On the third day came the final test. The brave Confederate General Pickett led many thousands of soldiers over an open plain in a most desperate charge to break the Union center. On, on they came, their ranks now torn through and through by Union shot and shell, but still on they charged. Drawing nearer, up they rushed to the Union line with the familiar Southern yell, and with frantic fury dashed upon our firm-set ranks. Our men wavered with the mighty shock and for a moment fell back, but instantly rallied with the Union cheer.

In the furious onset and the hand-to-hand fight, friend and foe fell by thousands. But the charging battalions were shattered, crushed, driven back, melting away under the concentrated fire, and only some few fragments of all that vast column straggled back over the field of death.

Lee was baffled, defeated; the Union was safe. The invaders, with that vast army that came with stately pride, went back to Virginia with sorrowing memories of the direst disaster of the war. Never again did a large Confederate force hazard a march into the North. After Gettysburg there was little hope of Confederate triumph.

314. Memorials of the Victory.—Gettysburg was a costly victory. Over that broad area of the three days' battles, strewn through wood and meadow, on field and hill, lay the bodies of thousands of soldiers. One-third of Lee's entire army, and about a fourth of the Union forces, had been killed or wounded. The arena of fiercest fighting in the third day's final charge is now marked by a suitable monument, which bears upon a bronze tablet an inscription that indicates the historical importance of the spot.

Upon opposite columns are also inscribed the names of the officers who led the surging columns of gray, and the names of those officers who held firm the impregnable walls of blue.

The whole field of battle, covering several square miles, is dotted with hundreds of similar memorials of many varieties. These monuments have been erected year after year by the survivors or by their friends. They indicate the positions held by regiments, brigades, and divisions, where desperate charges and equally desperate repulses occurred, or where gallant officers fell.

315. Lincoln's Masterly Address at Gettysburg.—In November, 1863, the central portion of the battlefield was set apart as a National Cemetery and dedicated with solemn ceremonies. The most important of these was the notably eloquent address by President Lincoln, which has passed into history as an event hardly less memorable than the great conflict itself. Perhaps in no language, ancient or modern, are any words found more comprehensive and eloquent than this brief speech.

Time has tested the strength of this short, simple address. After more than a quarter of a century it is still as familiar as household words.

316. Success of General Grant in the West.—Let us now read about a few of the great events of the war in the West during the first half of the year 1863. Here General Grant was the central figure of important military operations. He had already become prominent by the brilliant campaigns we have mentioned. His remarkable career furnishes one of the many examples of great men coming up from obscure and unpromising conditions of life.

He was born in Ohio in 1822, and received a military education at West Point. He was a successful officer in the Mexican War, having been engaged in nearly all the battles of the war, where he manifested conspicuous bravery. Returning from Mexico, he engaged a while in farming, but with discouraging results. Evidently it was not his vocation.

When the Civil War opened, Grant was employed at a small salary in his father's leather store in Galena, Illinois. He at once offered the governor his services, and was appointed a colonel of an Illinois regiment. He rose rapidly to conspicuous positions.

317. Capture of Vicksburg.—General Grant, after defeating the Confederates at the battle of Shiloh, and driving them south to Corinth, followed them to Vicksburg. This was a stronghold from which they seemed to defy every effort to dislodge them.

The city stands on a high bluff some two hundred feet above the Mississippi, and as there were heavy batteries all along the river front and on the hillsides, Grant could not attack the city with his gunboats. On the north there were miles of swamps and creeks, so that he could not approach on that side. On the east the city was heavily fortified with cannon.

President Lincoln and the country expected General Grant to capture Vicksburg. What could he do? Witness his superb generalship!

He first protected against cannon shot a number of gunboats and steamers by means of bales of hay, and planned to run them past eight miles of batteries one dark night in April. This movement was so perilous that officers would not order their men to go, but called for volunteers. So many were eager to go that lots were drawn for a chance. One soldier refused one hundred dollars for his place.

Soon as the watchful Confederates sighted the first boat of the grim procession, they opened a deafening cannonade, and started a series of bonfires that lighted up all the miles of that voyage of death. Some of the transports were destroyed, but enough got through to answer the general's purpose.

Next Grant ferried his army across the river some miles below Vicksburg, and fought and defeated General Pemberton's troops, which had moved down to meet him. Then, learning that General Johnston was coming to attack him, he marched up between the two armies. On his east side he met Johnston's army and defeated it. Thence he turned west and drove Pemberton again, and the next day routed him once more and drove his entire army into Vicksburg.

