CHAPTER VII.
THE GREAT NAVAL COMBAT.
When Terry saw the ugly black ironclad bearing down upon the_Minnesota_, he could not suppress a cry of consternation.
"Oh, whirra! whirra!" he burst forth, dancing from one foot to theother, and swinging his arms about in the extremity of his excitement,"the murderin' thing is coming right for us, and it's smashing us tobits entirely she'll be."
That the captain of the frigate held the same opinion, howeverdifferently he might have expressed it, was soon manifest from themanoeuvring of his ship; for instead of remaining out in the northchannel, where there was sufficient depth of water for the _Merrimac_to move freely, he turned his vessel's bow seaward, and kept on in thatdirection until she had grounded on a shoal about midway betweenFortress Monroe and Newport News Point.
All danger from the irresistible ram was now over, as the ironcladcould not approach within some hundreds of yards without gettingaground herself, which would have put an end to her career; so those onboard the _Minnesota_ began to pluck up courage again. Even Terry feltmore composed when he realized that the "murderin' thing," as he calledit, had to keep a respectful distance.
But they were not permitted to enjoy this little bit of comfort long.The big frigate, towering high above the water, offered only too easy atarget to the rifled guns of the _Merrimac_, and presently theirdestructive missiles began to come crashing through her wooden sides asthough they had been paper, inflicting fearful damage and slaughter.
Yet nothing daunted by the immediate presence of danger and death, themen of the _Minnesota_ plied their own formidable battery; and althoughthe cannon-balls' bounced harmlessly off the impregnable sides of theironclad, they did their work against her attendant gunboats, so thatboth had ere long to retire from the combat.
The decks of the frigate soon presented a pitiable sight. The heavyguns of the _Merrimac_ had again and again raked them with dreadfuleffect, and the dead and the dying lay strewn about, confused withsplintered beams and shattered gun-carriages. The ship's surgeons,recking nothing of their own danger, were busy binding up wounds, andhaving the poor sufferers borne below; while through the smoke-ladenair rang the shouts of those still serving the guns, mingled with thegroans of their comrades writhing in agony.
In the midst of it all was Terry. When the first shot struck thebulwarks of the frigate, and smashing its way through slew threestalwart sailors and badly wounded two others, he threw himself flat onthe deck behind the foremast, completely overcome with sheer horror andfright. There he remained for some minutes, every boom of the cannonsending fresh shudders through his boyish frame.
Presently, amid the occasional pauses in the thunder of the artillery,a moaning cry reached his ear: "Water, water! for God's sake a drop ofwater!" He had heard it several times before, even in his warm freshheart, the impulse to help began to tell upon the paralyzing panic thathad smitten him. But when, for the fourth time, the piteous wailpierced its way to him, "Oh for water! Won't some one bring me water?"he could lie still no longer.
Getting upon his hands and knees--for he did not dare rise to his fullheight--he crept across the deck to where the sufferer lay. He found ayoung sailor, not many years older than himself, dreadfully wounded bya cannon-ball, and suffering agonies from thirst. He was half-hiddenby an overturned gun-carriage, and had been overlooked by the surgeonin the wild confusion.
"Water! water!" he panted, looking at Terry with imploring eyes, for hecould not move a limb. "For the love of God, bring me some water!"
Terry knew well enough where the water-butts were, but to reach themmeant his running the gauntlet of shot and splinter, whose dreadfuleffects lay all about him. Naturally he shrank from the risk, andlooked around in hopes of seeing some of the crew who might undertakeit.
But all who were not already _hors de combat_ had their hands full.Whatever was to be done for the poor young fellow must be done by him.The next wail for water decided him. Bending his head as though hewere facing a snowstorm, he darted across the deck to the water-butts.Right at hand was a pannikin. Hastily filling it, he retraced hissteps, going more slowly now because of his burden, and had just gothalf-way when a heavy ball smashed into the bulwarks at his left,sending out a heavy shower of splinters, one of which struck thepannikin from his hand, spilling its precious contents upon the deck.
It was a hair-breadth escape, and Terry dropped to the deck as thoughhe had been struck. But this was the end of his panic. So soon as herealized that he was untouched, he sprang to his feet again, andshaking his fist in the direction of the _Merrimac_, cried defiantly,"You didn't do it that time. Try it again, will ye? I'll carry thewater in spite of ye!" Then picking up the pannikin he refilled it,and this time succeeded in bearing it safely to the sufferer, who, whenhe had taken a long, deep draught, looked into the boy's face, sayinggratefully,--
"God bless you for that, even if you are a little rebel at heart."
