Marcy, the Refugee

  CHAPTER XI.

  MARCY IN ACTION.

  Marcy Gray was somewhat surprised, though not at all abashed, to findhimself treated as an honored guest on board the gunboat. He tookbreakfast with Captain Benton, who did not think it beneath his dignityto acknowledge that he was glad to know he was seventeen hundred dollarsricher than he thought he was, and who listened with the deepestinterest to the boy's account of the various adventures that hadbefallen him since the war broke out. When the story was finished thecaptain believed with his executive officer that it required courage tobe loyal to the old flag in that country.

  Breakfast over, the two stepped into the captain's gig and were taken onboard the _Southfield_ and into the presence of the officer whocommanded the naval part of the expedition. Flag-officer Goldsboroughwas a native of Maryland, but he believed that the South was wrong intrying to break up the Union, that she ought to be compelled to lay downher arms since she would not do it of her own free will, and he wasdoing all a brave and skilful man could to force her to strike thestrange flag she had hoisted in opposition to the Stars and Stripes. Hewas very busy, but he found time to ask Marcy a few questions, and gavehim pencil and paper with which to draw a map of the channel that ledthrough Croatan Sound. When it was done he compared it with another thatlay upon his table, and Marcy learned, from some remarks he exchangedwith Captain Benton, that he was not the only pilot whose services hadbeen secured by force of arms.

  We have spoken of an expedition similar to that of Mr. Watkins, whichleft the fleet the night before, went as far as the mainland and stoppedthere. It was in search of a pilot, and it brought him, too. He was nowon board the flag-ship, from which he was afterward sent to the vesselthat had been ordered to lead in the attack. There was still anotherthat Marcy did not know anything about--a negro boy named Tom, who hadonce called John M. Daniel of Roanoke master. He ran away on the samenight the expedition came into the Sound, and had been taken on boardBurnside's flag-ship. He afterward showed the general the landing atAshby's Harbor, and told him how the troops could be placed therewithout being obliged to wade through the deep marshes at the foot ofthe Island. At the beginning of the war the Confederates did not believethat their own slaves would turn against them and give aid and comfortto the Federals; but the blacks were sharp enough to know who theirfriends were, and the information they were always ready to give was inmost cases found to be reliable.

  "There is one thing I had almost forgotten to speak of, sir," saidCaptain Benton, when the "commodore," as he had been called, intimatedthat he had no more questions to ask. "What shall I do with that manBeardsley, if you please?"

  "I will give you an order to send him off to a store-ship, for of courseyou don't want him aboard of you in action," was the answer. "What willbe done with him after we are through here, I can't say. If he had beentaken with his privateer he might be held as a prisoner of war; but asit is, I presume he will be released after a while, to get into moremischief after he returns within the Confederate lines."

  "But it will put him to some trouble to get back," thought Marcy. "Andthat will be a blessing."

  As soon as the order referred to had been written, Captain Benton andhis pilot took their departure. When the former stepped upon the deck ofhis own vessel the second cutter was called away, and Captain Beardsleywas brought out of the brig to be taken on board the supply ship, wherehe would be out of harm's way during the fight that was soon to begin.He did not yell and struggle now as he did when the irons were firstplaced upon his wrists, for the fear of the gag had taken all thatnonsense out of him. His face was very pale, and he walked with his headdown, and did not appear to notice any of those he passed on his way tothe side. When he saw how utterly dejected and cast down his oldcommander was, Marcy felt heartily sorry that he had said so muchagainst him; but after all he hadn't told more than half the truth. Hehad promised himself that he would shut Beardsley up for a long time ifhe ever got the chance, but now that it was presented, he hadn't theheart to improve it. He did just as he knew his mother would wish him todo under the circumstances--he held his peace; and when the cuttershoved off with him, he hoped that something would happen to keepBeardsley away from Nashville as long as the war continued. Butunfortunately he came back. Marcy had not neglected to bring hisbinoculars with him, and finding himself at liberty after the captainwent below, he walked forward to take a look at things, beingaccompanied by a couple of master's mates, one of whom had been secondin command of Mr. Watkins's expedition, and answered to the name ofPerkins. The Union fleet lay anchored in three parallel lines a shortdistance below the lighthouse, which stood on a dangerous shoal on theright-hand side of the channel, the gunboats being in advance, with theexception of half a dozen or more that had been drawn up on the flanksto protect the transports, in case the enemy began the fight withoutwaiting to be attacked. A short half mile ahead of the fleet were twosmall vessels, the _Ceres_ and the _Putnam_, whose business it was toact as picket-boats and look out for obstructions when the largervessels were ready to move. Straight up the channel, and not more thantwelve or thirteen miles away, were the double rows of piles and sunkenships that must be passed in some manner before the Union vessels couldengage the Confederate squadron, which lay on the other side and closeunder the protecting guns of Fort Huger. His glass showed him that therebels had steam up and were ready for action, and Marcy wondered whythe Union commander wasn't doing something. He said as much to the twoyoung officers who stood by his side, while he was making hisobservations.