Commodore Porter's gunboats now threw huge shells into the doomed city from the river and Grant's army bombarded it on the east. It was an awful siege. No building was safe. The people lived in caves dug in the sides of the hills. Food was so scarce that mules, cats, dogs, and rats were devoured. At last, after seven weeks of siege, Pemberton, on July 4, surrendered his entire army of about thirty thousand men, the largest force captured during the war.

These two great victories, at Gettysburg and at Vicksburg, one in the East, the other in the West, both won at the same time, gave new hope to the Union cause. The Confederacy was at last cut in two, for the Mississippi River was open in its entire length, and its waters, in Mr. Lincoln's words, "flowed unvexed to the sea."

From this eventful Fourth of July in 1863 the strength of the Confederacy began to decay. There was little hope for its final success after this time. All its future contests only delayed the inevitable end.

318. Two Other Important Victories in the West.—In September occurred the severe battle of Chickamauga, where the Union army would probably have been utterly defeated but for the valor of General Thomas, who thus won for himself the name of the "Rock of Chickamauga." Late in November the Union army was shut in at Chattanooga by the ever alert Confederates, and was relieved only by General Grant's skillful planning and hard fighting.

This battle was fought on a cold, drizzly day. The fog, settling on the valley and sides of Lookout Mountain, up which our brave boys climbed, covered the lower part of the advancing army so that only the upper lines were visible. This brilliant victory is popularly known as "the Battle above the Clouds." These movements ended the army operations of 1863.

319. Sherman's Famous March to the Sea.—The year 1864 saw two great movements, both planned by General Grant, who had now been called by President Lincoln to come to Washington and take control of all the armies of the Republic. One was his own advance against Richmond, and the other General Sherman's famous "March to the Sea."

General W. T. Sherman, a brilliant officer and General Grant's dear comrade and lifelong friend, had driven his opponents southward and captured Atlanta. General Hood then very boldly but injudiciously led a Confederate army up to Nashville, where General Thomas attacked and utterly defeated him.

Meanwhile Sherman had begun his celebrated march to the sea. Having burned the mills, foundries, and workshops at Atlanta which had been of great value to the Confederates, he started in November with an army of sixty thousand on a three-hundred-mile expedition to the Atlantic! They marched on three and sometimes four parallel roads, foraging on the country, destroying railroads, burning bridges, and devastating a belt of territory from forty to sixty miles wide. Our army was followed by thousands of negroes, enjoying their new freedom.

In December Sherman reached the sea and telegraphed to President Lincoln the capture of Savannah as a Christmas present! Resting there, he then marched his conquering legions north, through both Carolinas, up to Goldsboro, having met and defeated Johnston's army at several points along the way. He was now able to aid General Grant, whose campaign against Richmond we must now consider.

320. Grant's Advance on Richmond; Lee's Surrender at Appomattox.—Early in May, Grant had started with a hundred and twenty thousand men on his advance against Richmond. He pushed his work with great vigor, fighting almost daily, but after every battle flanking Lee's right, and thus working constantly southward. It was a series of bloody battles, and the slaughter was enormous; but such is war. He continued slowly advancing all summer, and in the fall of 1864 began the siege of Richmond.

Finally, in April, 1865, General Sheridan had cut the last of the railroads supplying the Confederate capital. Then with Grant's army on one side and Sheridan's on the other, the Confederacy quickly collapsed. Jefferson Davis fled and a panic seized upon the people in the doomed city, while fire and havoc ran riot. The Union army soon marched in and restored order.

One week later Lee surrendered his whole army at Appomattox. General Grant treated his fallen foes with great generosity, requiring only the oath of officers and men not to fight further against the United States. The victorious general permitted all the men to keep their horses, to enable them, as he said, "to do their spring plowing on their farms."

321. The Story of Sheridan's Famous Ride.—Read's stirring poem, "Sheridan's Ride," has always been a favorite, for it records in verse the gallant deed of one of the most brilliant generals in the war for the Union. In the early fall of 1864 Grant sent General Sheridan with a large force of cavalry to lay waste the Shenandoah Valley. Sheridan did the work so well that it was said, "If a crow wants to fly down the valley, he must carry his provisions with him."

