by John Coddington Kinney, first Lieutenant, 13TH Connecticut infantry, and Acting signal officer, U. S. A.
After the
Mississippi was opened in July, 1863, by the capture of
Vicksburg and the consequent surrender of
Port Hudson,
Admiral Farragut devoted a large share of his attention to the operations against
Mobile Bay.
He was aware that the
Confederates were actively engaged in the construction of rains and iron-clads at
Mobile and above, and it was his earnest desire to force the entrance into
Mobile Bay and capture the forts that guarded it, before the more powerful of the new vessels could be finished and brought down to aid in the defense.
In January, 1864, he made a reconnoissance of
Forts Gaines and
Morgan, at which time no Confederate vessels were in the lower bay, except one transport.
In letters to the Navy Department he urged that at least one iron-clad be sent to help his wooden fleet, and asked for the cooperation of a brigade of five thousand soldiers to enable him, after running into the bay, to reduce the forts at his leisure.
It is easy to see now the wisdom of his plan.
Had the operations against
Mobile been undertaken promptly, as he desired, the entrance into the bay would have been effected with much less cost of men and materials,
Mobile would have been captured a year earlier than it was, and the
Union cause would have been saved the disaster of the
Red River campaign of 1864.
At this late day it is but justice to
Farragut to admit the truth.
His position at the time was one of great anxiety.
He saw the ease with which the forts could be captured if a few thousand troops could be obtained
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to cooperate with his fleet.
He knew that the
Confederates were bending all their energies to the construction of three or more powerful rams, to meet which he had until late in the summer nothing but wooden vessels.
Every day was strengthening the
Confederate situation and making his own position more perilous.
With the necessary cooperation he would run inside the bay, prevent any iron-clads from crossing
Dog River bar (over which they had to be floated with “camels” ), put a stop to the planting of torpedoes, effectually prevent blockade-running, and easily capture the garrisons of the forts.
But, much to his regret, the army under
General Banks started up the
Red River, and he was left alone with his little fleet to watch the operations he could not prevent.
At last, about May 20th, the great ram
Tennessee made her appearance in the lower bay. Just before she arrived, and when it was known that
Admiral Buchanan was engaged in efforts to float the ram over the bar, eight miles up the bay,
Farragut wrote to
Secretary Welles:
I fully understand and appreciate my situation.
The experience I had of the fight between the Arkansas and Admiral Davis's vessels on the Mississippi showed plainly how unequal the contest is between iron-clads and wooden vessels, in loss of life, unless you succeed in destroying the iron-clad.
I therefore deeply regret that the department has not been able to give me one of the many iron-clads that are off Charleston and in the Mississippi.
I have always looked for the latter, but it appears that it takes us twice as long to build an iron-clad as any one else.
It looks as if the contractors and the fates were against us. While the rebels are bending their whole energies to the war our people are expecting the war to close by default; and if they do not awake to a sense of their danger soon it will be so. But be assured, sir, that the navy will do its duty, let the issue come when it may, or I am greatly deceived.
A few days later.
the
Tennessee came down and anchored near
Fort Morgan.
From that time until the battle was fought,
Farragut never left the
Hartford except when making inspections.
It was expected that the rebel admiral would attack the blockading fleet before the iron-clads arrived, and
Farragut made his preparations accordingly, even arranging extemporized torpedoes to place himself in this respect on a par with the enemy.
This he did very reluctantly, writing on May 25th:
Torpedoes are not so agreeable when used on both sides; therefore, I have reluctantly brought myself to it. I have always deemed it unworthy a chivalrous nation, but it does not do to give your enemy such a decided superiority over you.
In the same letter he speaks of the discouraging news just received of
Banks's defeat, and adds:
I see by the rebel papers Buchanan is advertised to raise the blockade as soon as he is ready.
As I have before informed the department, if I had the military force . . . and one or two iron-clads, I would not hesitate to run in and attack him; but if I were to run in and in so doing get my vessels crippled, it would be in his power to retire to the shoal water with his iron-clads (in fact, all their vessels draw much less water than ours), and thus destroy us without our being able to get at him. But if he takes the offensive and comes out of port, I hope to be able to contend with him. The department has not yet responded to my call for the iron-clads in the Mississippi.
After the
Red River disaster,
General Grant decided that the majority of the fighting men of the army could be used to better advantage in
Virginia, and the force in the Department of the Gulf was largely reduced.
It was not
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The “Richmond” and the “Lackawanna” stripped for the fight.
From a War-time sketch. |
until the latter part of July, 1864, that
General Canby could make his arrangements to cooperate with
Farragut at
Mobile Bay.
On the 3d of August a division of troops, under
General Gordon Granger, landed on the west end of Dauphine Island and began preparations for a siege of
Fort Gaines.