  "Wait a while," replied Perkins, with a sly wink at his companion."After you have been in one fight you'll not be in any hurry to get intoanother. I can wait a week or two as well as not."

  "I assure you that I am not spoiling for a fight," answered Marcy. "I'drather not go into one; but since I've got it to do, I wish we might getat it and have it over with." And as he said this he picked up his lefthand, which had been hanging by his side, and placed it in the sling hewore around his neck.

  "Look here, Perk," said the other young officer, when he observed thismovement. "I'll bet you have been giving advice to one who knows morethan you do. Where did you get that hand, pilot, if it is a fairquestion?"

  "My hand is all right, but my arm was broken by one of your shells whileI was running the blockade," replied Marcy, whereupon the youngstersopened their eyes, and looked at him and at each other as though theyfelt the least bit ashamed of themselves.

  "But of course you did not know anything about it, and I don't thinkhard of it if you took me for a greenhorn."

  "I took you for a lad of spirit and courage when Mr. Watkins told me howyou had been living back there in the country," exclaimed Perkins. "Butof course I did not know that you had snuffed powder."

  "I should think that shell would have taken your arm off instead ofbreaking it," observed the other.

  "The shell never came near me, but a heavy splinter that was torn fromour rail made me think I was a goner," replied Marcy. "The man you sawput into the brig, and afterward taken out and sent aboard thestore-ship, was my old captain; and I was acting as pilot of his vesselat the time I was hit. And I am as strong for the Union as anybody inthis squadron. I have a brother on one of these boats, and would likemuch to see him."

  "You don't say?" exclaimed Perkins. "What boat is he on, and whatposition does he hold?"

  "He is a foremast hand on the _Harriet Lane._ I hope he will makehimself known to his commander, for he is the best kind of a pilot forthis coast."

  "I am afraid he will not be of any use to us to-day, and that you willnot shake hands with him this trip," replied Perkins. "That boat is notwith us. She is outside, chasing blockade runners. Hallo! There goes ouranswering pennant. Now, watch the signal from the flag-ship--one, nine,five, second-repeater--Aw, what's the use of my reading off the numberswhen I have no signal-book to translate them for me?"

  "It is '_engage the enemy_' probably," said his companion. "After wehave answered it a few times more, perhaps we w
ill recognize it when wesee it."

  "If that is what the signal means, why don't you go to your stations?"inquired Marcy, as they began walking leisurely toward the waist toleave the forecastle clear for the blue-jackets, who came forward inobedience to a shrill call from the boatswain's whistle, which wasfollowed by the command: "All hands stand by to get ship under way.""You don't seem to be in any haste to do anything, you two."

  "What is the use of being in a hurry to get shot at?" said Perkins."Wait until you hear the call to quarters, and then you will see us getaround lively enough. But we shall not have so very much fighting to doto-day. I heard Mr. Watkins tell the officer of the deck this morningthat this battle will be merely preliminary. When the soldiers get afoothold on the Island you'll see fun, unless the rebels run away."

  "Where is my station in action?" asked Marcy.

  "Close at the old man's side, wherever he happens to be," replied themaster's mate. "And I will tell you, for your consolation, that healways happens to be in the most dangerous place he can find. There heis on the bridge, and perhaps you had better go up to him."