The story runs as follows:—

One morning in October the Confederates approached under cover of a fog and surprised the Union forces at Cedar Creek and put them to flight. Sheridan was then at Winchester, twenty miles away, slowly riding back to join his army. A messenger met him with the bad news. On his famous black horse he dashed forward at full speed down that "good broad highway, as with eagle flight," towards the line of battle. As he came nearer he met the first of the fugitives and rallied them with fierce and forcible words. At once they were as eager to fight again as they had been ready to fly.

A brave nucleus of the army which had not shared in the surprise was fighting with determined pluck to prevent disaster from becoming disgrace. Men said, "Oh for one hour of Sheridan!" All at once a deafening cheer was heard above the roar of musketry and artillery as the tired men recognized the long-looked-for Sheridan. The news flashed from brigade to brigade along the front with telegraphic speed. As the gallant general, cap in hand, dashed along the retreating lines, a continuous cheer burst from the whole army.

The entire aspect of affairs seemed changed in a moment. Further retreat was no longer thought of. "This retreat must be stopped!" shouted Sheridan to his officers as he galloped down the lines. The line of battle was speedily re-formed; the retreating army turned its face to the foe.

The ranks of the Confederates swayed and broke everywhere before the charge of the Union cavalry and the impetuous advance of the infantry. They were completely defeated, with the loss of many prisoners, and nearly all of their guns.

Sheridan's ride to the front, October 19, 1864, has passed into history as one of the most thrilling events that have ever given interest to a battle scene. Stripped of all poetic gloss, the result achieved by Sheridan's superb generalship, after reaching his shattered army on the field of Cedar Creek, still stands, with few if any parallels in history, as an illustration of the magnetic influence of one man over many, and as an example of snatching a great victory from an appalling defeat.

322. Death of Lincoln.—Wild was the delight of the country when peace came. There were public meetings, processions, bonfires, every possible display of universal joy!

Suddenly, like a total eclipse at noonday, came the darkness of a great sorrow. Abraham Lincoln, the great and good President, whose heart had bled for the nation's suffering, who had never held a trace of bitter feeling towards the South, was shot down by an assassin!

Instantly the nation was plunged into the deepest sorrow; joy ended in grief, delight was turned to mourning. Ninety thousand Union soldiers had been slain, but this last sacrifice overshadowed all. Never before was a great nation shrouded in a sorrow so deep. Thousands mourned, as for the loss of a personal friend.

The people hardly realized till his death the greatness of this man, the hero of the mighty struggle by which the Union was saved. From that day to this, the admiration and love, not only of the nation but of all mankind, have been increasing for the great and kind-hearted man, the wise leader, the blameless President,—Abraham Lincoln.

323. The Cost of the War.—The cost of the four years' war was something tremendous. At the close of the strife the total debt was about three thousand millions of dollars! This, however, was but a small part of the loss.

The cost in human life can never be estimated in money. The area fought over was so large that there was fighting somewhere almost every day! The number of battles, great and small, was more than two thousand! The total Union loss of men killed in battle and of those who died of wounds and disease was not less than three hundred and sixty thousand. The number of enlisted soldiers on the Union side was over two and a half millions.

324. Grand Review of Troops at Washington.—At the close of the war a grand review of Union troops was held at Washington. These comprised the army of the Potomac, commanded by General Meade in person, and Sherman's army fresh from its march to the sea. These battle-scarred veterans, perhaps one-fifth of all the Union soldiers who had tramped and fought for years, now passed in review, bearing aloft the tattered and shot-torn flags around which they had rallied on many a battlefield. The two days were beautiful and the sight was superb.

The National Capital was full of strangers in holiday dress, and every house was decorated with flags. For two days the two armies marched in close column around the Capitol, down Pennsylvania Avenue, past the President and cabinet, who occupied a large stand prepared for the occasion in front of the White House. On the second day it took six hours and a half for Sherman's magnificent army of sixty-five thousand sunburnt veterans to march in solid columns in review before the President.

This grand review was a fitting conclusion to the war. The million men who were still in arms at the close of the war, old comrades of camp and field, shook hands and parted, each to his home, where mother or sister or wife or children or other dear ones awaited the long-absent soldier.

325. The Country after the War.—The war proved beyond all question that the American Republic is a nation, not a league, and it rid it also of human slavery. It took, of course, a long time for the bitter feeling on both sides to die away. More than a generation has passed since the great Civil War desolated our fair land. The people of to-day have little cause to recall its sufferings and horrors.

