CHAPTER XXX.
THE END OF THE REBELLION.
The Firefly, with her energetic young commander, was too serviceable to be permitted long to remain in idleness, and she was ordered to join Admiral Porter's squadron, which had failed to capture Fort Fisher in December; or rather, the military portion of the expedition had failed to do it, for the navy had done its part of the work to the satisfaction of the nation.
Somers sailed again, and in due time reported to the admiral, who was then waiting for the army, in order to make the second attack. A tremendous gale delayed the expedition; but on the 13th of January, the bombardment of Fort Fisher was commenced, and the military force was landed on Federal Point. A detachment of sailors from the Firefly, under the command of Lieutenant Longstone, was sent on shore to join the naval brigade, and the steamer was variously employed during the action, rendering valuable aid with her hundred pounder, as well as performing various duties, for which her great speed and light draught peculiarly fitted her. The zeal and energy of Somers were warmly commended, though he had no opportunity to render any signal service in the attack.
Fort Fisher fell this time; every man and every ship was faithful; and though some were distinguished by gallant exploits, the victory was the result of the steadiness of the whole line, rather than of the brilliant deeds of the few. The last maritime stronghold of the rebellion was reduced, and the sinking Confederacy was shut in from all material support from abroad. Its days were numbered, and many of its most rabid supporters were now crying out for peace.
The flag of the Union floated over Fort Fisher, and the great fleet before its shattered ramparts celebrated the victory with clouds of gay flags, with flights of rockets, and with salvos of artillery. It was a glorious day for that expedition. Admiral Porter and General Terry won a glorious fame and an unfading name upon the annals of their country.
Gallant old Tom Longstone was wounded in the arm in an attempt to rally the sailors when they broke under the most terrible fire that mortal men ever breasted. Lieutenant Longstone did all that any officer could do, but the whole garrison seemed to be gathered at the point where the naval assault was made. The sailors were repulsed and driven back. They had never been disciplined to this kind of work; yet they fought like tigers, hand to hand oftentimes, with the foe; and though they were forced back, even while the American flag was floating over the other side of the works, it was no disgrace to them. Tom stood by to the last, though he was severely wounded, and finally had the satisfaction of beholding a complete triumph. The soldiers did wonders on that day—the sailors hardly less.
With other vessels of light draught the Firefly went up the river, fishing up torpedoes, transporting soldiers, and hammering down rebel batteries, and continued upon this duty until General Terry marched into the deserted city of Wilmington, and raised the national flag where the emblem of treason had insulted the free air for four long years.
The Firefly was ordered to the James River, in the vicinity of which the last groan of the expiring monster of Rebellion was soon to be heard; and on the 20th of March she was on her winding way up the stream. In the mean time Charleston had fallen; negro troops patrolled her streets, and the people of this foul nest of secession were suffering the agonies of actual subjugation. Sherman, with his grand army, was "marching on" in his resistless course, with hardly a foe to impede his exultant march. Columbia, the proud capital of arrogant South Carolina, yielded, and the people repented their folly in the ashes of the burning city. Johnston was retreating before his invincible conqueror, and the whole military power of the rebellion east of Mississippi was concentrated within an area of not more than a hundred and fifty miles.
The movements of General Grant before Petersburg commenced; and his great army, now animated by the sure prestige of victory, was hurled against the rebel lines. The shock was tremendous; the whole world seemed to be shaken by it, for it was the onslaught of freedom, striking its last terrible blow at the legions of slavery.
The fleet on the James was busily employed in fishing up torpedoes, in guarding the pontoons across the river, and in "neutralizing" the enemy's iron-clads which lay above the obstructions. The Firefly found abundant occupation, though there was no opportunity for brilliant and startling achievements; but she bore her full share in the hard work and disagreeable drudgery of the occasion.
Tom Longstone had entirely recovered from his wound; and being a practical man himself, he was the life of every working party sent out from the ship. The old man was an immense favorite with the sailors; for, unlike many who have risen from a low position to a high, he was kind and considerate, while he exacted the full measure of duty from all. He was no tyrant, and had a heart for every man, whatever his degree.
