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A Little Traitor to the South

Page 10

by Cyrus Townsend Brady


  CHAPTER VIII

  DEATH OUT OF THE DEEP

  At 8.30 that night, February 17, 1864, the little torpedo boat, afterhaving successfully passed the monitors and ironclads anchored just outof range of Fort Sumter, and inside the shoals at the harbor mouth, wasstopped about a mile from the outer entrance of the Main Ship Channel,where her quarry had been reported as lying quietly at anchor atnightfall. Success had attended the efforts of her devoted crew so far.By Lacy's command the _David_ was stopped in order to give a littlerest, a breathing space, before the last dash at their prey, to theweary seamen who had driven her steadily on since leaving the wharf.

  The night was calm and very still. The hatch covers were thrown back,the tired men thrust their heads into the cool, sweet air, sorefreshing after the closeness of their badly ventilated vessel, andwetted their fevered, exhausted bodies with the stimulating water ofthe bay. The artillery officer took advantage of the opportunity tomake a careful reexamination of the torpedo, and Lacy was greatlyrelieved when he reported that he had everything in good working order,so far as he was able to judge. The young commander of the expeditionwas the more anxious for success because of the previous failures ofsimilar endeavors. After a ten-minute rest he gave the order to getunder way.

  "Men," he said coolly, "you know the history of this boat. There's achance, ay, more than a chance, that none of us will ever come backfrom this expedition. You knew all that when you volunteered. If we doget out alive, our country will reward us. If we do not, she will notforget us. Shake hands, now. Good-by, and God bless you. Put everypound of muscle you have into that crank when we get within one hundredyards of the frigate, and jump the boat into her. I'll give the signal.I want to strike her hard."

  "Ay, ay, sir," replied the seamen as cheerfully as if there was only afrolic before them. "We'll do our best. Good-by, and God bless you,sir. We're proud to serve under you whatever comes."

  "Thank you. All ready with the torpedo, Captain?"

  "Yes, Major Lacy."

  "Good! Down everybody, now! Clap to the hatch covers and start thecranks. Easy at first, and when I give the word--hard!"

  He seized the spokes of the steering wheel in his steady hands as hespoke. Back of him, to relieve him in case of accident, stood CaptainCarlson, the artillery officer. The heavy planks were drawn over theopen hatch, locked, and bolted. Silently the men manned the cranks. Thelittle engine of destruction gathered way. It was pitch dark, and veryclose and hot. There was no sound in the shell save the slight creakingof the cranks and the deep breathing of the crew as they toiled overthem.

  Forward by the wheel there was a glass hood, which permitted the menwho steered to direct the course of the boat. As the sinister sea demonstole through the waters, Lacy caught a sudden glimpse at last of thespars of a heavy ship at anchor before him. The night had clearedsomewhat, and although there was no moon, the stars gave sufficientlight for him to see the black tracery of masts and yards liftingthemselves above the horizon.

  How still the looming ship lay. There was scarcely sea enough totremble the top-hamper of the unsuspecting man-of-war. A faint film ofsmoke falling lazily from her funnel in the quiet air, with her ridingand side-lights, were the only signs of life about her. No morepeaceful-looking object floated over the ocean apparently.

  "It would be a pity," reflected the man at the wheel for an instant,"to strike her so." But the thought vanished so soon as it had beenformulated. His heart leaped in his breast like the hound when helaunches himself in that last spring which hurls him on his quarry.Another moment--a few more seconds--

  "That will be our game," whispered Lacy to the artillery captain, in avoice in which his feelings spoke.

  "Yes."

  They were slowly approaching nearer. The bearings of the cranks andscrews had been well oiled, and the _David_ slipped through the waterwithout a sound. She was so nearly submerged that she scarcely rippledthe surface of the sea. There was no white line of foam to betray hermovement through the black water. It was almost impossible for any oneto detect the approach of the silent terror. There was nothing showingabove water except the flat hatch cover, and that to an unpractised eyelooked much like a drifting plank.

  Yet there were sharp eyes on the ship, and no negligent watch was kepteither. When the _David_ was perhaps two hundred feet away, she wasseen. The steadiness of her movement proclaimed a thing intelligentlydriven.