How dear to the hearts of the American people are the familiar ceremonies of Memorial Day! What more impressive object lesson could our children have than to see the gray-haired veterans marching with thinner ranks and more faltering steps, on this sacred anniversary!

CHAPTER XXV.

OUR NAVY IN THE WAR FOR THE UNION.

It was in reference to such a piece of transfer that the Secretary of the Treasury, John A. Dix, sent to New Orleans that famous telegram which thrilled the whole North:—

"If any one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot!"

Great was the peril. More vessels must be had, and that at once. The seventeen warships in foreign ports were called home, scores of steamers were bought and dozens were built as quickly as possible.

327. Urgent Need of Vessels to blockade Southern Ports.—One of the most urgent needs for a navy was to blockade the Southern ports. This was to be done by stationing well-armed ships near the mouth of every harbor to seize any vessel trying to get out with a cargo of cotton, or to capture any ship coming in with supplies. "Running" this blockade was a profitable but dangerous business.

But we can judge whether our gallant navy did its duty in watching the eighteen hundred miles of Southern coast line, if we remember that during the four years of the war the Union blue-jackets captured or destroyed over fifteen hundred blockade runners—more than one a day.

328. Naval Operations on the Western Rivers.—The Confederates had fortified many cities and important bluffs along the Mississippi River and its branches, and had built many heavy gunboats. Our government had at first not a single gunboat to meet them. Something must be done very soon. In less than a hundred days there were built at St. Louis, from the keel up, with powerful engines, heavy armor plate, and cannon, eight powerful gunboats, all ready for action. These ironclads, with some mortar boats, did effective service at the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson, of Columbus, Memphis, and Vicksburg, and all along the rivers.

329. How New Orleans was protected against an Attack by the Union Forces.—While the Union ironclads were fighting farther north along the Mississippi and other large rivers, Commodore Farragut was doing valiant work below New Orleans. This city was protected by two strong forts.

Just below the forts there stretched from each bank towards the middle a big boom of logs. The space in the middle of the river between the ends of the booms was filled with hulks of old ships, first firmly anchored, then heavily chained to each other, and lashed to the booms with huge cables, making almost a bridge. Above this formidable barrier was a fleet of iron rams and gunboats.

Besides all this, there were a number of fire rafts, loaded with cotton and hay, ready to be set in a blaze and float down on any Union craft that would dare to come up. How was it possible for the Union vessels to force their way up the river in the face of these obstructions?

330. Farragut prepares for the Attack.—Farragut had about fifty vessels all told: frigates, ships, sloops, gunboats, and mortar vessels. He anchored the mortar boats around a point of land nearly two miles below the forts, and dressed them with evergreens and foliage of trees disguising their position. Then the great thirteen-inch bombs burst inside and around the forts all day, all night, for six days.

Meanwhile two small gunboats went one night up to the chained hulks to break the barrier; and though detected and fired on, the officers worked calmly and persistently. They contrived to get a gunboat through, then steamed up the river, turned and rushed down on the cable with such force as to break it! Daylight showed a wide opening for the Union fleet.

331. The Grand Work done by Farragut and his Fleet.—The next morning at two o'clock, April 24, 1862, the fleet steamed up. The forts fired and the ships fired, but the fleet kept moving in the darkness. Soon one passed through, then another, the swift ones dashing ahead.

But the flagship Hartford, on which was Farragut, having passed through, turned aside to avoid a blazing fire raft, when she ran aground! Then the Confederates, seeing the Hartford stuck fast, pushed a fire raft up against it. Instantly the flames flashed along the rigging and the ports, the big guns of the fort meanwhile pounding her. But the gun crews kept working their cannon as steadily as if on practice, and the rest fought the flames, and soon subdued them. The flagship was saved. Other ships passed up, all fighting, some surviving by hairbreadth escapes; a few were lost.

When the morning sun rose, the astounding work had been done, the gates of fire had been passed, and the Union fleet under Farragut was triumphant. New Orleans was captured and the control of the river secured nearly up to Vicksburg.

332. The Merrimac and the Monitor.—When the war for the Union began, and just before the Confederates seized the navy yard at Norfolk, the commanding officer there contrived to burn or sink all the ships; but the best one, the Merrimac, was soon raised and rebuilt as a powerful ironclad.

