II.
THE BATTLE OF FIRE ISLAND.
The "Franklin," on leaving Fire Island, where she had communication with the shore, stood to the westward. At 3 p.m. the mast-head look-out reported a large steamer on the port bow. As is customary on vessels at sea, the "Franklin" showed no colors; the stranger displayed a flag which could not be made out.
On the poop-deck of the "Franklin" were Admiral Rowan, Captain Greer, commanding the ship, and the executive officer, Lieutenant-Commander Jewell.
"Mast-head, there! can you make out her colors yet?" hailed the latter.
"No, sir."
"Take your glass and go aloft, Mr. Rodgers," said Admiral Rowan to his aid; "perhaps you can see better."
The officer rapidly ascended the rigging to the foretopmast cross-trees.
"It is the English flag, sir!" he shouted.
"Hoist English colors, Captain," said the admiral, quietly; "and bend on our own, ready to go up."
The red cross of St. George, the British man-of-war flag, rose slowly to the peak.
The stranger was seen to alter her course, and head for the "Franklin."
The admiral turned to Captain Greer and nodded. The latter gave an order to a midshipman standing near.
Rat-tat—rat-tat—rat-tat-tat-tat!
The quick drum-beat to quarters for action rang sharply through the ship. The executive officer took his speaking-trumpet and stationed himself on the quarter-deck. The men sprang to their guns.
"Silence! man the port-guns. Cast loose and provide!"
A momentary confusion, as the thirty-eight nine-inch smooth-bore guns on the main-deck, the four hundred-pound rifles on the spar-deck, and the eleven-inch pivot on the forecastle were cleared of their tackle, and got ready for training. The guns' crews then stood erect and silent in their places beside the guns, on the side of the ship turned toward the enemy.
Meanwhile the magazine had been opened, and the powder-boys flocked to the scuttles, receiving cartridges in the leather boxes slung to their shoulders. Shell were hoisted from below. The surgeon and his assistants, including the chaplain, laid out instruments, and converted the cock-pit into an operating-room. The fires in the galley were put out, and those under the boilers urged to their fiercest heat. The decks were sanded, in grim anticipation of their becoming slippery with blood. Tackles and slings were prepared to lower the wounded below. The Gatling guns aloft were made ready to fire upon the enemy's decks, in case the two vessels came near enough together.
"Prime!" shouted the officer on the quarter-deck. Primers were placed in the vents of the already loaded guns, and the gun-captains stepped back, tautening the lock-strings, and bending down to glance along the sights.
"Point! Tell the division officers to train on the craft that's coming, and wait orders." This last command to a midshipman aid.
The silence throughout the great ship was profound. The gun-captains eyed the approaching vessels over the sights of their guns. Only the quick throb of the engines and the sough of the waves were audible.
The two vessels were now within some four miles of each other. There was no question but that the stranger was a man-of-war—and an ironclad, at that—provided with a formidable ram.
"I thought so," suddenly ejaculated the admiral: "Now show him who we are."
The English flag had been replaced by the red-yellow-and-red bars of Spain. Down came the red cross from the peak of the "Franklin;" and then, not only there, but from every mast-head, floated the stars and stripes.
A puff of smoke from the Spaniard—a whirr, a shriek, and a solid shot struck the water, having passed entirely over the American frigate.
"He fires at long range!" remarked the admiral, calmly.
"It would be useless for us to reply," answered the captain.
"Clearly so."
"Shall we stop and wait for him, sir?"
"Wait for him? No! Go for him! Four bells, sir! Ring four bells and go ahead fast!"
The clang of the engine-bell resounded through the ship; the thump of the machinery grew more rapid; the whole vessel thrilled and shook, as if eager for the attack.
The distance between the two ships was reduced to about two miles.
Again the Spaniard fired. The shot struck the "Franklin" broad on her port-bow, knocked over a gun, killed six men, and passed through the other side of the ship.
Still the "Franklin" pressed on.
Crash! a huge shell from an Armstrong eighteen-ton gun burst between the fore and mainmasts; the bow pivot-gun was dismounted; ten men of her crew down; the maintopmast stays cut, and the maintopmast tottering. Crash! Another shell, and the jib-boom hangs dragging under the bows; the fore topgallantmast is carried away. Men hacked at the rigging to clear away the wreck which now impeded the ship's advance.
"Now let him have it," said the admiral, quietly.
The captain speaks to the executive officer, who shouts through his trumpet: "Port guns! Ready! Fire!!"
The concussion of the explosion made the ship stagger for a moment.
When the smoke cleared away, the Spaniard's mizzenmast was seen dragging overboard; but otherwise no damage had been inflicted.
"His armor is too thick for us," gravely remarked the admiral; "get boom torpedoes over the bows!"
"All ready, now, sir," reported the captain.
"Continue firing, and keep right for him."
"Shall we ram him, sir?"
"Yes, sir; as straight amidships as you can."
The "Franklin" now poured in her fire with all possible rapidity; but it was evident that her shot made little or no impression on the massive iron shield of her antagonist, although it played havoc amid his rigging. Another fact now became apparent—that the Spaniard was much the faster vessel of the two; for he was evidently nearing the "Franklin" more quickly than the "Franklin" was approaching him.
"Do you know who that ship is?" asked the admiral.
"The 'Numancia,' sir," replied the captain; "her armament is immensely better than ours. She has twenty-five Armstrong guns."
Crash! crash! Two more shells struck the wooden hull of the "Franklin" between the fore and mainmasts, tearing a great rent in her side and literally annihilating the crews of four guns.
"There is three feet of water in the hold, sir and it is gaining!" shouted the carpenter at the pump-well.
Men were sent at once to the pumps.
Crash! This time a double explosion, followed by dense clouds of steam.
Men, scalded and horribly burned, climbed up the ladders from below.
"Our boilers are gone," reported the captain.
"Keep her broadside toward the enemy, sir," returned the admiral.
The guns of the "Franklin" were now firing slowly. Their smoke overhung the vessel so that the Spaniard could not be seen, but the reports of his cannon sounded closer and closer.
Suddenly the huge prow of the "Numancia" loomed up close aboard the
"Franklin."
"Starboard! Hard a starboard!" shouted the admiral.
It was too late. There was no one at the helm. A shell, bursting close to the wheel, had killed the helmsman, and a fragment had buried itself in the captain's breast.
The admiral himself turned to go toward the wheel, but suddenly staggered and pitched forward, dead.
Then came the frightful explosion of the "Numancia's" bow-torpedo, striking the ill-fated frigate; and then the crushing and splintering of timbers under the fearful stroke of the ram.
Five minutes afterwards the Spanish war-ship was alone. Slowly the "Franklin" sank—her lofty mast-heads going under with the stars and stripes still proudly floating from them. The "Numancia" lowered her boats to pick up survivors. They returned with one officer and two seamen—all that remained of the crew of nearly one thousand souls.
The American flag ship had been sunk by a fourth-rate European ironclad—the first practical proof of the miserably short-sighted policy of a nation of fifty millions of inhabitants, with an enormous coast line and innumerable ports to be protected, relying for its safety upon a navy the fifty-five available vessels of which are too slow to run away, and too lightly armed and too weakly built to defend themselves.
The "Numancia" hoisted her boats and stood to the westward. Shortly afterward she exchanged signals with the "Zaragoza," "Arapiles" and "Vittoria." The war-vessels drew together, the transports came alongside of them, and fresh supplies of coal and provisions were delivered. Then the transports headed to the south, and the men-of-war laid their course for New York.