Meantime, also, three monitors had arrived and a fourth was daily expected, and at last the time, for which
Admiral Farragut had so long been praying, arrived.
On the morning of August 4th a detachment of army signal officers, under command of the late
Major Frank W. Marston, arrived by tug from New Orleans.
They were distributed among the principal vessels of the fleet, for the purpose of communicating with
General Granger's force after the entrance into the bay had been effected, and it was the good fortune of the writer to be assigned to duty on the
Hartford.
In the afternoon of the same day
Admiral Farragut, with the
commanding officers of the different vessels, made a reconnoissance on the steam-tender
Cowslip, running inside of
Sand Island, where the three monitors were anchored, and within easy range of both the forts.
On the left, some three miles distant, was
Fort Gaines, a small brick and earth work, mounting a few heavy guns, but too far away from the ship channel to cause much uneasiness to the fleet.
Fort Morgan was on the right, one of the strongest of the old brick forts, and greatly strengthened by immense piles of sand-bags, covering every portion of the exposed front.
The fort was well equipped with three tiers of heavy guns, one of the guns, at least, of the best English make, imported by the
Confederates.
In addition, there was in front a battery of seven powerful guns, at the water's edge on the beach.
All the guns, of both fort and water-battery, were within point-blank range of the only channel through which the fleet could pass.
The Confederates considered the works impregnable, but they did not depend solely upon them.
Just around the point of land, behind
Fort Morgan, we could see that afternoon three saucy-looking gun-boats and the famous ram
Tennessee.
The latter was then considered the strongest and most powerful iron-clad ever put afloat.
She looked like a great turtle; her sloping sides were covered with iron plates
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six inches in thickness, thoroughly riveted together, and she had a formidable iron beak projecting under the water.
Her armament consisted of six heavy Brooke rifles, each sending a solid shot weighing from 95 to 110 pounds--a small affair compared with the heavy guns of the present time, but irresistible then against everything but the turrets of the monitors.
In addition to these means of resistance, the narrow channel to within a few hundred yards of the shore had been lined with torpedoes.
 |
Fort Morgan. From War-time Photographs.
1. light-house, Mobile Point. 2.
the south-east bastion.
3. the citadel, from the north side. |
does.
These were under the water, anchored to the bottom.
Some of them were beer-kegs filled with powder, from the sides of which projected numerous little tubes containing fulminate, which it was expected would be exploded by contact with the passing vessels, but the greater part were tin cones fitted with caps.
Except for what
Farragut had already accomplished on the
Mississippi, it would have been considered a foolhardy experiment for wooden vessels to attempt to pass so close to one of the strongest forts on the coast; but when to the forts were added the knowledge of the strength of the rain and the supposed deadly character of the torpedoes, it may be imagined that the
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coming event impressed the person taking his first glimpse of naval warfare as decidedly hazardous and unpleasant.
So daring an attempt was never made in any country but ours, and was never successfully made by any commander except
Farragut, who, in this, as in his previous exploits in passing the forts of the
Mississippi, proved himself one of the greatest naval commanders the world has ever seen.
It was the confidence reposed in him, the recollection that he had not failed in his former attempts, and his manifest faith in the success of the projected movement, that inspired all around him.
The scene on the
Cowslip that afternoon of the 4th of August was a notable one, as she steamed within range of the forts.
The central figure was the grand old admiral, his plans all completed, affable with all, evidently not thinking of failure as among the possibilities of the morrow, and filling every one with his enthusiasm.
He was sixty-three years old, of medium height, stoutly built, with a finely proportioned head and smoothly shaven face, with an expression combining overflowing kindliness with iron will and invincible determination, and with eyes that in repose were full of sweetness and light, but, in emergency, could flash fire and fury.
Next in prominence to the admiral was the tall, commanding form of
Fleet-Captain Percival Drayton, the man of all men to be
Farragut's chief-of-staff, gentlemanly and courteous to all, but thoughtful and reserved, a man of marked intellect and power, in whose death, a few years later, our navy lost one of its very brightest stars, and the cause of liberty and human rights a most devoted friend.
I have digressed to this extent to pay my humble tribute to one of the bravest and most patriotic men I ever met, and to a native South Carolinian of bluest blood, and proud of his ancestry, who in his love of country had learned to look beyond State lines and to disregard the ties of kinship.
As we steamed slowly along inside
Sand Island, inspecting every hostile point, a Confederate transport landed at
Fort Gaines, and began discharging cargo.
At a signal from the admiral, one of the monitors, by way of practice, opened fire at long range, and, as the huge fifteen-inch shell dropped uncomfortably near, the work of unloading was stopped, and the transport suddenly left — the last Confederate transport that ever crossed the bay.