When the fine old frigate had been remodeled her entire appearance was changed. She had no longer the appearance of a ship, but seemed like a house afloat. The story is told that an old sailor on board the Cumberland, who first sighted her, reported gravely to the officer of the deck, "Quaker meeting-house floating down the bay, sir."

In anticipation of what harm it might do, the government engaged Captain Ericsson, a Swedish inventor in New York, to build as quickly as possible, after his own plans, an ironclad, a new and very odd-shaped kind of warship—the now famous Monitor. The construction was pushed day and night without an hour of delay.

333. Attack of the Merrimac on the Union Fleet.—Before long the dreaded Merrimac was finished, and on March 8, 1862, the ponderous black monster steamed slowly out to attack the Union ships in Hampton Roads. She made straight for the fine frigate Cumberland, the solid shot of whose broadside fell like pebbles into the sea from the slopes of the huge ironclad. On, on came the ponderous monster, and crashing into the wooden side of the Cumberland, opened a hole "wide as a church door." The sinking ship went down with her flag flying and her guns booming to the last!

Next the Merrimac attacked the Congress, whose captain and three-fourths of her crew were killed or wounded. Hot shot were used, which soon set the Congress in a blaze. Then the ironclad, as if she had done enough for one day, went grimly back to Norfolk, intending to continue her destruction the next day.

Everywhere in that region is alarm. The shores are thronged with anxious thousands. The city of Washington is almost in a panic. The grim monster may steam up here on the next day, and hurl its exploding shells into the Capitol or the White House. Philadelphia, Baltimore, and all the seacoast cities of the country are exposed to destruction. What is to be done? Can the danger be averted?

334. Timely Arrival of the Monitor.—That very night, as if by a special providence, the Monitor arrived from New York! Early next morning, when the naval Goliath of yesterday came out in his iron armor, victorious and confident, a young David stood up to defy him!

A strange craft indeed was the Monitor. Her rail was but little above the water, and nothing was to be seen on her deck but a kind of round iron box in the middle, a pilot house forward, and a small smokestack aft. At a mile's distance she might be taken for a raft. Indeed, the Confederates well described her when they called her a "Yankee cheese-box on a raft."

335. Famous Battle between the Monitor and the Merrimac.—It was a Sunday morning, and the sun rose in a cloudless sky. The batteries on both sides of the bay were crowded with men waiting for the coming contest. At the first sign of life on board the Merrimac, the Monitor began her preparations for the battle.

Slowly the Confederate ram came down the bay. She opened fire on the Minnesota, which was still aground. The frigate responded with a mighty broadside, but the cannon balls rattled off the iron flanks of the huge ram like so many peas. Clearly everything depended upon the little Monitor.

The battle now began, and the huge shells and heavy shot crashed like loudest thunder. It was a strange, an awful battle. At times the two vessels were in actual contact. The dense smoke, the deafening roar of explosions, the shouts of officers' orders, the crews often hurled off their feet by the terrific blows smiting the iron armor—all made it beyond description fearfully sublime. The Merrimac's plates were split and torn. One shot, entering her port, did terrible havoc.

Just as Lieutenant Worden of the Monitor was looking through the slit in the turret to take aim, a shell struck outside and filled his face and eyes with powder and iron splinters! He was insensible for some time.

When he came to himself, his first question was, "Have I saved the Minnesota?"

"Yes," was the reply, "and whipped the Merrimac."

"Then I don't care what becomes of me," he answered.

After more than three hours of this frightful combat, the humbled Merrimac steamed back to Norfolk, the victorious little Monitor giving a series of farewell shots as she sailed away.

Thus ended this marvelous battle, the first in the world's history between ironclad vessels. All Washington retired to sleep that night with a sense of relief, for it seemed as if the nation had been saved.

The brave Worden shortly after the famous battle went to Washington. President Lincoln was at a cabinet meeting when he heard of the lieutenant's arrival. He rose hastily and said, "Gentlemen, I must go to that fellow."

When Lincoln entered his room, Worden was lying on a sofa with his eyes and head heavily bandaged.

"Mr. President," said he, "you do me great honor by this visit."

"Sir," said Mr. Lincoln, with tears in his eyes, "I am the one who is honored by this interview."

336. Confederate Privateers attack Union Merchantmen.—When the North began blockading the Southern ports, the South of course used all its energies to break the blockade by aiding ships to pass in or out, and also to destroy our commerce wherever it might be found.

