Terry's Trials and Triumphs Part 7

It was not until the _Merrimac_ had approached within three-quarters of a mile of the two frigates that the boats were dropped astern, the booms got alongside, and fire opened upon the intruder with the heavy pivot-guns. In this cannonade the batteries on Newport News also joined l.u.s.tily, and the ironclad was the target of many well-aimed cannon.

But although the solid shot were smiting her black sides and the sh.e.l.ls bursting upon her exposed deck, she kept steadily on, in sullen, appalling silence, until within close range of the frigates. Then her forward pivot gun, a heavy seven-inch rifled piece, was fired right into the stern of the _c.u.mberland_, and at almost the same instant the _Congress_ received the starboard broadside, with dreadful damage in both cases.

Terry had never before seen cannon used for any other purpose than the firing of harmless salutes on the Queen's birthday and similar occasions; and although the _Minnesota_ was still some distance from the combat, and taking no part therein, still the almost continuous roar of the cannon, the shrieking of the sh.e.l.ls, and the jets of spray springing up from the water where the b.a.l.l.s ricochetted madly across the waves, made him realize how utterly different were his surroundings now.

His first impulse was to seek the lowest recesses of the hold, and there cower out of reach of cannon-ball and bullet until the firing had ceased. But curiosity got the better of this at the start, and presently there came to its aid that love of battle which is in all manly natures, and he determined to stay on deck and see the fight at any risk.

In his heart he hoped for the success of the Confederate ironclad, ugly and clumsy as she seemed. But he had by this time learned to repress his Southern sympathies, and he strove hard to seem a disinterested spectator.

Captain Afleck was so carried away by the extraordinary and splendid spectacle before him that he forgot all his own troubles, and watched the progress of the conflict with as keen an interest as if in some way his own fate depended upon the issue.

"I tell you what it is, Terry," said he exultantly: "this is a great bit of luck for us. Won't we have a fine story to tell when we get back to Halifax?"

"That we will, captain," responded Terry--"providin' we do get back.

But I'm thinkin' there's some chance of our gettin' smashed ourselves by one of these murderin' cannon-b.a.l.l.s that go skippin' about so lively. Just look at that, will you, captain?"

The _Congress_ had returned the broadside of the ironclad, and although the range was close, only half the iron missiles had hit the mark, the others playing a game of hop-skip-and-jump across the water, and sending up the spray in snow-white spurts.

"It's fine, Terry, isn't it?" said the captain. Then with a quick change of tone he exclaimed, as he grasped the boy's arm in his excitement, "But look there, Terry; what can that queer black thing be up to now? Does she think she can run that fine big frigate down, like this ship did us in Boston Harbour?"

The tone of incredulous surprise was as marked in Captain Afleck's voice as if the ironclad had seemed to be making preparations to fly; yet he had only too correctly guessed the meaning of her next movement.

Indeed, before he finished speaking, it was manifest to all; for after exchanging broadsides with the _Congress_, the _Merrimac_, paying no heed to the land batteries that were vainly peppering her iron sides with harmless b.a.l.l.s, made straight for the _c.u.mberland_ at the top of her speed, and struck her almost at right angles under the fore-rigging on the starboard side, the heavy iron prow crashing through the wooden sides as though they had been pasteboard, and making a great gaping hole wide enough to admit a horse and cart.

A simultaneous shout of amazement, anger, and dismay went up from the crowded deck of the _Minnesota_ at this startling and horrifying manoeuvre, and in breathless suspense all watched the stricken ship as her a.s.sailant withdrew a s.p.a.ce and headed up the river, apparently content with her terrific onslaught.

For a few minutes the _c.u.mberland_ showed no signs of disablement, her guns continuing to be fired with a regularity that spoke volumes for the splendid fort.i.tude of her officers and men.

"She's not done for yet," cried one of the _Minnesota's_ lieutenants exultingly. "That rebel brute will have to try again."

He had hardly spoken when the _c.u.mberland_ listed badly over to port and began to fill. Down sank the gallant ship, driving her crew to the spar-deck, where they dauntlessly continued to work the pivot-gun, until, with a wild swaying of her tall masts and a sickening shudder of her shattered frame, she plunged beneath the waves, carrying her brave defenders down to an honourable death, yet leaving the Union colours still floating defiantly from her topmast, which projected high above the swirling water.

For the first moment after her disappearance there was an appalling silence on board the _Minnesota_, and then there broke forth a wild storm of groans, cheers, and curses, as the feelings of her crew found expression. They had witnessed a catastrophe without a parallel in the history of naval warfare. Never before had the tremendous power for harm of the ironclad ram been displayed, and by that one blow the _Merrimac_ had put out of date the navies of the world as then constructed.

Of course Terry neither knew nor cared anything about this; but he could not help being profoundly impressed by the magnitude of the disaster, and his warm Irish heart went out in sympathy towards the gallant men who had stood by their ship to the last moment. In his admiration of their bravery he quite forgot his preference for their victorious opponents.

"O captain," he exclaimed, in a tone of deepest concern, plucking at his companion's arm, "will you look at the poor creatures? Sure they're doing their best to swim ash.o.r.e, and it's a long way for them too."

His sharp eyes had discovered little bits of black bobbing on the waves, which he took to be the heads of men swimming hard for the beach at Newport News, and the lieutenant's gla.s.s confirmed the accuracy of his vision.

"Wouldn't I like to be giving them a hand!" he continued, jumping up and down in the heat of his excitement. He felt so thoroughly at home in the water, that he would not have hesitated a moment at any time to go to the rescue of a full-grown man, and he would have thoroughly enjoyed now going to the relief of the struggling sailors.