Not until then did Terry recognize in the man he was helping the sailorwhose ire he had aroused by refusing to enter into the ship's service,and his heart glowed at the thought that he had shown him that he couldnot refuse an appeal for aid even from him.
Throughout the rest of that awful afternoon Terry toiled like a beaver,bearing water to the wounded and to those working the guns, and earningcountless blessings from the grateful sailors. He seemed to bear acharmed life. Men fell all round him, while he went unscathed. Againand again the surgeon thanked him for his timely assistance. In spiteof all the peril, he never felt happier in his life. He was completelylifted out of himself, and intoxicated with the joy of whole-souledservice for others.
As the afternoon advanced, the situation of the _Minnesota_ becameincreasingly desperate. Of course, being aground, she could not sink;but the rifled guns of the _Merrimac_ had torn great gaping holes inher high sides. She had lost many of her men, and had once been set onfire. Indeed, her surrender or destruction seemed inevitable, when adiversion took place which postponed either unhappy alternative forthat day at all events.
Besides the _Minnesota_, there were two other Federal frigates lying inHampton Roads, the _Roanoke_ and the _St. Lawrence_, and they likewisehad been run aground for fear of the terrible ram. As if satisfiedwith the damage done to the _Minnesota_, and confident that no escapewas possible for her, the _Merrimac_ now gave attention to her twoconsorts, and proceeded to bombard them with her heavy guns.
They returned broadsides with great spirit, and the cannonade continuedvigorously on both sides, until an ebbing tide and oncoming darknesswarned those in command of the deep-draught ironclad that it was fulltime to be taking her back towards Norfolk. Accordingly she drew off,and after a couple of parting shots from her stern pivot-guns, steamedslowly back to Sewell's Point, where she anchored for the night.
Unspeakable was the relief on board the three frigates at herwithdrawal, and relieved from duty at the guns, their crews at once setto work to repair damages as best they might, knowing full well thatthey had respite only until daylight.
Terry continued his errands of mercy until his help was no longerrequired; then, after getting something to eat, he went up to hisfavourite place in the bow, utterly tired out, and threw himself downto rest.
Here Captain Afleck found him, and together they talked over the eventsof the day. The captain had not been quite so fortunate as Terry,having received a painful, though not serious, scalp wound. He madelight of it, however, and had much to say in praise of his companionfor his brave service as a helper of the wounded.
"You'll be the talk of the town, my boy, when we get back to Halifax,"said he. "Ye've seen more than any lad of your age in the country, Ican tell you; and it's a great story you'll have to tell them atDrummond and Brown's when you take your place there again."
A happy smile lit up Terry's face, so begrimed with powder smoke thatthe multitudinous freckles were no longer distinguishable. He hadquite forgotten Halifax and all belonging to it in the e
xcitement ofthe battle; but Captain Afleck's words brought his thoughts back, andthe idea of his being a kind of hero at Drummond and Brown's, where nowthey probably considered him little better than a rascal, wasexceedingly grateful.
He was just about to say something in reply, when his attention wasclaimed by the wonderful scene now before his eyes; and claspingCaptain Afleck's arm, he exclaimed, in a tone of mingled awe andadmiration, "Just look, will ye, captain! did ye ever see the like ofthat in your life before?"
By this time night had fallen mild and calm. The moon in her secondquarter was just rising over the rippling waters, but her silvery lightfor those on board the _Minnesota_ paled in the presence of thebrilliant illumination proceeding from the burning frigate _Congress_.As the flames crept up the rigging, every mast, spar, and rope flashedout in fiery silhouette against the dark sky beyond. The hull, agroundupon the shoal, was plainly visible, each porthole showing in the blacksides like the mouth of a fiery furnace, while from time to time theboom of a loaded gun, or the crash of an exploded shell, gave startlingemphasis to the superb spectacle.
Having no duty to perform, the captain and Terry could give themselvesup to watching the destruction of the noble vessel, and they stayed atthe bow until presently a monstrous sheaf of flame rose from her to animmense height. The sky seemed rent in twain by a blinding flash, andthen came a loud, deafening report that told the whole story. Theflames had reached the powder-magazine, and their work was complete.
In the silence that followed, Captain Afleck, taking Terry's hand, saidwith a profound sigh, "Come, Terry, let us get to sleep. It breaks myheart to see a fine ship blown to bits like that."
They went below, and finding a quiet corner, threw themselves down toget what rest they could before facing the dangers of another day.
On going on deck the next morning, Terry's attention was at onceattracted by the sailors bending over the bulwarks of the ship,evidently much interested in something that lay alongside. Followingtheir example, he saw below an extraordinary-looking craft, which mightnot inaptly have been compared to a huge tin can set on a giganticshingle.