  The bridge was a platform with a railing around it, extending nearlyacross the deck just abaft the wheel-house, and when Marcy mounted theladder that led up to it, he found himself in a position to seeeverything that was going on. The captain was standing there with hishands in his pockets, but he seemed more like a disinterested spectatorthan like a man who was about to take a ship into action, for he had nota word to say to anybody. He wore a canvas bag by his side, suspended bya broad strap that passed over his shoulder; and if Marcy could havelooked into it, he would have found that it contained a small book whosecloth covers were heavily loaded with lead. This was thesignal-book--one of the most important articles in a man-of-war'soutfit. The captain always kept it where he could place his hands uponit at a moment's notice, and if he found that his vessel was in dangerof being captured, he would have thrown it overboard rather than permitit to fall into the hands of the enemy.

  For the first quarter of an hour or so Marcy Gray had nothing to do butkeep out of the way of the captain, who walked back and forth on thebridge so that he could see every part of the deck beneath him by simplyturning his head, and watch the gunboats fall into line one afteranother. The ease and rapidity with which this was done surprised him.The several commanders knew their places and got into them in shortorder, and without in any way interfering with the vessels around them.If the inanimate masses of wood and iron they commanded had beenpossessed of brains and knew what they were expected to do, they couldnot have done it more promptly or with less confusion. It was a fine andinspiriting sight, and Marcy Gray would have walked twenty miles to seeit any day.

  "The flagship is signalling, sir," said a quartermaster who was on thebridge with him and the captain.

  Marcy turned about and saw a long line of different-colored streamerstraveling up the _Southfield's_ main-mast. When it reached the top andthe breeze had carried the flags out at full length so that the captaincould distinguish them, he took down the number they represented on aslip of paper, and turned to the corresponding number in his book to seewhat the signal meant. This he wrote upon a separate piece of paperwhich he held in his hand.

  By the time the vessel was fairly under way several signals had beenmade from the commodore's flag-ship, and finally a rattle was soundedsomewhere below; whereupon the blue-jackets came running from alldirections, but without the least noise or disorder, and took theirstand by the side of the big guns to which they belonged. When thecommand "cast loose and provide" had been obeyed and every man was inhis place, the roll was called by the commanders of the differentdivisions, the sailors responding by giving the names of their stationsthus:

  "George Williams."

  "First captain and second boarder, sir."

  "Walter Dowd."

  "Second loader and first boarder, sir."

  "James Smith."

  "Shotman and pikeman, sir."

  When the roll had been called the various division commanders reportedto the executive officer, who always has charge of the gun-deck inaction, and he approached the bridge on which the captain was standing,saluted with his sword, and said:

  "All present or accounted for, sir."

  "Very good, sir," answered the captain, giving the officer the paper heheld in his hand. "There is what the commodore had to say to us in oneof his signals. Read it to the men."

  Mr. Watkins went back to his station and took off his cap; and instantlythe eye of every sailor on deck was fixed upon him.

  "This signal has just been made from the flag-ship," said Mr. Watkins,holding the paper aloft. "Listen to the reading of it: '_This day ourcountry expects every man to do his duty!_' What have you men to say tothat? Will you show the commodore that you know what your duty is bybeating those fellows up there?"

  The answer was a lusty cheer, in which the officers joined as wildly astheir men. Then cheers began coming from all directions, showing thatthe reading of the signal had had the same effect upon other crews. Whenthe Stars and Stripes, the vessel that was to lead in the attack, wentby to take her station at the head of the line, her men were yelling atthe top of their voices; and when their cheers died away everythingbecame quiet, and the fleet settled down to business.