The first craft that went out on this errand of destruction was an ocean steamer then at New Orleans. It had been speedily altered into a warship and named the Sumter. She slipped through the blockade in June, 1861, and did a lively business capturing and burning our merchantmen.

Then the South, as it had no navy of its own, had to seek aid abroad. England seemed to be very willing that her shipbuilders should furnish ships for the use of the Confederacy in seizing and destroying Union vessels.

The first of the cruisers secretly built in a British shipyard to destroy our commerce was the Florida. She burned or sank over forty vessels before she was captured.

337. The Famous Alabama makes Sad Havoc.—The Alabama was the most famous of the Confederate cruisers. She was built under false pretenses and with a false name, in an English port, of English material, armed with English cannon, and manned by English sailors.

The Alabama, once fairly at sea under Captain Semmes, skillfully avoided our men-of-war sent to capture her, and continued in her two years' cruise till she had burned or captured sixty-seven of our merchant ships.

338. The Alabama destroyed by the Kearsarge.—At last the Alabama went into the harbor of Cherbourg, in France. Captain Winslow of the United States warship Kearsarge, then searching for her, heard of this and at once challenged her, and then waited outside. On the nineteenth day of June, 1864, the Alabama was compelled by law to leave the port. The battle began, and was watched by thousands from the shores.

The Kearsarge swept around in great circles, compelling the Alabama, about half a mile distant, to do the same. The men on the Alabama fired fast and wild. Their shots flew over, or fell short; but the Kearsarge fired carefully and with true aim. Nearer drew the Kearsarge, circling still. Its two eleven-inch guns made frightful havoc, tearing great rents in the Alabama's sides. She was sinking, and started for the shore. Winslow now steamed in front and headed her off. Then down came the Confederate flag.

Soon the far-famed and dreaded cruiser sank to her watery grave. The names Winslow and Kearsarge long rang through this country with plaudits of enthusiastic praise.

"I would rather have fought that fight," said brave old Admiral Farragut, "than any ever fought on the ocean."

339. England pays for the Damage done by the Alabama.—After the war England refused for years to make compensation for the damage the Alabama had done to our commerce. But seeing that the same course might some day injure herself, and sensible of the injustice, she at last consented to make amends. In 1872 a Board of Arbitrators met at Geneva, and agreeably to its decision "John Bull" promptly paid $15,500,000 to "Uncle Sam" to distribute among those who had suffered by the depredations.

340. Preparations for the Capture of Mobile.—In the summer of 1864 a prominent Southern port, Mobile, was yet uncaptured. Its defenses were strong. Two splendid forts stood sentry at the gateway. Long lines of piles narrowed the channel to about three hundred feet, and a triple row of torpedoes threatened any approach. In the harbor the Confederates had a small fleet of gunboats and one tremendous ram, the Tennessee.

Admiral Farragut determined to capture Mobile. He had four monitors and fourteen wooden ships. All the preparations were made with the utmost care. The officers and men of the fleet regarded the admiral with staunch loyalty and absolute trust. The attack was made early on the morning of August 5.

341. Farragut's Crowning Victory at Mobile.—The fleet passing through the channel, rained shot and shell so furiously upon the forts that the Confederates could not well serve their guns. But our finest ironclad, the Tecumseh, was struck by a torpedo, and she sank with over a hundred of her brave men!

Her captain, the gallant Craven, was at the time in the pilot-house with the pilot. As the huge ironclad lurched heavily over and began to sink, both rushed to the narrow door, but there was only room for one to pass at a time. Craven stepped to one side, saying, "After you, pilot." The pilot leaped to a place of safety, but the noble captain went to the bottom in his iron coffin.

The fleet now fought a desperate battle with the Confederate ironclads. The armored vessels were soon sunk or scattered. The Tennessee tried to ram our ships, but with little success. Then our ironclads gathered around our "wooden walls," steamed straight for the ram, and there was fought one of the most desperate naval fights of the war.

Sharpshooters fired into the ram's ports, our ships successively poured in a terrific fire, and hammered at close range with huge solid shot and fifteen-inch bolts of iron, till the white flag went up, and once more the stars and stripes waved triumphantly over the harbor of Mobile.

Thus ended the battle of Mobile Bay,—one of the most brilliant naval contests of modern times,—Farragut's crowning victory. Three hours elapsed from the time the first gun was fired until the great ram hauled down the Confederate flag.

