurorandPlutontried to fire back, but their men could not stand that iron rain. For twenty minutes it kept on, and then all was over with the torpedo-boats. They tried to run ashore, but down to the bottom they both went. Of all their men only about two dozen were picked up alive. The rest sank to the bottom of the bay.
Thus Wainwright and his little yacht avenged theMaine, and the dreadful tragedy in Havana harbor was paid for in Santiago Bay.