"Well, Mr. Longstone, we have got almost to the end of the rebellion," said Captain Somers, on one of those last days of March, when the roar from beyond Petersburg was heavier than usual.
"No doubt of that, captain," replied Tom. "I shall be a boatswain again before long."
"Do you dread the time?"
"No, sir; far be it from me. I wouldn't prolong the war a single day, if that day would make me an admiral."
"Only one day, Tom?" said Somers, with a smile.
"Not one, sir!" repeated the veteran, with emphasis. "For on that day a husband or a father, a brother or a son, might be killed, and I should be a murderer before God."
"What do you think of those, then, that began this war?"
"They are murderers! The blood of every man who has been killed in this war on both sides rests on their heads. I'd rather be Cain than Jeff Davis, or any other man of his crew."
"I think you are right, Tom."
"As for me, it don't make much difference whether I'm a boatswain or an admiral. This old hulk won't stand many more storms; and I wouldn't do a mean thing for the sake of living twenty years. Well, well," sighed the veteran, as he glanced in the direction from which the roar of the artillery came, "many a good fellow will lose the number of his mess to-day."
"Hundreds of them."
And so the reports of the succeeding days assured them. The rebels had stormed and temporarily possessed themselves of Fort Steadman. The terrible conflict was opened in earnest; and from that time, swarms of prisoners were sent forward to the river, which were guarded by detachments of sailors and marines from the fleet.
For three days the storm of war continued to howl in the distance, and on the peaceful Sabbath more fiercely than before. Vague rumors were flying through the fleet, and everybody felt that the end was at hand. Somers retired as usual that night; but in the first watch, Tom Longstone came down to him with report of great lights and heavy explosions in the direction of Richmond.
The rebels were evacuating the city, blowing up their iron-clads, and firing the town. Richmond, which had defied the armies of the Union for four years, had fallen. The heroic and persevering Grant had struck a blow miles away, which tumbled down the last stronghold of treason. Jeff Davis and his cabinet were fugitives now, fleeing from men, while the wrath of God pursued where men could not reach them.
The morning came, and with it the glad tidings of victory, which foreshadowed peace. The Firefly was ordered to move up the river, and she went up into waters where a loyal steamer had not floated for four years. The negro troops were even then marching through the streets of Richmond. The note of rejoicing, begun in the early morning, was continued through the day. The brightest flags and the heaviest guns proclaimed the joyful event.
The Firefly went up to Varina, and then returned. This river was clear; there was no sign of an enemy upon its waters. At City Point the sounds of rejoicing thrilled upon the ear of soldier and sailor. Cheer upon cheer rent the air, gun upon gun roared the pæan of triumph, and every heart beat in unison with the glad acclaim.
"Glory, hallelujah!" shouted Somers, on the quarter deck of the Firefly, as she passed through the fleet.
"Glory, hallelujah!" returned all who heard him.
Three rousing cheers, such as Jack only can give, came from the flag-ship, as the Firefly ran under her counter.
"What's that?" asked Somers—for there seemed to be something unusual going on.
Calling his gig, he went on board the flag-ship to report the result of his visit up the river. On the quarter deck he discovered a familiar face, which thrilled his heart with delight. It was "Brave Old Salt."
Somers approached the vice admiral, cap in hand, and was immediately recognized.
"Mr. Somers, I am delighted to see you!" said the admiral, extending his hand.
"Thank you, sir," replied the young commander. "This is an unexpected happiness to me."
"There is only one joy to-day, Mr. Somers," continued the admiral. "Richmond has fallen, and the rebellion is ended!"
"Glory, hallelujah!" said Somers, waving his cap.
"I came down here to learn what Grant was doing. God bless him! He has done everything," added the admiral.