After the reconnaissance the final council of war was held on board the
Hartford, when the positions of the various vessels were assigned, and the order of the line was arranged.
Unfortunately
Captain (now
Rear-Admiral)
Thornton A. Jenkins was absent, his vessel, the
Richmond, having been unavoidably delayed at
Pensacola, whither she had gone for coal and to escort the monitor
Tecumseh.
Had he been present he certainly would have been selected to take the lead, in which event the perilous halt of the next day would not have occurred.
Much against his own wish
Admiral Farragut yielded to the unanimous advice of his captains and gave up his original determination of placing his flagship in the advance, and, in the uncertainty as to the arrival of the
Richmond, assigned the
Brooklyn,
Captain Alden, to that position.
2
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Gulf of Mexico.
note.--The Tecumseh, the leading monitor, moved from the position shown on the map under Fort Morgan, to the left toward the right of the line marked “Torpedoes,” where she was blown up. The distance traversed by the Metacomet, after casting off from the Hartford and until she came up with the Selma, is estimated by Admiral Jouett at nine miles. The time elapsed, as noted in the various reports, sustains this estimate.
Owing to the limited size of the page, the map fails to show this distance, but it indicates the direction of the course of the gun-boats.
The capture of the Selma, as well as the grounding of the Morgan, occurred some distance to the north-east of the edge of the map.--editors. |
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A few hours later, just before sunset, the
Richmond arrived with the
Tecumseh, and the cause of her delay was satisfactorily explained, but the admiral decided to make no change in the order of the line, which was settled upon as follows:
Brooklyn and
Octorara,
Hartford and
Metacomet,
Richmond and
Port Royal,
Lackawanna and
Seminole,
Monongahela and
Kennebec,
Ossipee and
Itasca,
Oneida and
Galena.
The first-named of each pair was on the starboard or more exposed side.
The four monitors were to go a little in advance, and on the right flank of the wooden vessels.
The
Tecumseh and
Manhattan were single-turreted, each with two 15-inch guns.
The
Winnebago and
Chickasaw were of lighter draught, with two turrets each, and four 11-inch guns.
Before attempting to narrate the events of the next day, it may be well to give an idea of the situation.
Mobile Bay gradually widens from the city to the gulf, a distance of thirty miles. The entrance is protected by a long, narrow arm of sand, with
Fort Morgan on the extreme western point.
Across the channel from
Fort Morgan, and perhaps three miles distant, is Dauphine Island, a narrow strip of sand with
Fort Gaines at its eastern end. Further to the west is little Fort Powell, commanding a narrow channel through which light-draught vessels could enter the bay. Between Dauphine Island and
Fort Morgan, and in front of the main entrance to the bay, is
Sand Island, a barren spot, under the lee of which three of our monitors were lying.
The army
signal officers were sent on board the fleet, not with any intention of having their services used in passing the forts, but in order to establish communication afterward between the fleet and the army, for the purpose of cooperating in the capture of the forts.
The primary objects of
Admiral Farragut in entering the bay were to close
Mobile to the outside world, to capture or destroy the
Tennessee, and to cut off all possible means of escape from the garrisons of the forts.
Incidentally, also, he desired to secure the moral effect of a victory, and to give his fleet, which had been tossed on the uneasy waters of the
Gulf for many months, a safe and quiet anchorage.
There was no immediate expectation of capturing the city of
Mobile, which was safe by reason of a solid row of piles and torpedoes across the river, three miles below the city.
Moreover, the larger vessels of the fleet could not approach within a dozen miles of the city, on account of shallow water.
But the lower bay offered a charming resting-place for the fleet, with the additional attraction of plenty of fish and oysters, and an occasional chance to forage on shore.
At sunset the last orders had been issued, every commander knew his duty, and unusual quiet prevailed in the fleet.
The sea was smooth, a gentle breeze relieved the midsummer heat, and the night came on serenely and peacefully, and far more quietly than to a yachting fleet at
Newport.
For the first hour after the candles were lighted below the stillness was almost oppressive.
The officers of the
Hartford gathered around the ward-room table, writing letters to loved ones far away, or giving instructions in case of death.
As brave and thoughtful men, they recognized the dangers that they did not fear, and made provision for the possibilities of the morrow.
But this occupied little
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The battle of Mobile.
From a War-time sketch. |
time, and then.
business over, there followed an hour of unrestrained jollity.
Many an old story was retold and ancient conundrum repeated.
Old officers forgot, for the moment, their customary dignity, and it was evident that all were exhilarated and stimulated by the knowledge of the coming struggle.
There was no other “stimulation,” for the strict naval rules prevented.
Finally, after a half-hour's smoke under the forecastle, all hands turned in. The scene on the flag-ship was representative of the night before the battle throughout the fleet.
