Part 13 (2/2)

But the admiral knew the danger that was coming. His anxiety was not decreased when the ”Brooklyn,” just ahead of him, suddenly stopped. The frown on his brows deepened, and loudly he hailed his pilot, Freeman, in the top, a few feet above him,--

”What's the matter with the Brooklyn?” he shouted. ”She must have plenty of water there.”

Freeman's head appeared promptly at the lubber's hole.

”Plenty and to spare, admiral,” he answered.

Then the admiral knew. Captain Alden had seen the ”Tec.u.mseh” go down, and the heavy line of torpedoes across the channel made him pause. The backing screw churned up the water, and the ”Hartford” every moment was bearing down on her. The vessels in the rear, pressing on those in the van, created a terrible confusion, and in the uncertainty the batteries of Farragut's s.h.i.+ps ceased fire, while the whole of Mobile Point was a living flame. Disaster was imminent.

But not a second did Farragut pause. A harsh voice from the ”Hartford”

broke the brief but ominous silence.

”What's the trouble?”

Then Alden's voice from the ”Brooklyn” answered,--

”Torpedoes.”

”d.a.m.n the torpedoes!” shouted the admiral. ”Four bells. Captain Drayton, go ahead. Jouett, full speed.”

And the ”Hartford” dashed forward, pa.s.sed the ”Brooklyn,” and a.s.sumed the head of the column.

Over the line of mines they flew at full speed, and the men below could hear them as they sc.r.a.ped along the hull. It was the one way out of the difficulty, and a second's hesitation would have closed even this escape from a frightful calamity. The admiral looked astern at the manuvring of his vessels with a smile of satisfaction. It was a magnificent sight.

At first they appeared to be fouling each other in dire confusion, at the mercy of the guns which still belched forth a merciless fire. But as the ”Hartford” dashed forward, one by one, as if by magic, they took their places. And he knew a grand tactical movement had been accomplished.

Nor did he forget the poor men of the ”Tec.u.mseh,” struggling in the water where their s.h.i.+p had gone down, but, going down the rigging, ordered Jouett to lower a boat immediately and pick up the survivors.

The ”Hartford” was nearly a mile ahead before the line could be straightened, and single-handed she fought the batteries and the gunboats, making straight for Buchanan's invincible ram, the ”Tennessee.” Amid the fire of shot and bursting sh.e.l.l the admiral walked calmly back to his quarter-deck, giving a word of advice here and an order there. But soon the other vessels were able to pour in a storm of shot and sh.e.l.l that completely silenced the batteries.

One by one he saw the gunboats sink, until only the ”Tennessee” had to be accounted for. The admiral tried to ram her, and the solid shot of his broadsides rolled down her iron sides; but she slipped away, pouring in a terrific fire at close range. She riddled the ”Brooklyn,” ”Richmond,”

and ”Monongahela,” all three of which dashed at her, bows on, at fearful speed. The admiral again struck her a fearful blow, but apparently with no effect whatever.

The ram had one great advantage: she was surrounded by enemies and could fire continually, while the Union vessels had to use the utmost care not to fire into or collide with one another. An accident of this kind now happened to Farragut's s.h.i.+p. The ”Hartford” and the ”Lackawanna” were both making at full speed for the ram. The ”Hartford” had the better position; and the ”Lackawanna,” sheering off to avoid another s.h.i.+p, ran into the quarter of the flags.h.i.+p, just where the admiral was standing, cutting her down nearly to the water's edge. The shock of the impact nearly took him off his feet, but in a moment he was climbing over the side to see what damage had been done.

His crew thought he was looking out for himself. Immediately there was a cry, ”Get the admiral out of the s.h.i.+p.” The whole thought of his crew, unmindful of themselves, was to get him to a place of safety. It was a mere sudden impulse. But Farragut was not the man to look to himself.

Having satisfied himself that the ”Hartford” could last, he again gave the order, ”Full speed,” and set his prow again for the ”Tennessee.”

But in the meanwhile the monitors had been hammering away at her with their heavy shot. Her rudder and smoke-stack were shot away, and her shutters jammed, and as the ”Hartford” bore down upon her for the third time she showed her white flag and surrendered.

The ”Hartford” was greatly cut up,--twenty-five killed and twenty-eight wounded,--but the admiral had not a scratch to show for his deadly encounters. He came on deck just as the poor fellows who had been killed were being carefully laid out on the port side of the quarter-deck.

”It was a great victory, Drayton,” said he, sadly, ”but----”

And the men saw him turn aside, tears coursing down his cheeks.

In truth, ”there is nothing half so melancholy as a battle lost, except a battle won.”

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