by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN THE HOSPITAL.
Under the arrangement made by Admiral Farragut with the commander ofFort Morgan, the wounded of both sides were sent in the Metacomet toPensacola. Somers was of the number, and he was borne from his berth inthe Chatauqua to the steamer, though the removal caused him great pain.The numbness of his side was beginning to pass away, and the parts tobecome very sensitive.
"Mr. Somers, I am sorry to see you in this condition," said "Brave OldSalt," who was present with a kind word for the suffering heroes of thebattle. "You behaved nobly during the fight, as I am told you alwaysdo."
"Thank you, sir. You are very kind," moaned Somers, in his pain andweakness.
"I have not forgotten you, my brave fellow," continued the admiral. "Thecapture of the Ben Lomond was a matter of more consequence than you canappreciate, perhaps; and your faith and skill in doing this work entitleyou to the gratitude of your country."
"I am happy in having merited your approbation."
"You have behaved gallantly in the action; and, I repeat, you shall beremembered. What can I do for you, Mr. Somers?"
"Nothing more for me, admiral. You have done more for me now than Ideserve. Mr. Longstone, the boatswain of the Chatauqua, who saved mylife--"
"I know all about him, Mr. Somers. He was your right-hand man in thecapture of the Ben Lomond."
"He was, sir."
"He shall not be forgotten."
"I have already been rewarded more than I deserve--"
"No, you haven't. Mr. Pillgrim promised you a lieutenant's commission,if you brought out his steamer. I ratify that promise. As to theboatswain, it is a pity he is not an educated man; but he shall be caredfor."
"Thank you, sir."
But Somers was too faint to talk any longer, and the admiral passed toother of the noble fellows who had been wounded on that eventful day.The sufferer's cot was placed on the ward-room floor, for thestate-rooms and berths were already full. In one of them lay AdmiralBuchanan, who had commanded the rebel fleet. He had been wounded in theleg in the battle, and he had lost the battle itself, which, to a proud,brave spirit, was worse than losing a leg.
Somers was now suffering the most intense pain, which he bore like ahero. Tom Longstone bent tenderly over him, his eyes filled with tears,and uttered his adieus. With a hand as gentle as a woman's, he pillowedhis head on the couch, and smoothed back his hair from his eyes. Hewould gladly have gone with his wounded friend, to lave his fevered browand speak words of comfort and encouragement to him; but neither of themthought of such a thing, for the admiral's fleet was in the enemy'swaters, and every man was needed at his post.
The Metacomet, having received her precious freight of mangled heroes,cast off her moorings, and, passing the fort, turned her prow to theeastward. On her arrival at Pensacola, the sufferers were transferred tothe hospital, where they received every attention which willing handsand generous hearts could bestow.
Fort Morgan surrendered to the combined forces of the army and navybefore the end of the month, and Mobile Bay was in undisputed possessionof the government. The work undertaken by the brave admiral had beenfully completed. Mobile was now a cipher, so far as the Confederacy wasconcerned, though a great bluster was made of defending it to the last.
Somers had been three weeks in the hospital, and doubtless owed his lifeto the skill of the surgeon and the attentions of the nurses. He hadbeen injured internally, as Dr. De Plesion feared; but he had begun toimprove, though he was still unable to sit up. He had endured theseverest pain, and the doctor had not concealed from him his fears of afatal result, because the patience and firmness, but especially thereligious faith, of the sufferer warranted him in doing so.
Day after day and night after night Somers struggled with his condition,in faith, patience, and resignation. He felt that he was ready to leavethe world, full of joys and hopes as it was, for the purer hopes andbrighter joys of the eternal world beyond the grave. He thought of hismother, and wished that she might be with him to smooth his dyingpillow, if he must die; but it was not the will of God, and he did notmurmur. He thought of Kate Portington. He would like to see her oncemore before he passed away, but this was a vain wish; and from her andthe loved ones at home he turned to the glorious realities of theimmortal life--fitting theme for one who was trembling between life anddeath.
In the midst of his pain and earthly loneliness he was happy. He couldnot but recall the scene of Phil Kennedy's death-bed; of the agony ofremorse which shook him, as he looked back upon his past life; of theterrors with which his stricken conscience invested the grave. Then thesufferer, in the deepest depths of his heart, thanked God that he hadbeen enabled to be true to himself and to duty. He was happy in thepast, happy in the hope of the future. There was much to regret and torepent of; but as he did regret and repent, he felt that he wasforgiven.
He was happy; and the joy of that hour, when an approving consciencetriumphs over bodily pain, and decks the waiting tomb with flowers, wasworth the struggle with the legions of temptations which all mustencounter.
We are best fitted to live when best prepared to die. Somers waited withhope and resignation for the angel of death, but he came not. The verycalmness with which he regarded the open tomb, assisted in closing itsportals to him. At the end of two weeks the doctor spoke more of lifethan of death; at the end of three he spoke not at all of the grimmessenger--grim he was, even when he wore the chaplet of flowers withwhich Faith and Hope ever crown him.
Somers was out of danger. The internal inflammation passed away, and thepatient began to mend. He thought of life now, of meeting the loved oneswho, afar off, had sadly spoken farewells to him when he departed fromtheir presence, with all the fearful perils of storm and battle hangingover him.