  A sharp, sudden cry from the forecastle ahead of them rang through thenight. It was so loud and so fraught with alarm that it came in amuffled note to the men in the depths of the torpedo boat. A bugle callrang out, a drum was beaten. The erstwhile silent ship was filled withtumult and clamor.

  "They have seen us!" said Lacy. "Ahead!" he cried, hoarsely. "Hard!"

  At the same instant the chain cable of the vessel was slipped, bellsjangled in her depths, the mighty engines clanked into sudden motion,the screws revolved, and she began slowly to drive astern. But it wastoo late, the sea devil was too near to be balked of the prey. The menat the cranks of the _David_, working with superhuman energy, fairlyhurled the torpedo boat upon the doomed ship. Lacy had time for asingle upward glance--his last look at anything! The black railingtowering above his head was swarming with men. Flashes of lightpunctured the darkness. Bullets pattered like rain on the iron. One ortwo tore through the flimsy shell. A jet of water struck him in theface.

  The next second there was a terrific concussion. The torpedo struck theship just forward the mainmast and exploded, tearing a great hole inthe side, extending far below the water-line. In the blaze of lightthat followed, the men in the _David_ cheered wildly, and the nextmoment blackness overwhelmed them.

  On the frigate there was the wildest confusion as the sleeping menbelow came swarming up on deck. Some of them never succeeded inreaching the hatchways and were drowned where they slept. Some werekilled by the explosion. The officers, however, quickly restored order,and as a last resort ordered the surviving men into the rigging, forthe water where she lay was shallow, and there they could find safety.

  The ship was hopelessly lost. Indeed, she began to sink so soon as thetorpedo exploded. The water poured into her vitals, and soon the crashof exploding boilers and the hiss of escaping steam added their quotato the confusion.

  Some of the cooler among the officers and men lingered on the decks,small arms in hand, searching the sea on every hand, until the deckswere awash. They were looking and hoping for a chance at the boat whichhad caused them such a terrible disaster, but they never saw her. Shehad disappeared.

  Signals had been burned instantly on the shattered ship. Far up anddown the line the lights of moving vessels burning answering signalsshowed that they were alert to render assistance. Boats, ships'cutters, dashed alongside to render help, and they, too, sought thetorpedo boat, but in vain. She was not to be found.

  At the same time the ships of the fleet did not move from theirappointed stations, and when the blockade-runners came dashing downthrough the Swash Channel in the hope that the vessels usuallystationed there would be withdrawn in the excitement, they were met bya deadly fire from the rifled guns, which rendered it impossible forthem to proceed. They turned tail and fled. Two of them succeeded inreturning to the harbor. One of them never came back. She was set onfire and burned by the shells of the ships. The monitors and ironcladsjoined in the battle, the forts returned the fire, and the quiet nightwas filled with the noise of roaring cannon and exploding shell.

  Lacy's had been a gallant and heroic attempt. It had succeeded as tothe blowing up of a Federal warship, but it had failed otherwise. By asingular freak of fortune the blow had not fallen upon the vessel forwhich it had been intended. After dark the fine new sloop-of-war_Housatonic_ had replaced the _Wabash_ off the Main Ship Channel, andshe had suffered instead of the flagship.

  Although when day broke she was sought for again, nothing more was seenof the _David_. At least not then. With the explosion of the torpedoshe had vanished from the face of the waters. Fo
r a long time GeneralBeauregard and the people in Charleston waited for tidings of her, butit was not until the war was over and the _Housatonic_ was raised thatthe mystery was solved. They found the torpedo boat with her nosepointed toward the hole she had torn in the side of the ship, about ahundred feet away from the wrecked sloop-of-war. She had been riddledwith bullets and shattered by the explosion of her own torpedo. Shewas, of course, filled with water, and in her, at their stations, theyfound the bodies of her devoted crew, Lacy with his hand on the wheel.

  Nothing in life had so become Lacy as the ending of it. It is a proverbthat the good men do lies buried with them, the evil is longremembered. It was not so in his case, at any rate, for men forgoteverything but the dauntless heroism with which he had laid down hislife for his country, and assured his fame.

  And, after all, he was not to be pitied for that he died the death ofhis choice.

 

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