The port of Mobile was thenceforward closed against blockade runners, and the last channel of communication between the Confederacy and the outside world was cut off.

342. Farragut in the Rigging during the Battle.—During the battle Farragut stood in the main rigging; but as the smoke increased he gradually climbed higher, until he was close by the maintop. The shots were flying thick and fast. There was great danger that he would lose his footing, and so the captain sent aloft one of the men with a rope who lashed him to the rigging so that he might not fall if wounded.

When Farragut saw the danger from the approaching Tennessee, as he stood tied to the rigging, he said to his signal officer, who was lashed to the other mast:—

"Can you signal, 'For Heaven's sake'?"

"I can signal anything," replied Kinney.

"Well, signal to all the fleet, 'For Heaven's sake, go for the ram!'"

The fact that the admiral was fastened to the main rigging during the greatest sea fight perhaps in our history gave him a unique reputation throughout the country. Farragut was amused and amazed at the notoriety of the incident.

When a picture of the scene in one of the illustrated papers came to hand a few days after the battle, the admiral said to one of his captains in conversation, "How curiously some trifling incident catches the popular fancy! My being in the main rigging was a mere incident, owing to the fact that I was driven aloft by the smoke. The lashing was the result of your own fears for my safety."

343. Cushing plans to destroy the Ironclad Albemarle.—One of the large sounds, or inland gulfs, on the coast of North Carolina was the scene of a great deal of blockade running during the war. The place needed constant watching by our ships.

But the chief cause of anxiety was a monster ironclad, the Albemarle, that the Confederates had built up the Roanoke River. She had sunk or disabled several Union gunboats. She had gone up the river to refit. The entrance to the sound was so shallow that none of our large warships could pass in.

Could anything be done to check the Albemarle? Lieutenant Cushing, only twenty-one, but a most daring naval officer, said, "Yes, there could!" His plan was to steal carefully up by night, seize the huge ironclad and bring it away, if possible, or else blow it up. The river was guarded on both banks, and the ram itself was watched by special sentries. No matter for that; he would go. He obtained a noiseless steam launch, and rigged a torpedo on the end of a long spar, turning on a hinge at its side. The crew of the launch consisted of fifteen men, with Cushing in command.

344. Cushing's Plan Successful; Destruction of the Albemarle.—One dark rainy night Cushing steamed in his little torpedo boat up the river. They passed all the river guards undiscovered. A camp-fire on the bank near the ironclad showed to him, as he stood in the bow of his boat, the dark outlines of the monster. He steamed on softly. Just then a dog barked! Then guards sprang up and fired. The big bell on the ram clanged its alarm, lights flashed on the water and shots hissed all around the launch.

The brave young officer saw that the ram was surrounded by a large raft of huge logs. Instantly his resolution was formed. He steamed off some distance to get a long run, then turned and rushed for the Albemarle. Shot whistled around him. On came his little craft, bumped upon the logs, crashed over them, and pushed up under the huge ram. Cushing now lowered his torpedo spar, calmly guided it into its place, pulled the fatal cord—crash! a roar of thunder!—and all was over. The great ironclad was a terror no longer.

345. Cushing reaches the Fleet in Safety.—Each man had to save himself as best he might. Cushing leaped into the water. After about an hour's swimming he reached the shore and fell exhausted upon the bank. He crept into a swamp for some distance, tearing his feet and hands with briers and oyster shells.

Next day he met an old negro whom he thought he could trust. The negro was frightened at Cushing's wild appearance and tremblingly asked who he was.

"I am a Yankee," replied Cushing, "and I am one of the men who blew up the Albemarle."

"My golly, massa!" said the negro; "dey kill you if dey catch you; you dead gone, sure!"

Cushing gave the negro all the money he had to go into the town and learn the news.

After a time the negro came back, and, to Cushing's joy, reported the Albemarle sunk. At last the intrepid officer found a boat and paddled for eight hours until he reached the Union squadron. After hailing one of the vessels, he fell into the bottom of the boat, utterly exhausted by hunger, cold, fatigue, and excitement.

Lieutenant Cushing, to whose intrepidity and skill the country was indebted for this and many other bold exploits, was engaged in thirty-five naval combats during the war. What a record for a young man of twenty-three! He died at thirty-two, the youngest officer of his rank in the United States Navy. One of our finest torpedo boats, which did good service during the Spanish-American war, is well named "The Cushing."

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE WAR WITH SPAIN IN 1898.

347. Spain's Cruel Policy towards her Colonies.—For the most part Spain ruled her colonies with shocking oppression. Her policy was to extort all possible gain from them to her own selfish profit. She retained to the last the barbarous methods of less civilized centuries. Finally, after long years of oppression, the South American colonies began to cut loose from her tyrannical sway.

In a few years Spain was stripped of all her possessions in America, excepting only her islands in the West Indies.

348. Cuba rebels against Spanish Oppression.—One would naturally suppose that these disastrous losses would have taught Spain to govern her only remaining American colonies, Cuba and Porto Rico, with more wisdom. But not so; she kept right on as before, growing worse, if possible, still clinging to the old policy of cruel oppression and merciless extortion.

Some thirty years ago a rebellion began in Cuba which lasted ten years. In vain Spain spent millions of money and sent thousands of soldiers to subdue it. Hundreds of Cubans were cast into prison to die of fever and starvation, and their property was confiscated.

349. Cuba again rebels against Spain in 1895.—In 1895 the long-suffering Cubans rose in rebellion again. Their army was larger, better furnished, and they gained possession of a much more extensive portion of the island.

Now Spain became really alarmed. She sent to Cuba a hundred and twenty thousand soldiers. They melted away, mostly from sickness and mismanagement, like frost in the morning sun. It was all in vain; for it was now plain that Spain could never conquer the Cubans, and just as evident that the Cubans unaided could never win their independence.

The war had already been barbarous enough, when the Spanish General Weyler set in operation his inhuman concentration plan. This meant the gathering up in the country districts of thousands of helpless old men, women, and children, and driving them to the towns and forts, where they were shut up like cattle in large enclosures, surrounded by a deep ditch and a barbed wire fence.

Along the line of the fence were frequent guardhouses, where soldiers with loaded guns prevented escape. The poor outcasts were crowded into wretched palm-leaf huts, with foul water and scanty food. It is said that in the island about four hundred thousand helpless people were herded in this way. They died by thousands.

350. The Barbarities in Cuba excite Great Indignation in this Country.—Now, all these horrors in Cuba aroused a great deal of indignation in this country and excited profound sympathy for the sufferers. Shiploads of provisions were sent by the Red Cross and other societies to relieve the starving thousands.

The feeling throughout this country at last came to be intense. For years and years past our people had watched the long struggle with the keenest interest. For years our presidents had protested to Spain against the useless warfare.

Now, when the real state of affairs in Cuba in 1897 became known, our government sent word to Spain that this slow starvation of helpless men, women, and children was not war, but savage barbarity, and must be stopped. In reply, Spain asked for some delay and promised milder measures.

351. The Battleship Maine blown up in Havana Harbor.—In order to protect American interests in Cuba, the battleship Maine was sent to Havana in January, 1898.

A calamity now occurred that shocked the world. On the evening of February 15 this magnificent ship, while at anchor in the harbor of Havana, was destroyed by an explosion. Two officers and two hundred and sixty-four American sailors were hurled to instant death!

The awful disaster sent a thrill of horror and indignation through our country. A court of inquiry was instantly appointed by President McKinley to investigate the matter and ascertain the cause. Meanwhile the country waited for forty days, with surprising patience, for the report, which came during the last of March, stating that the Maine had been blown up from the outside by the explosion of a submarine mine. Subsequent evidence before the Senate committee showed that the mine had been exploded by men who wore the uniform of Spain.

352. War declared against Spain.—Public feeling in our country grew more intense every hour. The President continued to do his utmost to avert war by peaceful and diplomatic methods. Thinking people knew well enough that such efforts would be in vain. It was evident that Spain would never grant independence to Cuba. It was also evident that the American people (from the moment they heard of the blowing up of the Maine) had made up their minds that the only real solution of the problem was to put an end forever to Spanish rule on this side of the Atlantic. This of course meant war.

Congress took the responsibility and declared war against Spain on April 21, 1898.

353. Dewey acts promptly and sails for Manila from Hong Kong.—The first step of our war with Spain was to send Commodore Sampson with a fleet to blockade the large seaports of Cuba. All eyes were turned to this island; for every one expected the war to begin there; but instantly the scene of action was shifted to the other side of the globe.