  The first shot was fired at eleven o'clock. It was from ahundred-pounder on the leading vessel, and was directed against FortBartow. It was the signal for the opening of the contest, and wasquickly followed by such an uproar that Marcy Gray could hardly hearhimself think. He had always thought that a twenty-four pound howitzermade a pretty loud noise, but it was nothing to the deafening andcontinuous roar of the heavy guns that in a moment filled the air allabout him. He thought he ought to be badly frightened, and he expectedto be; but somehow he was not, and neither was he killed by the shellfrom Fort Bartow that struck the water close alongside and exploded, itseemed to him, almost under his feet. He was in full possession of hissenses, and the hand with which he levelled his glass at the Confederatefleet was as steady as he had ever known it to be. He was particularlyinterested in the movements of that fleet, for he was acquainted withsome of the sailors who manned it. As soon as the action was fairlybegun it left its sheltered position under the guns of the fort andsteamed down the channel. Its leading boats came on at such a rate ofspeed that Marcy thought they must know of some opening in the lines ofobstructions, and that they intended to come through and demolish theUnion fleet without aid from the guns on shore; but if that was theirobject they failed to accomplish it. Their heaviest ship, the _Curlew_,was whipped so quickly that her rebel commander must have beenastonished; and so badly crippled was she by the solid shot that crashedthrough her sides, that it was all she could do to haul out of the fightand seek refuge under the guns of the nearest fort. In the end both theship and the fort were blown up together.

  About this time something happened that the young pilot might haveexpected, but which he had never once thought of. The smoke of battlesettled so thickly about his vessel that his eyes were of little use tohim; and, to make matters worse, Captain Benton shouted in his ear:

  "Keep a bright lookout, and if you see us getting into less thanfourteen feet of water, don't fail to let me know it."

  "I declare, I don't know whether there are fourteen or fourteen hundredfeet of water under our keel at this moment!" was the thought thatflashed through Marcy's mind and awoke him to a sense of hisresponsibility. "I don't know where we are." Then aloud he said: "Ican't see a thing from the bridge, Captain. I shall have to go aloft."

  The boy did not know whether or not pilots were in the habit of goingaloft in the heat of action, but he thought it was the proper thing todo under the circumstances. He went, and he did not go any too soon,either; for when he had climbed up where he could see over the thickestof the smoke, he found to his consternation that the vessel was headingdiagonally across the channel far to the eastward of the position inwhich she ought to be, that she would be hard and fast agroun
d if sheheld that course five minutes longer, and that her shells were explodingin the edge of a piece of timber where he could not see any signs of afort or breastwork. It was the work of but a few seconds for Marcy tomake Captain Benton understand the situation, and when the latter hadbrought his ship to her proper course by following the instructions theyoung pilot shouted down to him, he came up and took his stand in thetop by Marcy's side. There they both remained as long as the fightcontinued, and their dinner consisted of a sandwich and a cup of coffee,which the cabin steward brought up to them at noon.

  The first object of the bombardment was accomplished about five o'clockthat afternoon, when a heavy smoke was rolling over Fort Bartow, causedby the burning of the barracks, which had been set on fire by a shellfrom the fleet, the defiant roar of its guns being almost silenced, andits flaunting banner sent to the dust by the shooting away of the staffthat sustained it, and the enemy, all along the line, had been driven sofar back that the transports could come up with the troops. It was atthis juncture that the services of Mr. Daniel's black boy, Tom, cameinto play. He piloted General Burnside's launches and lighters intoAshby's Harbor, and, by midnight, ten thousand soldiers were landed inreadiness for the real battle, which was to begin on the followingmorning. By this time the Confederates must have been satisfied thatthey were going to be whipped. Commodore Lynch knew that he had had allthe fighting he wanted; for he retreated round Wier's Point, and wasnever seen afterward until Captain Rowan, with a portion of the Unionfleet, hunted him up, and finished him at Elizabeth City. The battle wasover shortly after dark (although the firing was kept up at intervalsduring the night), and the leading boats dropped back to allow others totake their places.

  "We are not whipped, are we?" exclaimed Marcy, when he witnessed thisretrograde movement.

  "Oh, no," replied the captain, as he backed down from the top. "We havedone just what we set out to do when we began the fight this morning,and, having won all the honors that rightfully belong to us, we mustfall astern, and let somebody else have a show to-morrow."

  Marcy followed the captain to the deck, and was greatly surprised bywhat he saw when he got there. There were wide openings in thehammock-nettings that he had not seen there in the morning, and theports, through which two of the broadside guns worked, had been torninto one. Some of the standing rigging was not taut and ship-shape, asit ought to have been, but was flying loose in the breeze, and therewere one or two dark spots on the deck which looked as though they hadbeen drenched with water, and afterward sanded. Marcy's heart almoststopped beating when he saw these things, for they told him that thevessel had suffered during the fight, and that some of her crew had beenkilled or wounded, and he never knew it. But the sight of a flag which agray-headed quartermaster was just hauling down from the masthead, drovegloomy thoughts out of his mind, and sent a thrill of triumph allthrough him. It was his own flag, and it had been floating over his headall day long. He took supper with Captain Benton, and afterward wentbelow to see the poor fellows who had not come out of the fight as wellas he did. Two of them were laid in the engine-room, covered with theflag in defense of which they had given up their lives, and four otherswere wounded. The sight was nothing to those that his rebel cousin,Rodney, the Partisan, had often witnessed on the field of battle; but itwas enough to show Marcy Gray that there was a terrible reality in war.

  The next day was the army's. The battle began at seven in the morning;and although the gunboats, Captain Benton's among the rest, did the workthey were expected to do and succeeded in passing the obstructionsshortly after noon, the heaviest of the fighting was done by thesoldiers. The Confederate flag went down before the sun did, andtwenty-five hundred prisoners, forty heavy guns, and three thousandstand of small arms fell into the hands of the victors. The Confederatefleet endeavored to escape by running up the Pasquotank river toElizabeth City, Commodore Lynch thinking no doubt that he would therefind re-enforcements, which could easily have been sent from Portsmouth;but if they were there they did not do him any good, for Captain Rowanfollowed him into the river the next day, and destroyed his entiresquadron with the exception of one boat which was captured andtransferred to the Union fleet. After demolishing a portion of theDismal Swamp canal, Captain Rowan went to Edenton, Winton, and Plymouth,all of which were captured without resistance that amounted to anything,and garrisoned by troops from Burnside's army.

  The historian says that the results of this expedition "in a militarypoint of view, were considerable; but those of a political character didnot answer the expectations of the Federal government." It was believedthat the occupation of these points would not only be the means ofstopping the contraband trade, which was kept up in spite of theblockading fleet, but that it would also "keep in countenance thepartisans of the Union, who were thought to be numerous in NorthCarolina." When the capture of Newbern, Beaufort, and forts Macon andPulaski, which followed close on the heels of the reduction of RoanokeIsland, put all the coast north of Wilmington into the hands of theFederals, blockade running indeed became a dangerous and uncertainbusiness; but Marcy Gray could not see that the native Unionists were inany way benefited. To begin with, General Burnside released all hisprisoners after compelling them to take oath that they would never againserve against the United States. Does any one suppose that the prisonershad any intention of keeping that promise, or that the Confederategovernment would have permitted them to keep it if they had been sodisposed? It is true that some of these rebel soldiers had had quiteenough of the army, and vowed that they would take to the swamps beforethey would enter it again; but it is also true that the most of them,when they returned to their homes, became determined and relentless foesof all Union men. So the conquest of Roanoke Island gave Marcy Gray moreenemies to stand in fear of than he had before; but it had a still worseeffect upon his affairs.

  It was night when the soldiers that were to take possession of Plymouthand garrison the place were sent ashore from the transports. Marcy stoodon the bridge, watching them as they disembarked, and wondering how longit would be before Captain Benton would tell him that his services wereno longer needed and that he might return to his home; and, while hewatched and thought, he discovered a small party of men on shore withbundles in their hands or on their shoulders, and who acted as thoughthey were waiting for a chance to come off to the fleet. He knew, assoon as he looked at them, that they were Union men who were about totake the opportunity thus presented to enlist under the old flag.

  "That is who they are," thought Marcy, after he had kept his binocularspointed at them for a minute or two. "They can't be anything else, forthey are in citizens' clothes. Now, in trying to better their owncondition, are they not making matters worse for their families, if theyhave any? I wonder if I am acquainted with any of them? I will soonknow, for they are heading for this ship."

  The boats belonging to Captain Benton's vessel had been engaged, withall the other boats of the fleet, in taking the soldiers to the shore,and when they placed their last load of bluecoats upon the bank and wereready to return to their ship, they brought the party of which we havespoken off with them. As the leading boat drew nearer to the side, sothat Marcy could obtain a fairer view of the man who sat in thestern-sheets talking to the coxswain, he uttered a cry of surprise andalarm, and almost let his glass fall from his hand. The man was AleckWebster.