Rear Admiral Porter now ordered the Firefly to be placed at the disposal of the Old Salamander, and Somers was happy in the duty assigned to him. A twelve-oar barge received the vice admiral, and conveyed him to the steamer in which his voyage was to be continued. When he was on board, the barge was towed astern for his use farther up the river.
The Firefly steamed up the river with her illustrious passenger, and at the invitation of the admiral, Somers accompanied him to Richmond.
A day later came President Lincoln in a barge, attended by Admiral Porter, and Somers had the honor of being formally presented to the chief magistrate of the nation, who had a pleasant word for him, as he had for all who approached him. Somers assisted in the ovation to the president, and listened with wonder and delight to the shouts of the negroes, as they greeted the author of the Emancipation Proclamation as the saviour and redeemer of their race.
Ten days later, that simple, great man fell by the hand of the assassin, though not till the news of the surrender of Lee's army had gladdened his heart, and assured him that the great work of his lifetime was finished.
Somers was shocked, stunned by the fearful news, the more so that he had so recently pressed the hand of the illustrious martyr; and though the nation was full of mourners, there were none more sincere in their grief than the young commander of the Firefly. He wept as he would have wept for his own father; and shutting himself up in his cabin, in solemn fast, he read his Bible and prayed for the land he loved. How many true souls did the same, when they heard of the awful tragedy!
The war was ended. A few days later came the news of Johnston's surrender. One by one, the gunboats were ordered north, and in June the Firefly dropped her anchor off the navy yard at Charlestown. A few hours later Somers was in the arms of the loved ones at home, weeping tears of joy that the sound of strife was no more heard in the land.
The Firefly was no longer needed in the navy, and with a hundred others she was sold. As soon as she went out of commission, Tom Longstone, having been "honorably discharged with the thanks of the department" as an ensign, returned to his former rank of boatswain. When he obtained a furlough, he paid a visit to Pinchbrook, where he was kindly received by all the friends of his protégé. The old man had money enough to buy him a farm and retire from the navy; but he obstinately refused to do so while Somers retained his commission. He confidently expected to be appointed boatswain of the ship to which Lieutenant Somers might be ordered.
During his absence Somers had received occasional letters from Kate Portington; and we will not undertake to say how many reams of fine note paper he spoiled in saying what can be of interest to none but the parties concerned. Of course there was any quantity of liquid moonshine spread out on these dainty sheets, and the young man was all the happier for writing it, as she was for reading it, for Kate and Somers had come to an excellent understanding with each other on these matters.
At the earliest day the public service would admit, he hastened to Newport; but on his arrival he found the commodore's house filled with grief and lamentation. The husband and the father—the kindest of husbands and the tenderest of fathers—had been suddenly stricken down in New Orleans, where his ship was stationed. The sad tidings had come but a few hours before; and a few hours later it had flashed all over the land that one of the nation's truest defenders had fallen at the post of duty.
In her grief Kate clung to Somers, who became the tenderest of comforters. Then she learned, when earth was dark to her, what a wealth of holy hope and pious faith there was in the soul of him she had chosen from the whole world to lean upon in joy and in sorrow, in prosperity and adversity, till life's fitful dream was over. Fondly she looked up to him in her heavy affliction, and through him to the heaven of which he spoke. He wept with her for him who was gone, and if she had loved him before, she reverenced him now.
Two weeks after the news came a steamer bearing the remains of the deceased commodore. Then the tears broke out afresh, and Somers continued to perform the holy office he had chosen. With the bereaved child—the only one—he stood at the tomb, and helped her to see the glory that streamed forth beyond its dark portals. Every day, for weeks after, he visited her, never now to speak of his own selfish heart yearnings, but to utter words of peace and hope. When he announced his intention to return home, she could not restrain her tears, so needful had he become to her in the depth of her sorrow.
In the autumn her mother and herself came to Boston to spend the winter. Kate was cheerful now, but the affliction through which she had passed had given a shade of pensive sadness to her beautiful face, which time alone could wear away. They attended the wedding of Major Somers, John's brother, and rejoiced with him as he put the cup of bliss to his lips. Lilian and Kate became fast friends; they were nearer alike now than before the death of Commodore Portington.
