The Wreck of a World/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII.
Our last night on the American Continent was hot and oppressive. I lay awake hour after hour, thinking over the strange fate that had befallen our country, and forecasting the destinies of the little remnant of which I was leader. America was become a geographical expression. Her amazing wealth and fame were no more:—
"Fuit Ilium, et ingens gloria Teucrorum."
But even as these sad words crossed my mind there came by way of contrast and consolation others more cheering:—
"The remnant that is escaped shall again take root downward, and bear fruit upward."
So was it written of the old House of Judah, and was it not possible that after a more complete and terrible uprooting our national vine might have a still more glorious renewal than they? As I pondered these things and thought how we were about to commit the whole population of a continent to three frail undermanned ships, I trembled at the responsibility laid up on me. Might it not be (for we knew not what had happened in Europe and elsewhere) that we were risking the whole hope of the human race, or at least the sole remnants of its highest types, upon the chances of a single voyage, and exposing the whole stock of that inestimable plant, mankind, to the risk of destruction by fire or shipwreck? Well at least if this were so there would be none left to blame my rashness. But indeed I felt we were in the hands of Providence. In Faith, like the Egyptian sower of old, I would cast my corn upon the waters, trusting to find it increased and multiplied after many days.
I pondered upon these things till I dozed. As I passed into the land of dreams I seemed to hear a distant rushing sound that grew and grew, and then gradually died away. The cooler morning air swept my brow with restful touch and I knew no more.
Bright and cloudless dawned the day of our departure from our ancestral soil. Yet the glory of nature was dimmed, nay extinguished, by one more scene in the tragedy of sorrow. It was on this wise. From the moment of sunrise our people were busily engaged in packing up their possessions in order to transfer them on board the respective ships to which they were assigned. A Committee of some half dozen of the principal men were writing tickets and distributing them amongst the different families with a view to getting them on successive boatloads without crowding or confusion. While busily engaged in this occupation a boat hailed us, and in a few moments Lieutenant Dana stepped on board. Approaching me he whispered in my ear two words which made me start with dismay. Recovering myself, I told the committee to continue their work, and that I was obliged to go on board the Roanoke but would return shortly.
"How did it happen?" asked I, as soon as we were in the boat.
"Why, sir," replied Lieutenant Dana, "he was on watch until twelve o'clock when I relieved him, and he said he would turn in, but I was to call him when I went off my watch at four. I had been pacing the deck for some time and then sat down on the gunwale in the bows, lighted a cigar, and watched the moon which was slowly going down. Suddenly I thought I heard a slight report like a distant pistol shot, and listened intently for further sounds. But all was perfectly still. This was about a quarter before one. I stayed on watch till four, when I went and knocked at his door, and got no answer. I called out 'Four o'clock, sir,' and still got no answer. So I went in, and there found the poor fellow on his knees beside his berth. Quite dead, sir, and the revolver beside him, with one barrel discharged."
On reaching the ship we proceeded to the cabin which Dana had locked up, and found it was as he had said. Poor Lieut. Danvers had died by his own hand, through grief and disappointment at the loss of his promised bride. Yes, in spite of Shakespeare and Rosalind, some men have died for love, and he was the last. Poor fellow: his quiet reserved manner had given no indication of the dreadful shock he had received. So with one more heavy blow to burden our sad hearts we prepared our fateful voyage.
There was much to be done, but thanks to the system of tickets we got all our people on board with the minimum of trouble. The greater part of the labour of provisioning was saved us by the fact that our two ships, which we renamed the "America" and the "Hope," were found well stocked. It was evident that they had been about to be commissioned for a distant cruise. The Roanoke, however, required stores of all sorts; for these her crew foraged pretty successfully in New Orleans, sailors being good hands at such work. Dana took command of his own ship, but spared the best of his non-commissioned officers to Gell and myself, who were nominally in command of the others. The Roanoke's crew were equally divided amongst us, giving about thirty men to each; little enough to work such ships as ours. Fortunately we could supply our own engineers.
It was five o'clock on the 22nd of July, 1949, when we weighed anchor. As we began to glide away in stately procession past the banks I felt a desire to call for three cheers, but respect for the dead man lying on board the Roanoke withheld me. But Dana, without my consent, and much against my judgment, thought proper to fire twenty-one guns as a salute to the old country. For this freak we had to pay. For the sound of his fire roused our watchful foe, who had passed down the river in the night, after their unsuccessful attempt to find us anywhere up stream. It was, no doubt, the noise of their engines that had struck my dreaming ear as I was dozing off to sleep; and now as we rounded the first point below New Orleans we saw to our dismay a mighty flotilla stretching in a long line across the water, prepared to dispute our passage.
There was no evading them. No friendly night to cover us; no wooded creek in which to ride unobserved, for we had fairly confronted them now; no alternative course by which we might give them the slip, and escape to sea.
I made the signal to drop anchor, and then for Dana and Gell to come aboard at once. The spirits of our poor folks had again sunk to zero. Fortunately however the sailors, who had not yet encountered the foe and had no superstitious terror of him, were rather elated at the prospect of a fight.
"Well, gentlemen," said I as soon as we were in my state-room, "what are we to do now?"
"I see nothing for it," said Dana, "but to run through them."
"Unless," said Gell, "we think it wiser to make a bolt up stream."
"They would soon overhaul us," replied Dana. "They are light river boats, and no ironclads can match them in speed."
"True, but if we could keep clear of them for a couple of hours it would get dark, and we might let them pass us in the night."
"But can you undertake that they shall not overtake us in less than two hours? And if they come up higher and line the river where it is narrower our chance of getting through them unobserved will be less."
"Well but if we run through them by daylight we must fight. Now I don't know about your men, but ours are in such an abject state of funk that I don't believe they would have the pluck to fire a shot."
"Gentlemen," said I, "one thing is clear, that we must make up our minds at once. It is a choice of dangers, and on the whole I think the less is to run through the lines. Our ironclads can destroy any number of such flimsy craft. I think we can depend upon the sailors. As for our own folks we will clap them under hatches till all is over. Let each of us take the helm himself and run straight through the vessel nearest him. We will have the guns loaded and see if we can't account for one or two more with our broadsides. I believe we should be no safer if we fled back up stream, and our men would be demoralized into the bargain. So now you know my mind; and all I have to say is, when you meet the enemy keep her head straight."
"I quite agree with you," said Gell, "and am glad you have so decided. But I thought it right to put before you the alternative."
The other two hurried on board their respective ships to give their necessary orders. I turned to the boatswain, ordered him to clear the decks and fasten down the hatches upon all the passengers, and then to see that all the guns were loaded and manned. The gunners were not to wait for orders, but were to fire whenever they saw a good opportunity for disabling the craft as we steamed by.
I took the helm myself, with a pilot beside me in case of accidents. We weighed again, and steamed down about a cable's length apart, the Roanoke first, then Gell in the Hope, while I brought up the rear with the America. We moved forward in echelon, so as to shape a course for three of the blockading squadron.
Those were anxious minutes as we steamed swiftly down the three miles that parted us from the enemy's line. As we neared it we could see that he was preparing to give us a warm reception. What precise methods of offence he would display we knew not, but it was not for nothing that those queer spars of steel were performing strange antics on each of the uncanny looking crafts.
And now we are close upon the central ships of the blockading squadron. They were not at anchor; on the contrary we saw them set their engines in motion and steam furiously to meet us. Dana being slightly in advance was the first to encounter his opponent. The two vessels, having a cumulative speed of nearly fifty knots, met with a terrific crash. But the Roanoke passed on but slightly injured, while the other immediately began to fill and sink. The cheer sent up by Dana's men was re-echoed from our decks.
An instant later Gell charged a second vessel. But whether he kept a less straight course or whether the enemy's ship ported her helm, she was not immediately sunk, but a gaping hole was made along her side. As I passed her in the America my gunners gave her the coup-de-grace with one of our great shells, which struck her boiler and exploded her. Two seconds more and I was close upon the vessel I had selected for attack, and was expecting each moment to be thrown off my feet with the shock of collision, when with astonishing velocity she put her helm hard down and stood across the river. Seeing her manœuvre I starboarded my helm at almost the same instant, and (her way being checked by the rudder) managed to strike her full and fair amidships. Incredible as it may appear we passed clean through that vessel as if she had been built of so much paper, and it is hardly an exaggeration to say that we suffered no more damage than the scraping of the paint off our sides.
But other vessels came swarming round us, and the odds were great. Our guns began to fire rapidly, and so good was the sailors' practice that scarce a shot missed its mark, while I think every one of our heavy shells struck and blew up the boilers of the vessel at which it was aimed. Unfortunately we had but four of these heavy guns on board the America. and only two on the Hope and the Roanoke, and having been once fired they remained useless after, for without the proper hydraulic machinery it would have taken long, longer than the conflict lasted, to get them re-loaded.
But though we had destroyed ten of the foe we were not yet out of the wood. An evil looking craft of great size, and no river-boat this time but an ironclad, the skin of which our smaller shot was unable to pierce, came alongside us and manœuvring so as to avoid being rammed, suddenly dropped an immense arm of steel on our foremast. What was the meaning of this manœuvre? I soon discovered. Rapidly hauling in the arm which had clutched the mast with immense force, she proceeded to pull us over on our beam ends, until our ports were all but under water. At a word from me, two sailors rushed up the shrouds to disengage us. But their axes were useless against the steel bars, and had it not been for the presence of mind of the boatswain who cut the topmast stays we must have been sunk. But as soon as these were gone the mast snapped with a report like a cannon shot; the ship recovered equilibrium with a great lurch, and the enemy's ship slewed round on the sudden relaxation of the strain. I saw my chance, got my vessel's head round, and made for the enemy. Crash went my bows into her quarter, and at the same moment Gell who had seen our danger crashed into her from the other side, our bowsprits nearly meeting across her deck. She began to fill and sink, but so firmly were we wedged, that it was only by putting on full steam and reversing the engines that Gell and I succeeded in disengaging ourselves from being carried down with our sinking foe.
The last honours of this eventful day rested with Dana. We had now fairly broken through the enemy's line, and had proved ourselves more than a match for these soulless machines, with all their mechanical perfection and blind implacable fury. As we dropped down the river, leaving the discomfited host behind, we found ourselves in the reverse formation to that in which we had attacked, for I was now leading the way, Dana bringing up the rear. Our fighting we thought was at an end; but we proved to be mistaken. For suddenly there appeared from I know not where a huge war-vessel of enormons dimensions, which bore down at once upon the nearest of our little squadron, which happened to be the Roanoke.
Dana fired several shots at this great galleon, but they glanced harmlessly off her invulnerable skin. And now for the first time our fire was returned. From want of guns, or whatever reason, none of the other vessels had fired a shot against us. But this monster proceeded to discharge huge shells, which came singing over our heads, or splashing the water high above us where they struck. One of these shells would have been quite enough to destroy the Roanoke, or the America or Hope either; fortunately they were very badly aimed, or not aimed at all. So Dana commenced to run his vessel rapidly round the great monster, like a swordfish round a whale, now trying a shot, now assailing her with his ram, but soon finding that her solid construction made him the chief sufferer in these encounters. Presently one of her great arms fell on his mast, and nearly swamped his ship as it had done mine. Like us he also had to sacrifice his topmast. And all the while the great shot and shell were pouring out of the huge guns, and it became clear to all that there could be but one end to the fight, since the enemy was invulnerable, and sooner or later one of the shot was sure to sink the Roanoke. At the same time if we joined in the attack we should only impede his movements, and in no respect help our comrade.
Dana seems to have felt as we did that unless he could devise some other means of offence than his guns and ram the battle must end in his destruction. So circling round and round her, near enough to let the shot and shell pass over him, yet far enough off to be beyond those terrible arms, he made his preparations. Presently we saw him draw off to the distance of perhaps seven hundred yards, at which range the shot and shell fell just beyond him. Was he going to ram again, hoping that at great speed he would be able to crash through the sides even of this steel wall? It seemed so, for he began to advance under full steam. We trembled for the result, for even if successful, his own already damaged bows must have been completely shattered.
But as he got close to the enemy, we saw his speed checked, the engines reversed, and instead of striking the enemy a furious blow it seemed doubtful if he would touch her at all. But just as the great arm was extented to clutch mast or smoke-stack again, a spar of great length was run out from the Roanoke's bowsprit, armed with a torpedo at the end, at such a level as to strike the monster's side just below the surface of the water. A loud explosion followed, and through the mountain of water and spray we saw the Roanoke speeding away, and the monster seemingly uninjured. Not so however in reality. A breach had been made in her side, and as we watched we saw that she was slowly but surely settling down. The sun was now on the point of setting, having remained above the horizon just long enough to light us to victory. Darkness fell rapidly, but still we could see the flash of the great guns of the sinking ship, and hear the shells hurtling over our heads. It was quite dark when these sights and sounds suddenly ceased.
The enemy had sunk in ninety fathoms of water.