On the day after the news of the surrender of Fort Morgan arrived, theChatauqua dropped her anchor off Pensacola. A boat immediately put offfrom her, containing Boatswain Longstone, who landed, and hastened tothe hospital with all possible speed. Probably there had hardly been anhour since the Metacomet left Mobile Bay with the wounded, in which Tomhad not thought of Somers. The old man was as eager and impatient as achild, and could hardly submit to the formalities necessary to procureadmission to the hospital.
"My darling!" exclaimed the veteran, as he crept up to the bed of hisyoung friend.
He walked lightly, and spoke softly and tenderly, for he knew how sickSomers had been.
"Ah, Tom, I am glad to see you," replied the patient, as he extended histhin hand, which the boatswain eagerly seized, though he handled it astenderly as a bashful youth does the hand of the maiden he loves. "Itdoes my eyes good to look upon you, Tom."
"Jack, I've been dying to see you. They told me you were in a bad way,and might slip your cable any moment."
"I have not expected to live, until a week ago."
"God bless you, Jack! I was never so happy in my life;" and theboatswain actually wept,--great, strong, weather-stained veteran as hewas, who had breasted the storms of four and thirty years on the ocean.
"I know how you feel, Tom."
"So you may, Jack,--I beg pardon, Mr.--"
"Call me Jack, now," interposed Somers, with a faint smile; "it soundslike old times. You have been the making of me, Tom, and we won't standon ceremony, as long as we are not on board the ship."
The boatswain still held the attenuated hand of his sick friend, andthey talked of the past and of the present; of the battle, and of thesubsequent events in the bay. But Tom Longstone seemed to be thinkingall the time of something else.
"What have you got on, Tom?" asked Somers, as he noticed a "foul anchor"on his shoulder, and a band of gold lace on his sleeve.
"What have I got on? Why, I always wear my colors, of course," repliedTom, with a smile of the deepest satisfaction.
"But those are not the colors of a boatswain in the United States Navy."
"That's a fact, Jack. I'm not a boatswain, just now."
"Indeed!"
> "I'm an acting ensign."
"Is it possible?" exclaimed Somers, not less pleased than the veteran.
"It's a fact, my darling; but before we spin any more yarns, here's adocument for you. Shall I open it?" continued Tom, as he took from hisbreast pocket a huge official envelope, whose appearance was entirelyfamiliar to Somers.
"If you please."
It was directed to "Lieutenant John Somers;" and the superscriptionsufficiently indicated the nature of its contents.
"God bless the admiral!" said Somers.
"God bless the admiral!" repeated Tom, glancing reverently upward as hespoke.
The commission was dated before the news of the battle in Mobile Baycould have reached Washington. It followed the reception of thedespatches concerning the capture of the Ben Lomond; and Tom Longstonehad been made an acting ensign, though he still retained his warrant asa boatswain, for his conduct in the same affair.
"I congratulate you, Tom, on this promotion," said Somers.
"Thank you, Jack; and I congratulate you as Lieutenant Somers. You are a'regular,' but I'm only an 'acting,'" replied the veteran. "When thewar's over, I shall be a boatswain again."
"I am more rejoiced for you than for myself, Tom."
"Just like you, Jack. If I made you, I'm sure you made me. I got myrating as boatswain's mate in the Rosalie through you, and then I wasmade a boatswain for what I did with you. Now I'm an ensign by yourdoings. I suppose you think I'm not up to it, Jack."
"Yes, I do. I know you are. There's nothing about a ship that you don'tknow as well as the admiral himself, except--"
"Except," laughed Tom, as Somers paused, "except what?"
"Navigation."
"I know something about that, Jack--I do, upon my honor."
"I do not doubt it."
"When I first went into the navy, I was a regular sea dandy. I used bigwords, as long as the coach-whip; but I soon found a man must not talkabove his station. When I was a young man, I wasn't a bad scholar. Iwent to the academy, and learned surveying; I meant to be a surveyor;but I got a hitch, and went to sea."
"A hitch?"
"Well, I never mention it now. Squire Kent's daughter didn't treat me ashandsomely as she did another young fellow, and I drank more liquor thanwas good for me. I got run down; and when I had payed out all therespectability I had, I went to sea. That cured me of drinking; in fact,I became a temperance man before the grog rations were stopped in thenavy. As I said, I was pretty well educated, and talked as well as theofficers on the quarter deck. But my shipmates laughed at me, and I soondropped down into using sea slang."
"I have noticed that your speech has been wonderfully improved since youwere made a boatswain."
"I've been trying to cure my bad habits. I've been lying round loose inthe navy for thirty years before the war began. I tried to be honest andtrue, but the war has set me right up. I haven't told you the best ofthe news yet, Jack."
"What more?"
"You are appointed to the Ben Lomond as prize master, and I'm going withyou as second officer. The admiral says you shall take the prize home,if she has to wait two months for you. She is yours, and you shall havethe command of her."
"He is very kind; but I do not think I shall be able to take command atpresent."
"We are to go as soon as the doctor will let you be carried on board ofher. Jack, the Ben Lomond is going into the navy; and if I mistake not,she will be in command of Lieutenant Somers."
"That would be the height of my ambition. Indeed, I never aspired toanything so great as the command of a fine steamer."
"You'll have her; the admiral is your friend. If you do, I shall be inthe ward-room. Splinter my timber-heads! Only think of that! TomLongstone a ward-room officer!"
"You deserve it, Tom."
In the course of the week, other officers of the Chatauqua visited thepatient, and at the end of that period the doctor permitted Somers to beconveyed on board the Ben Lomond.