The winter passed away, and early in March Lieutenant Somers was appointed to a ship bound to the Pacific Ocean. He must be absent two or three years. He hastened to Kate with the intelligence; and sad as it was to himself, he knew it would be infinitely more so to her. She turned pale, and burst into tears. Her mother was hardly less affected.
"You must not go, John! O, no! You will not leave me!"
"I must obey orders."
"You can resign," suggested Mrs. Portington.
"Resign!" exclaimed Somers. "Resign when I am ordered to difficult or disagreeable duty."
"You need not make so much of it," added the matron, with a smile. "There are twice as many officers in the navy as are required. It is certainly no disgrace, in time of peace, to resign. You will only make a place for another who wants to visit the Pacific."
"You must resign, John," pleaded Kate, with an eloquence which he could not resist.
"On one condition I will do so," replied he, at last. "If there should be war, I shall return to my post, if needed."
And thus it was that Somers left the navy. His prize money, which had been carefully invested from time to time by Captain Barney, now amounted to more than twenty thousand dollars. He was able to retire, and he did so.
It is generally understood that they are to be married in the autumn, when Mr. Somers will receive half a million with his wife, who is worth a million times that sum herself. As the happy event has not yet occurred, we have nothing to say about it, but we wish them every joy in anticipation. Mrs. Portington speaks hopefully of the occasion, and has already selected a location, in the vicinity of Boston, where the happy young couple are to reside.
This event has decided Tom Longstone. He has thrown up his warrant, and bought a farm in Pinchbrook, on which he intends to "lay up" for the rest of his life. A niece, who lost her husband in the war, is his housekeeper, and at the time of Somers's last visit, the veteran was at the high tide of felicity.
With many regrets we bid adieu to John Somers, to Thomas his brother, and all of the family. We leave them prosperous and happy; but they have purchased earth's joys and heaven's hopes by being faithful to duty—true to God and themselves.
THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES.
In Six Volumes.
A Library for Young and Old.
BY OLIVER OPTIC.
I.
THE SOLDIER BOY;
Or, Tom Somers in the Army.
II.
THE SAILOR BOY;
Or, Jack Somers in the Navy.
III.
THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT;
Or, The Adventures of an Army Officer.
A SEQUEL TO "THE SOLDIER BOY."
IV.
THE YANKEE MIDDY;
Or, The Adventures of a Naval Officer.
A SEQUEL TO "THE SAILOR BOY."
V.
FIGHTING JOE;
Or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer.
A SEQUEL TO "THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT."
VI.
BRAVE OLD SALT;
Or, Life on the Quarter Deck.
A SEQUEL TO "THE YANKEE MIDDY."
WOODVILLE STORIES.
BY OLIVER OPTIC.
I.
RICH AND HUMBLE;
Or, The Mission of Bertha Grant.
II.
IN SCHOOL AND OUT;
Or, The Conquest of Richard Grant.
III.
WATCH AND WAIT;
Or, the Young Fugitives.
IV.
WORK AND WIN.
V.
HOPE AND HAVE.
(In preparation.)
VI.
HASTE AND WASTE.
(In preparation.)
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers.
LIBRARY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BY OLIVER OPTIC.
I.
THE BOAT CLUB;
OR, THE BUNKERS OF RIPPLETON.
II.
ALL ABOARD;
OR, LIFE ON THE LAKE.
III.
LITTLE BY LITTLE;
OR, THE CRUISE OF THE FLYAWAY.
IV.
TRY AGAIN;
OR, THE TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST.
V.
NOW OR NEVER;
OR, THE ADVENTURES OF BOBBY BRIGHT.
VI.
POOR AND PROUD;
OR, THE FORTUNES OF KATY REDBURN.
Six volumes, put up in a neat box.
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers.
RIVERDALE STORY BOOKS.
BY OLIVER OPTIC.