But the men of the _Minnesota_ had other work on hand than giving aid to their imperilled countrymen. For aught they knew the ironclad would next be trying her terrible ram on them, and they had need to prepare for her onset.

Having disposed of the ill-fated _c.u.mberland_, the _Merrimac_ now gave her whole attention to the _Congress_, whose commander, realizing the impossibility of resisting the a.s.sault of the ram, had, with notable presence of mind, slipped his cables and run his ship aground upon the shallows, where the deep-draught ironclad could not follow her except with cannon-b.a.l.l.s.

Although the _Congress_ had four times as many guns as the _Merrimac_, and was well supported besides by the land batteries on Newport News, it was an unequal contest; for while the projectiles showered upon the ironclad glanced harmlessly off her cannon-proof walls, her powerful rifled guns raked the _Congress_ from end to end with terrible effect.

There could be only one termination to such a struggle. Gallantly as the Northern sailors served their guns, their commander presently was killed, and her decks were strewn with dead and dying. At the end of an hour her colours came down, and white flags appeared at the gaff and mainmast in token of surrender.

Meanwhile the _Merrimac_ had been joined by a number of smaller vessels that had come down the James River after running in gallant style the gauntlet of the Federal batteries which lined the northern bank. They were only gunboats carrying ten guns at the most, and could not take any prominent part in the battle, but they now proved useful in completing the work of the ironclad.

Two of them steamed alongside the shattered _Congress_, to make prisoners of the crew and set fire to the ship. But they were unable to accomplish either of these duties owing to the heavy fire kept up by the land batteries, and had to beat a retreat; whereupon the _Merrimac_ sent hot shot into the frigate, that soon had her blazing fore and aft, while her crew escaped on sh.o.r.e either by swimming or in small boats.

All this was watched with keen anxiety on board the _Minnesota_, and the question her men asked themselves was,--

"Will the _Merrimac_ be content with the damage she has already done, or will our ship share the same fate as the other two?"

They were not left long in uncertainty. Swinging slowly around, the huge ironclad, after pausing a few minutes as though to take breath, came down the channel heading straight for the _Minnesota_. Her day's work was evidently not yet done. She must have another victim before returning to her moorings.

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 the other, and swinging his arms about in the extremity of his excitement, "the murderin' thing is coming right for us, and it's smashing us to bits entirely she'll be."

That the captain of the frigate held the same opinion, however differently he might have expressed it, was soon manifest from the manoeuvring of his ship; for instead of remaining out in the north channel, where there was sufficient depth of water for the _Merrimac_ to move freely, he turned his vessel's bow seaward, and kept on in that direction until she had grounded on a shoal about midway between Fortress Monroe and Newport News Point.

All danger from the irresistible ram was now over, as the ironclad could not approach within some hundreds of yards without getting aground herself, which would have put an end to her career; so those on board the _Minnesota_ began to pluck up courage again. Even Terry felt more composed when he realized that the "murderin' thing," as he called it, 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 a target to the rifled guns of the _Merrimac_, and presently their destructive missiles began to come crashing through her wooden sides as though they had been paper, inflicting fearful damage and slaughter.

Yet nothing daunted by the immediate presence of danger and death, the men of the _Minnesota_ plied their own formidable battery; and although the cannon-b.a.l.l.s' bounced harmlessly off the impregnable sides of the ironclad, they did their work against her attendant gunboats, so that both had ere long to retire from the combat.

The decks of the frigate soon presented a pitiable sight. The heavy guns of the _Merrimac_ had again and again raked them with dreadful effect, and the dead and the dying lay strewn about, confused with splintered beams and shattered gun-carriages. The ship's surgeons, recking nothing of their own danger, were busy binding up wounds, and having the poor sufferers borne below; while through the smoke-laden air rang the shouts of those still serving the guns, mingled with the groans of their comrades writhing in agony.

In the midst of it all was Terry. When the first shot struck the bulwarks of the frigate, and smashing its way through slew three stalwart sailors and badly wounded two others, he threw himself flat on the deck behind the foremast, completely overcome with sheer horror and fright. There he remained for some minutes, every boom of the cannon sending 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 G.o.d's sake a drop of water!" He had heard it several times before, even in his warm fresh heart, the impulse to help began to tell upon the paralyzing panic that had smitten him. But when, for the fourth time, the piteous wail pierced 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 full height--he crept across the deck to where the sufferer lay. He found a young sailor, not many years older than himself, dreadfully wounded by a cannon-ball, and suffering agonies from thirst. He was half-hidden by an overturned gun-carriage, and had been overlooked by the surgeon in the wild confusion.

"Water! water!" he panted, looking at Terry with imploring eyes, for he could not move a limb. "For the love of G.o.d, bring me some water!"

Terry knew well enough where the water-b.u.t.ts were, but to reach them meant his running the gauntlet of shot and splinter, whose dreadful effects lay all about him. Naturally he shrank from the risk, and looked around in hopes of seeing some of the crew who might undertake it.

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 he were facing a snowstorm, he darted across the deck to the water-b.u.t.ts.

Right at hand was a pannikin. Hastily filling it, he retraced his steps, going more slowly now because of his burden, and had just got half-way when a heavy ball smashed into the bulwarks at his left, sending out a heavy shower of splinters, one of which struck the pannikin from his hand, spilling its precious contents upon the deck.

It was a hair-breadth escape, and Terry dropped to the deck as though he had been struck. But this was the end of his panic. So soon as he realized that he was untouched, he sprang to his feet again, and shaking 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 the water in spite of ye!" Then picking up the pannikin he refilled it, and this time succeeded in bearing it safely to the sufferer, who, when he had taken a long, deep draught, looked into the boy's face, saying gratefully,--