CHAPTER FIVE.
TERRIBLE TORPEDO TALES, FOLLOWED BY OVERTURNED PLANS.
Change of scene has almost always an invigorating effect on the mind.Whatever be the nature of your mind, variety, rest assured, will improveits condition.
So we thought, my mother and I, Nicholas and Bella, as we lay, onebeautiful morning, becalmed in the English Channel.
The yacht turned out to be a most charming vessel. Schooner-rigged,with two cabins, one of which formed our _salon_ during the day, and thegentlemen's bed-room by night, the other being set apart entirely forthe ladies. It was quite full. My mother and Bella filled it. Anotherfemale would have caused it to overflow.
Contrary to all expectation, my mother turned out a capital sailor;better even than Bella, on whom she attended during the first part ofthe voyage when the latter was ill.
"D'you think we shall have a good passage across the far-famed Bay ofBiscay?" asked Nicholas, as he sat on the cabin skylight, smoking a mildcigar. Talking of that, smoking was the only thing in which I could notjoin my future brother-in-law. I know not how it is, but so it is thatI cannot smoke. I have often tried to, but it invariably makes me sick,for which, perhaps, I ought to be thankful.
"It is to be hoped we shall," I replied to his question; "but I am not ajudge of weather. What think you, Mr Whitlaw?" I said, addressing myskipper.
"I hope we shall, sir," replied the skipper, with a deferential touch ofhis cap, and a glance round the horizon; "but I don't feel sure."
Mr Whitlaw was an American, and a splendid specimen of the nation towhich he belonged,--tall, lanky, broad-shouldered, gentlemanly, grave,self-possessed, prompt, good-humoured: I have seldom met a moreagreeable man. He had been in the Northern navy of America during thelast war, and had already introduced some of the discipline, to which hehad been accustomed, amongst my small crew.
Bella was up on deck enjoying the sunset; so was my mother. Lancey wasbusy cleaning my fowling-piece, near the companion-hatch.
"It is charming," exclaimed my mother.
"So calm," said Bella.
"And settled-looking," remarked Nicholas, flipping the end of his cigarover the side.
"Mr Whitlaw does not appear to think so favourably of the weather," Iremarked.
The skipper, looking gravely at a particular point on the horizon, said,in a quiet tone--
"The clouds are heavy."
"From which you judge that the fine weather may not last?"
"It may be so, but the indications are not certain," was his cautiousreply.
That night we were in a perfect chaos of wind and water. Thestorm-fiend seemed to have reserved all his favours in order to give usa befitting reception. The sea roared, the wind yelled, the yacht--butwhy repeat the oft-told tale that invariably ends with "Biscay, O!" Aweek later and we were in a dead calm, revelling in warmth, bathed insunshine, within the straits of Gibraltar.
It was evening. All sail was set. Not a puff of wind rendered thatdisplay available. The reef-points pattered as the yacht rolledgracefully from side to side on the gentle heave of the Mediterranean'sbosom.
Sitting on a rug on the deck, between my mother and Nicholas, Bellasaid, in a low quiet tone, "This is perfect felicity."
"Agreed," said Nicholas, in a similar tone, with a puff from his cigar.
Bella referred to the calm, of course!
A sea-captain, sitting astride the bulwarks of his ship in the"Doldrums," far far away from Bella, said, in reference to a similarcalm which had beset him for three weeks, "This is perfectly maddening,"with many other strong expressions which we would rather not record; butBella, of course, did not know that, and could not be expected toreflect on it. She was taken up with her own comforts at the time.
"My dear," said Mrs Childers, "I think I shall go to bed. Come withme. Good-night, Nicholas. Will you keep the skylight off to-night,Jeffry? It was too hot in our cabin last night."
"Of course I will," said I; "why did you not ring, and let me know thatyou would like fresh air? But I shall see to it to-night."
About eleven o'clock that night, I lay on one of the lockers of the maincabin, in a wakeful mood. Nicholas lay on the other locker, in thatprofound slumber which is so characteristic of healthy youth. Hisregular breathing was the only sound I heard, except the soft footfallof our skipper, as he slowly paced the deck.
Presently I heard another step. It advanced, and a low "Fine night,sir," apprised me that it was Lancey, who had come on deck to airhimself after the culinary and other labours of the day, for he servedin the capacity of cook and steward to the yacht.
"I wish you'd tell me about that expedition you was speakin' off to themaster this morning," said Lancey.
"With pleasure," replied the skipper; "sit down here, and I'll spin itoff to you right away."
I knew by the sound of their motions that they had seated themselves atthe foot of the main-mast, just between the skylights of the two cabins,and feared that their talk might disturb my mother; but, reflecting thatshe must have got to sleep long ago, I thought it better not to disturbthem, unless their talk should become too loud. As for myself, in mywakeful mood, their converse could not annoy me. After a time it beganto interest me deeply.
"It was about the blowing-up of Southern ironclads, was it not?" saidthe skipper. As he spoke I could distinctly hear the puff, puff, of hispipe between each half-dozen words.
"_Just_ so," replied Lancey. "The master is uncommon fond ofblowin's-up and inquirin' into the natur' of things. I never know'danother except one as beat 'im at inwestigation, but that one beateverybody I ever seen or heard of. He was a Scotch boy, named Sandy--"
"What was his other name?" asked the skipper.
"'Aven't a notion," replied Lancey. "We never called 'im anythink else.I don't believe he 'ad any other name. He said he was the son of anapothecary. No doubt the schoolmaster knew 'is other name, if he 'adone, but he never used it, and we boys were content with Sandy. Thatboy, sir, seemed to me to know everythink, and was able, I believe, todo hanythink. He was a tremendous fighter, too, though not out o' theway as regards size. He could lick the biggest boy in the school, andwhen he made up his mind to do a thing, nothin' on earth could stop hima-doin' of it."
"Good," said the skipper, with an emphatic puff; "that's what weAmericans call the power to go ahead. Did Sandy become a great man?"
"Don't know," answered Lancey. "He went a'ead too fast for me tofoller. One day the master gave 'im a lickin'. He vowed he'd berevenged. Next mornin' early he got up an' smashed the school winders,redooced the master's desk to matchwood, an' walked away whistlin'. Inever seed 'im since."
"Nor heard of him?"
"Nor 'eard of 'im."
"That was a pity," said the skipper, with a prolonged whiff.
"It was. But go on, Mister Whitlaw, with your hanecdotes. I couldn'trightly hear all you said to the master."
"It was about torpedo warfare we were talking," said the skipper. "Youknow that sort o' thing is only in its infancy, but the Americans, asusual, had the honour of starting it fairly into being."
"The `honour,' eh?" said Lancey; "h'm! well, I'm not so sure about thehonour, but go on."
"Well, whether it be an honour or no, I won't dispute," returned theskipper, with a puff; "but of this I am sure, that during the late warbetween the North and South in America, torpedo practice was regularlybrought into play for the first time, and the case which I broughtbefore Mr Childers yesterday is only one of many which I coulddescribe. I'll not relate the same story, but another and a better.
"About the beginning of the war, in 1862, the Confederates--these werethe Southern men--blew up our ironclad, the _Cairo_, in which I lost oneof my most intimate friends; and in 1864 they attempted to blow up the_Wabash_, and myself along with it. The _Cairo_ business was caused bysunk torpedoes. She was going up the Yazoo river at the time, and hadlowered a boat to search for torpedoes, which were known to be sunkthere. They su
cceeded in fishing up one, which was found to be anexploded one. Meanwhile the _Cairo_, having got rather too close inshore, backed out towards the middle of the stream, when two explosionsoccurred in quick succession, one close to the port-quarter, the otherunder the port-bow. The effect was tremendous. Some of the heavy gunswere actually lifted from the deck. The captain instantly shoved the_Cairo_ on the bank, and got a hawser out to a tree to keep her, ifpossible, from sinking in deep water. The pumps, steam and hand, wereset going immediately; but her whole frame, ironclad though she was, hadbeen so shattered, that nothing could save her. Twelve minutesafterwards she slipped down into six fathoms water, giving them barelytime to get out the boats and save the sick men aboard, and the arms.My friend was one of the sick, and the moving was ultimately the deathof him, though no lives were lost at the time."
"You're not tellin' me crackers, are you?" said Lancey, in anincredulous tone.
"My good fellow," returned the skipper, "I wish that I were. The storyis only too true, and I would it were the only one of the sort I had totell. You can find a book in London, [see note 1] if you like, whichtells all about this and the other torpedo work done during the lateAmerican war."
"Well, then," said Lancey, in the tone of an eager listener, while, bythe tapping on the combings of the hatchway, I could distinguish that hewas emptying his pipe, with a view, no doubt, to the enjoyment ofanother, "and what happened when they tried to blow _you_ up?"
"Well, you must know," resumed the skipper, "it was long afterwards,near the end of the war. I was in the US steamer _Wabash_ at the time.We were at anchor off Charleston, and we kept a sharp look-out at thattime, for it was a very different state of things from the wooden-wallwarfare that Nelson used to carry on. Why, we never turned in a nightwithout a half sort of expectation of being blown into the sky beforemorning. It was uneasy work, too, for although American sailors are asgood at _facing_ death as any men, they don't like the notion of deathcoming in on them, like a sneak below the waterline, and taking them inthe dark while asleep. We were always on the alert, and doubly so atthat time, for only a short while previously, the Confederates had sunkanother of our ironclads, the _Housatonic_, with one of theirtorpedo-Davids,--little boats that were so called because, compared withthe great ironclads they were meant to attack, they somewhat resembledDavid when he went out against Goliath.
"Well, as I said, the _Wabash_ was at anchor, and it was night--not verylate, about ten; but it was very dark.
"Fortunately the deck was in charge that night of a young officer namedCraven, and never was an officer worse named or better deserving to becalled Courage. He had his wits about him. At the hour I have named,he observed something on the starboard-quarter, about 150 yards off. Itresembled a plank on the water. In reality it was a torpedo-David. Itwas opposite the main-mast when first observed, going rapidly againstthe tide. At that moment it turned and made straight for the ship.Craven was up to the mark. He commenced with volleys of musketry; beatthe gong for the crew to assemble at quarters; rang four bells for theengine to go ahead; opened fire with the watch and the starboardbattery; and gave orders to slip the cable.
"His orders, you may be sure, were obeyed with promptitude. The gongsent every man from his hammock as if he had received an electric shock.Jack-in-the-box never came out of his box more promptly than each manshot up the hatchway. An exaggerated idea of the effect of torpedoes--if that were possible--had got possession of us. We were at ourquarters in a moment; the ship moved ahead; the chain slipped; and thetorpedo-boat passed us about forty yards astern. A round shot from usat the same moment appeared to strike it. We cheered. A second shotwas fired, and appeared to send it to the bottom, for we saw it no more.
"But now _our_ turn came," continued the skipper, refilling his pipe."Puff! you see we were not so well situated as the Southerners for theuse of this weapon, for we had to go in to attack their forts, whilethey had only to defend themselves, which they did largely with sunktorpedoes.
"We had long been desirous of revenging their attacks in a similarfashion, and at last we were successful on the 27th of October. I hadthe good luck to be one of the expedition. It was risky work, ofcourse. We all knew that, but where is the nation worthy of the namethat will not find men for risky work? People talk about the differenceof courage in nations. In my opinion that is all gammon. Most nationsthat lie near to one another are pretty much alike as to courage. Intimes of trial among all nations, the men of pluck come to the front,and the plucky men, be they American, English, French, German, Russian,or Turk, do pretty much the same thing--they fight like heroes till theyconquer or die."
"Better if they didn't fight at all," remarked Lancey.
"That's true, but if you're attacked you _must_ fight. Anyhow, on thisparticular occasion we attacked the Confederate ironclad ram_Albemarle_, and sent her to the bottom. I had volunteered for the dutywith some other men from the squadron, and we started in a steam-launchunder Lieutenant Cushing. The distance from the mouth of the river towhere the ram lay was about eight miles, the stream averaging 200 yardsin width, and being lined with the enemy's pickets, so that we had toproceed with the utmost possible caution. We set out in the dead ofnight. There was a wreck on our way, which was surrounded by schooners,and we knew that a gun was mounted there to command the bend of theriver. We had the good luck, however, to pass the pickets and the wreckwithout being discovered, and were not hailed until seen by the look-outof the ram itself.
"Without replying to the hail, we made straight at her under a full headof steam. The enemy sprang their rattles, rang their bell, andcommenced firing. The _Albemarle_ was made fast to a wharf, with adefence of logs around her about thirty feet from her side. A chancefire on the shore enabled us to see this, although the night wasintensely dark, and raining.
"From the report afterwards published by the commander of the_Albemarle_, it seems that a good look-out had been kept. The watchalso had been doubled, and when we were seen (about three in themorning) they were all ready. After hailing, a brisk fire was opened onus both by small arms and large guns; but the latter could not bebrought to bear, owing to our being so close, and we partially disturbedthe aim of the former by a dose of canister at close range. PaymasterSwan, of the _Otsego_, was wounded near me, and some others. My ownjacket was cut in many places, and the air seemed full of bullets.
"Our torpedo-boom was out and ready. Passing close to the _Albemarle_,we made a complete circle round her, so as to strike her fairly. ThenLieutenant Cushing gave the order, and we went straight at her, bows on.In a moment we struck the logs, just abreast of the quarter-port, withsuch force that we leaped half over them, at the same time breasted themin. The boom was lowered at once. `Now, lads, a vigorous pull!' saidCushing.
"We obeyed, and sent the torpedo right under the overhang of the ship.It exploded. At the same instant the _Albemarle's_ great-gun was fired.A shot seemed to go crashing through the boat, and a dense mass ofwater rushed in from the torpedo. It seemed to me as if heaven andearth had come together. Smoke and yells, with continued firing at onlyfifteen feet range, followed, in the midst of which I heard thecommander of the ironclad summon us to surrender. I heard ourlieutenant twice refuse, and then, ordering the men to save themselves,he jumped into the water. I followed him, and for some time swam in themidst of a shower-bath caused by plunging shot and bullets, but not oneof them struck me. At last I reached the shore, and escaped.
"At the time I thought we must have failed in our purpose, but I wasmistaken. Though we had lost one boat and some of our men, many of thembeing captured, I learned that the _Albemarle_ had sunk in fifteenminutes after the explosion of the torpedo, only her shield andsmoke-stack being left out of the water to mark the spot where a mightyiron-clad had succumbed to a few pounds of well-applied gunpowder!"
"If that be so," said Lancey, after a pause and deep sigh, "it seems tome no manner of use to build ironclads at all, and that it would bebetter, as
well as cheaper, in time to come, to fight all our battleswith torpedo-boats."
"It may be so," replied the skipper, rising, "but as that is a subjectwhich is to be settled by wiser heads than ours, and as you have to lookafter the ladies' breakfast to-morrow morning, I'd strongly advise youto turn in."
Lancey took the hint, and as he slept in a berth close to the cabin, Iquickly had nasal assurance that he had thrown care and torpedoes to thedogs.
It was not so with myself. Much of the information which Mr Whitlawhad unconsciously conveyed to me was quite new, for although I had, as ayouth, read and commented on the late American war while it was inprogress, I had not given to its details that amount of close studywhich is necessary to the formation of a reasonable judgment. At firstI could not resist the conviction that my skipper must have beenindulging in a small amount of exaggeration, especially when I reflectedon the great strength and apparent invulnerability of such massivevessels as our _Thunderer_; but knowing the sedate and truthfulcharacter of Mr Whitlaw, I felt perplexed. Little did I think at thetime that I should live to see, and that within the year, the truth ofhis statements corroborated with my own eyes. I meditated long thatnight on war and its results, as well as the various processes by whichit is carried on; and I had arrived at a number of valuable conclusions,which I would have given worlds to have been able to jot down at themoment, when I was overtaken by that which scattered them hopelessly tothe winds: I fell sound asleep!
The rest of this delightful voyage I am compelled to pass over, in orderthat I may come to matters of greater importance.
We had reached the neighbourhood of the beautiful town of Nice, when mydear mother, to my surprise and mortification, suddenly announced thatshe could not endure the sea any longer. She had kept pretty well, sheadmitted, and had enjoyed herself, too, except when listening to thosedreadful stories of the captain about the American war, which hadtravelled to her down the after-cabin skylight, during wakeful hours ofthe night. Despite appearances, she said she had suffered a good deal.There was something, she declared, like a dumpling in her throat, whichalways seemed about to come up, but wouldn't, and which she constantlytried to swallow, but couldn't.
In these circumstances, what could I do? We had meant to land at Nicein passing. I now resolved to leave my mother and sister there andproceed eastward--it might be to Egypt or the Black Sea--withNaranovitsch. The latter had ordered his letters to be forwarded toNice; we therefore ran into the port, and, while my mother and sisterand I drove to "the Chateau" to see the splendid view from thatcommanding position, he went off to the post-office.
On returning to the yacht, we found poor Nicholas in deep distress. Hehad received a letter announcing the death of his father, and requiringhis immediate return to Russia. As the circumstances admitted of nodelay, and as my mother could not be prevailed on to go farther in theyacht, it was hastily arranged that she and Bella should return throughFrance to England, and that Nicholas should take charge of them.
Our plans being fixed, they were at once carried into effect, and thesame evening I found myself alone in my yacht, with no one but theskipper and crew and the faithful Lancey, to keep me company.
The world was now before me where to choose. After a consultation withmy skipper, I resolved to go on a cruise in the Black Sea, and perhapsascend the Danube, in spite of the rumours of possible war between theRussians and Turks.
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Note 1. "A Treatise on Coast-Defence ... Compiled from officialreports of officers of the United States. By Von Scheliha,Lieutenant-Colonel and chief engineer of the department of the Gulf ofMexico of the army of the late Confederate States of America."
In the Track of the Troops Page 5