12 vols., in neat box.
I.
THE LITTLE MERCHANT.
II.
THE YOUNG VOYAGERS.
III.
THE CHRISTMAS GIFT.
IV.
DOLLY AND I.
V.
UNCLE BEN.
VI.
BIRTH-DAY PARTY.
VII.
PROUD AND LAZY.
VIII.
CARELESS KATE.
IX.
ROBINSON CRUSOE, JR.
X.
THE PICNIC PARTY.
XI.
THE GOLD THIMBLE.
XII.
THE DO-SOMETHINGS.
LEE & SHEPARD,... Publishers.
Sophie May's Popular Series.
LITTLE PRUDY STORIES.
Six Volumes.
ILLUSTRATED.
COMPRISING:
Little Prudy.
Little Prudy's Sister Susie.
Little Prudy's Capt. Horace.
Little Prudy's Cousin Grace.
Little Prudy's Story Book.
Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple.
Price per Volume, 75 cents.
Read the high commendation of the North American Review, which places this series at the
Head of Juvenile Literature.
"Genius comes in with 'Little Prudy.' Compared with her, all other book-children are cold creations of Literature only; she alone is the real thing. All the quaintness of childhood, its originality, its tenderness and its teasing,—its infinite, unconscious drollery, the serious earnestness of its fun, the fun of its seriousness, the natural religion of its plays, and the delicious oddity of its prayers,—all these waited for dear Little Prudy to embody them. Sam Weller is not more piquant; Hans Andersen's nutcrackers and knitting-needles are not more thoroughly charged with life. Who is our benefactress in the authorship of these books the world knows not. Sophie May must doubtless be a fancy name, by reason of the spelling, and we have only to be grateful that the author did not inflict on us the customary alliteration in her pseudonyme. The rare gift of delineating childhood is hers, and may the line of 'Little Prudy' go out to the end of the earth.... To those oversaturated with transatlantic traditions, we recommend a course of 'Little Prudy.'"
Copies of any of the above books sent by mail on receipt of price.
LEE AND SHEPARD,
PUBLISHERS,
149 Washington Street, Boston.
MRS. LESLIE'S JUVENILE SERIES,
FOR BOYS.
Put up in a neat box. Price $6.00 a set, or $1.50 a vol. Comprising
The Motherless Children.
A thrilling story of orphanage, illustrating the trials and temptations of the young, and the happy results of Christian nurture.
Howard and His Teacher;
With the Sister's Influence, and other Stories.
An illustration of the different modes of home-government with their results.
Play and Study.
An interesting story of school-days, very suggestive of practical hints to parents and teachers, and of the manner in which they may aid their children and pupils in the invention of their own amusements, for their relief and stimulus in study.
Jack the Chimney-Sweeper,
And other Stories for Youth.
This charming book is a most happy illustration of the duties enjoined in the Commandments, and in other precepts of Scripture, but is entirely free from all denominational bias.
Each volume handsomely illustrated, bound in good style and distinct from the others.
LEE & SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON.
MRS. LESLIE'S JUVENILE SERIES
FOR GIRLS.
Put up in a neat box. Price $6.00 a set, or $1.50 a vol. Comprising
Little Agnes.
This little book is an entertaining and instructive story of a girl whose patience, industry, and fidelity raised her to eminence, honor, and happiness.
Trying to be Useful.
A narrative showing the happy results of worthy resolution and endeavor.
I'll Try.
An exhibition of the successful reward of perseverance to the acquisition of fortune and fame.
Art and Artlessness.
In this admirable volume the virtues which adorn female loveliness appear in bold and enviable contrast with the arts of coquetry and deception.
The above elegant series have been recently issued, and are written in an attractive style, and calculated to interest the young. A sound moral tone pervades each volume, and in point of interest and instruction they are unsurpassed by any series published. Each volume contains, on an average, 260 pages, 16mo, is elegantly illustrated, bound in muslin, and entirely distinct from the rest.
LEE & SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON.