Terry's Trials and Triumphs Part 8

"G.o.d 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 sailor whose 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 could not 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 earning countless blessings from the grateful sailors. He seemed to bear a charmed life. Men fell all round him, while he went unscathed. Again and again the surgeon thanked him for his timely a.s.sistance. In spite of all the peril, he never felt happier in his life. He was completely lifted out of himself, and intoxicated with the joy of whole-souled service for others.

As the afternoon advanced, the situation of the _Minnesota_ became increasingly desperate. Of course, being aground, she could not sink; but the rifled guns of the _Merrimac_ had torn great gaping holes in her high sides. She had lost many of her men, and had once been set on fire. Indeed, her surrender or destruction seemed inevitable, when a diversion took place which postponed either unhappy alternative for that day at all events.

Besides the _Minnesota_, there were two other Federal frigates lying in Hampton Roads, the _Roanoke_ and the _St. Lawrence_, and they likewise had been run aground for fear of the terrible ram. As if satisfied with the damage done to the _Minnesota_, and confident that no escape was possible for her, the _Merrimac_ now gave attention to her two consorts, and proceeded to bombard them with her heavy guns.

They returned broadsides with great spirit, and the cannonade continued vigorously on both sides, until an ebbing tide and oncoming darkness warned those in command of the deep-draught ironclad that it was full time to be taking her back towards Norfolk. Accordingly she drew off, and after a couple of parting shots from her stern pivot-guns, steamed slowly back to Sewell's Point, where she anch.o.r.ed for the night.

Unspeakable was the relief on board the three frigates at her withdrawal, and relieved from duty at the guns, their crews at once set to work to repair damages as best they might, knowing full well that they had respite only until daylight.

Terry continued his errands of mercy until his help was no longer required; then, after getting something to eat, he went up to his favourite place in the bow, utterly tired out, and threw himself down to rest.

Here Captain Afleck found him, and together they talked over the events of the day. The captain had not been quite so fortunate as Terry, having received a painful, though not serious, scalp wound. He made light of it, however, and had much to say in praise of his companion for 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, I can tell you; and it's a great story you'll have to tell them at Drummond and Brown's when you take your place there again."

A happy smile lit up Terry's face, so begrimed with powder smoke that the mult.i.tudinous freckles were no longer distinguishable. He had quite forgotten Halifax and all belonging to it in the excitement of the battle; but Captain Afleck's words brought his thoughts back, and the idea of his being a kind of hero at Drummond and Brown's, where now they probably considered him little better than a rascal, was exceedingly grateful.

He was just about to say something in reply, when his attention was claimed by the wonderful scene now before his eyes; and clasping Captain Afleck's arm, he exclaimed, in a tone of mingled awe and admiration, "Just look, will ye, captain! did ye ever see the like of that in your life before?"

By this time night had fallen mild and calm. The moon in her second quarter was just rising over the rippling waters, but her silvery light for those on board the _Minnesota_ paled in the presence of the brilliant illumination proceeding from the burning frigate _Congress_.

As the flames crept up the rigging, every mast, spar, and rope flashed out in fiery silhouette against the dark sky beyond. The hull, aground upon the shoal, was plainly visible, each porthole showing in the black sides like the mouth of a fiery furnace, while from time to time the boom of a loaded gun, or the crash of an exploded sh.e.l.l, gave startling emphasis to the superb spectacle.

Having no duty to perform, the captain and Terry could give themselves up to watching the destruction of the n.o.ble vessel, and they stayed at the bow until presently a monstrous sheaf of flame rose from her to an immense height. The sky seemed rent in twain by a blinding flash, and then came a loud, deafening report that told the whole story. The flames had reached the powder-magazine, and their work was complete.

In the silence that followed, Captain Afleck, taking Terry's hand, said with a profound sigh, "Come, Terry, let us get to sleep. It breaks my heart to see a fine ship blown to bits like that."

They went below, and finding a quiet corner, threw themselves down to get what rest they could before facing the dangers of another day.

On going on deck the next morning, Terry's attention was at once attracted by the sailors bending over the bulwarks of the ship, evidently much interested in something that lay alongside. Following their example, he saw below an extraordinary-looking craft, which might not inaptly have been compared to a huge tin can set on a gigantic shingle.

It was none other than the famous _Monitor_, an even more remarkable vessel than the _Merrimac_, which had come post-haste from New York, and arrived just in time to do battle with the hitherto irresistible rebel ram.

Little as Terry pretended to know about war-ships, he felt quite competent not merely to wonder but to laugh at this latest addition to the Federal fleet; she seemed so absurdly inadequate to cope with the big powerful _Merrimac_. A flat iron-plated raft with pointed ends, bearing in the middle a round turret not ten feet high, also plated with iron, and at the bow a small square iron hut for use as a pilot-house; while from the round port-holes in the turret projected the muzzles of two eleven-inch rifled guns, which const.i.tuted her entire armament. Such was the _Monitor_.

He was still engaged in studying this queer-looking craft, and feeling sorely tempted to ask some questions of the men who were busy about her decks getting her ready for action, when the crash of a heavy ball against the other side of the _Minnesota_ told him that the _Merrimac_ had already come over from Sewell's Point to complete her unfinished work.

It was also the signal for the _Monitor_ to move out from her hiding-place behind the lofty frigate. Like some strange sea-monster, she swung round the other's stern, and steaming forward so as to come between her and her a.s.sailant, dauntlessly challenged the latter to single combat.

Then there took place right before Terry's eyes a naval conflict without parallel in the history of the world, in every respect the most momentous battle ever waged upon the water. Of course, Terry did not realize this, but that did not in any wise lessen the breathless interest with which he watched every move and manoeuvre of the struggle.

For the first few minutes there was a pause, as though the two adversaries were surveying each other with a view of choosing the best method of attack. Then they began to advance cautiously until they had got well within range, when almost simultaneously they opened fire.

This was at about eight o'clock in the morning, and thenceforward until noon the cannonading continued furiously, with hardly any intermission.

The ironclads fought like two gladiators in an arena, now closing in on each other until they were almost touching, then sheering off until they were half-a-mile apart. The _Monitor_ had a great advantage over the _Merrimac_ in that she drew only half as much water, and was consequently able to move about far more freely than her c.u.mbrous opponent, who had to confine herself to the deep-water channel. Even as it was she once ran aground, and was with the greatest difficulty got afloat again.

Although Terry had come to Hampton Roads a warm little sympathizer with the South, his feelings had undergone considerable change as he observed the splendid bravery of the Northern sailors; and now, while he watched the contending ironclads, he found his heart going out towards the little _Monitor_ rather than towards the big black _Merrimac_.

"Sure it doesn't seem fair play at all," he exclaimed to Captain Afleck, in a decided tone of indignation. "That small little thing's no match for the big fellow. There ought to be two of them anyhow to make it even."

But the captain, noting the advantage held by the _Monitor_, and the fact that the bombardment of her antagonist had no more effect upon her coat of mail than had hers upon the _Merrimac_, shook his head doubtfully.

"It's a more even fight than you think, Terry," said he, "and I'm not saying 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 _c.u.mberland_."

Sure enough, despairing of driving her doughty opponent off the field with broadsides, the _Merrimac_ determined to try the effect of her ram. For nearly an hour she had been manoeuvring for a position, and at last an opportunity offered. Putting on full speed, she charged forcibly down; but just in time the _Monitor_ turned aside, and the ram glanced off without doing any damage.

At seeing this Terry clapped his hands as heartily as if he had been a thorough-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 them with all the appearance of withdrawing from the fight. The Merrimac could not follow on account of the shallowness of the water, but remained out in the channel awaiting the other's return. Instead of returning, however, the _Monitor_ swung round, and steamed off in the direction of Fortress Monroe, leaving the helpless _Minnesota_ at the mercy of the enemy.

"O Captain Afleck!" cried Terry, in keen alarm, "what will become of us now? That murderin' thing will smash us all to pieces, seein' there's nothing to hinder it."

The situation of the _Minnesota_ certainly was as serious as it could well be. Many of the guns had been rendered useless in the conflict of the preceding day. Full half of the crew were killed or wounded, and most of the officers were unfit for duty. If the _Merrimac_ should resume her work of destruction, there was slight chance of any one on board surviving the catastrophe.

CHAPTER VIII.

ADVENTURES ASh.o.r.e.

For some minutes the _Minnesota's_ men were kept in harrowing uncertainty as the _Merrimac_ hung off to mid-stream, apparently undecided as to what to do next. Then, to their unspeakable relief, she swung round, and turning her prow towards Norfolk, moved heavily away. She, too, like the _Monitor_, had had her fill of fighting for that day.

At sight of this Terry tossed his cap in the air, and began an Irish jig on the fore-deck, crying,--

"Be off with you now. Sure, you've done mischief enough this blessed day. It's mighty glad I'd be never to see a sight of you again."

As it turned out he had his wish granted, for when the withdrawal of the ironclad became known at Fortress Monroe, two of the gunboats in refuge there ventured out, and, attaching themselves to the stranded ship, succeeded with great difficulty, and the aid of a flood-tide, in getting her afloat again, and towing her down-stream to safe quarters under the guns of the fort.

The following morning both Terry and Captain Afleck were able to get ash.o.r.e; and, rejoiced at regaining their liberty, they at once set about ascertaining how they might make their way back to Boston.

This was a problem by no means easily solved. They were both penniless and without friends, save such as they had made during their brief but exciting stay on board the _Minnesota_. Under other circ.u.mstances, no doubt, the captain of the frigate, as some reparation for running down the _Sea-Slipper_, would have exerted himself to send them forward; but he, poor fellow, had been severely wounded in the fighting, and the other officers were too deeply engrossed in the pressing duties of the moment to give any attention to less important matters.

It was in this crisis that Terry's really daring and devoted services to the wounded during the thick of the battle brought forth fruit. He was wandering disconsolately about the beach at Fortress Monroe, wondering how he could make his way back to Halifax and set himself right at Drummond and Brown's, when one of the _Minnesota's_ lieutenants came along, and hailed him pleasantly,--

"Where away, Terry? You look kind of down on your luck this morning."

"Indeed that I am, sir," responded Terry promptly. "I've just been axin' myself how I'm to get back to Halifax, and faith I can't make it out at all, at all."

"Oh, you want to get back to Halifax, do you?" said the lieutenant.

"Well, I can't say about that, but it's only fair you should be sent back to Boston, for you would have been there long ago if we hadn't run you down, wouldn't you?"