It was none other than the famous _Monitor_, an even more remarkablevessel than the _Merrimac_, which had come post-haste from New York,and arrived just in time to do battle with the hitherto irresistiblerebel ram.
Little as Terry pretended to know about war-ships, he felt quitecompetent not merely to wonder but to laugh at this latest addition tothe Federal fleet; she seemed so absurdly inadequate to cope with thebig powerful _Merrimac_. A flat iron-plated raft with pointed ends,bearing in the middle a round turret not ten feet high, also platedwith iron, and at the bow a small square iron hut for use as apilot-house; while from the round port-holes in the turret projectedthe muzzles of two eleven-inch rifled guns, which constituted herentire armament. Such was the _Monitor_.
He was still engaged in studying this queer-looking craft, and feelingsorely tempted to ask some questions of the men who were busy about herdecks getting her ready for action, when the crash of a heavy ballagainst the other side of the _Minnesota_ told him that the _Merrimac_had already come over from Sewell's Point to complete her unfinishedwork.
It was also the signal for the _Monitor_ to move out from herhiding-place behind the lofty frigate. Like some strange sea-monster,she swung round the other's stern, and steaming forward so as to comebetween her and her assailant, dauntlessly challenged the latter tosingle combat.
Then there took place right before Terry's eyes a naval conflictwithout parallel in the history of the world, in every respect the mostmomentous battle ever waged upon the water. Of course, Terry did notrealize this, but that did not in any wise lessen the breathlessinterest with which he watched every move and manoeuvre of the struggle.
For the first few minutes there was a pause, as though the twoadversaries were surveying each other with a view of choosing the bestmethod of attack. Then they began to advance cautiously until they hadgot well within range, when almost simultaneously they opened fire.This was at about eight o'clock in the morning, and thenceforward untilnoon the cannonading continued furiously, with hardly any intermission.
The ironclads fought like two gladiators in an arena, now closing in oneach other until they were almost touching, then sheering off untilthey were half-a-mile apart. The _Monitor_ had a great advantage overthe _Merrimac_ in that she drew only half as much water, and wasconsequently able to move about far more freely than her cumbrousopponent, who had to confine herself to the deep-water channel. Evenas it was she once ran aground, and was with the greatest difficultygot afloat again.
Although Terry had come to Hampton Roads a warm little sympathizer withthe South, his feelings had undergone considerable change as heobserved the splendid bravery of the Northern sailors; and now, whilehe watched the contending ironclads, he found his heart going outtowards the little _Monitor_ rather than towards the big black_Merrimac_.
"Sure it doesn't seem fair play at all," he exclaimed to CaptainAfleck, in a decided tone of indignation. "That small little thing'sno match for the big fellow. There ought to be two of them anyhow tomake it even."
But the captain, noting the advantage held by the _Monitor_, and thefact that the bombardment of her antagonist had no more effect upon hercoat of mail than had hers upon the _Merrimac_, shook his headdoubtfully.
"It's a more even fight than you think, Terry," said he, "and I'm notsaying but what I'd be willing to bet on the little one yet. But see,they must be going to try to run her down, like they did the_Cumberland_."
Sure enough, despairing of driving her doughty opponent off the fieldwith broadsides, the _Merrimac_ determined to try the effect of herram. For nearly an hour she had been manoeuvring for a position, andat last an opportunity offered. Putting on full speed, she chargedforcibly down; but just in time the _Monitor_ turned aside, and the ramglanced off without doing any damage.
At seeing this Terry clapped his hands as heartily as if he had been athorough-going Yankee.
"Sold again!" he cried, as the _Merrimac_ sullenly sheered off."You're not so smart after all."
The firing continued for some time longer, and then those on board the_Minnesota_ were startled to see the _Monitor_ coming back towards themwith all the appearance of withdrawing from the fight. The Merrimaccould not follow on account of the shallowness of the water, butremained out in the channel awaiting the other's return. Instead ofreturning, however, the _Monitor_ swung round, and steamed off in thedirection of Fortress Monroe, leaving the helpless _Minnesota_ at themercy of the enemy.
"O Captain Afleck!" cried Terry, in keen alarm, "what will become of usnow? That murderin' thing will smash us all to pieces, seein' there'snothing to hinder it."
The situation of the _Minnesota_ certainly was as serious as it couldwell be. Many of the guns had been rendered useless in the conflict ofthe preceding day. Full half of the crew were killed or wounded, andmost of the officers were unfit for duty. If the _Merrimac_ shouldresume her work of destruction, there was slight chance of any one onboard surviving the catastrophe.
Terry's Trials and Triumphs Page 7