It was the admiral's desire and intention to get under way by daylight, to take advantage of the inflowing tide; but a dense fog came on after midnight and delayed the work of forming line.
It was a weird sight as the big ships “balanced to partners,” the dim out-lines slowly emerging like phantoms in the fog. The vessels were lashed together in pairs, fastened side by side by huge cables.
All the vessels had been stripped for the fight, the top-hamper being left at
Pensacola, and the starboard boats being either left behind or towed on the port side.
The admiral's steam-launch, the
Loyall, named after his son,
3 steamed alongside the flag-ship on the port side.
It was a quarter of six o'clock before the fleet was in motion.
Meantime a light breeze had scattered the fog and left a clear, sunny August day. The line moved slowly, and it was an hour after starting before the opening gun was fired.
This was a 15-inch shell from the
Tecumseh, and it exploded over Fort M{organ.
Half an hour afterward the fleet came within range and the firing from the starboard vessels became general, the fort and the
Confederate
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fleet replying.
The fleet took position across the entrance to the bay and raked the advance vessels fore and aft, doing great damage, to which it was for a time impossible to make effective reply.
Gradually the fleet came into close quarters with
Fort Morgan, and the firing on both sides became terrific.
The wooden vessels moved more rapidly than the monitors, and as the
Brooklyn came opposite the fort, and approached the torpedo line, she came nearly alongside the rear monitor.
To have kept on would have been to take the lead, with the ram
Tennessee approaching and with the unknown danger of the torpedoes underneath.
At this critical moment the
Brooklyn halted and began backing and signaling with the army signals.
The
Hartford was immediately behind and the following vessels were in close proximity, and the sudden stopping of the
Brooklyn threatened to bring the whole fleet into collision, while the strong inflowing tide was likely to carry some of the vessels to the shore under the guns of the fort.
On the previous night the admiral had issued orders that the army
signal officers were not to be allowed on deck during the fight, but were to go into the cockpit, on the lower deck, and assist the surgeons.
The reason assigned was that these officers would not be needed during the passage of the forts, but would be wanted afterward to open communication with the army, and that therefore it would be a misfortune to have any of them disabled.
The two army signal officers on the
Hartford disrelished this order exceedingly, and, after consulting together, decided that in the confusion of the occasion their presence on deck would probably not be noticed, and that they would evade the command if possible.
In this they were successful until shortly before passing
Sand Island and coming within range of
Fort Morgan.
Then the executive officer,
Lieutenant-Commander Lewis A. Kimberly, who never allowed anything to escape his attention, came to them very quietly and politely, and told them the admiral's order must be obeyed.
We were satisfied from his manner that the surgeons had need of us, and, without endeavoring to argue the matter, made our way to the stifling hold, where
Surgeon Lansdale and
Assistant-Surgeon Commons, with their helpers, were sitting, with their paraphernalia spread out ready f:or use.
Nearly every man had his watch in his hand awaiting the first shot.
To us, ignorant of everything going on above, every minute seemed an hour, and there was a feeling of great relief when the boom of the
Tecumseh's first gun was heard.
Presently one or two of our forward guns opened, and we could hear the distant sound of the guns of the fort in reply.
Soon the cannon-balls began to crash through the deck above us, and then the thunder of our whole broadside of nine
Dahlgren guns kept the vessel in. a quiver.
But as yet no wounded were sent down, and we knew we were still at comparatively long range.
In the intense excitement of the occasion it seemed that hours had passed, but it was just twenty minutes from the time we went below, when an officer shouted down the hatchway: “Send up an army signal officer immediately; the
Brooklyn is signaling.”
In a moment the writer was on deck, where he found the situation as already described.
Running on to the forecastle, he hastily took the
Brooklyn's message, which
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The battle of Mobile, looking South and eastward.
From a War-time sketch. |
imparted the unnecessary information, “The monitors are right ahead; we cannot go on without passing them.”
The reply was sent at once from the admiral, “Order the monitors ahead and go on.”
But still the
Brooklyn halted, while, to add to the horror of the situation, the monitor
Tecumseh, a few hundred yards in the advance, suddenly careened to one side and almost instantly sank to the bottom, carrying with her
Captain Tunis A. M. Craven and the greater part of his crew, numbering in all 114 officers and men.
4 The pilot,
John Collins, and a few men who were in the turret jumped into
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the water and were rescued by a boat from the
Metacomet, which, under charge of
Acting Ensign Henry C. Nields, rowed up under the guns of the fort and through a deadly storm of shot and shell and picked them up.
5 Meantime the
Brooklyn failed to go ahead, and the whole fleet became a stationary point-blank target for the guns of
Fort Morgan and of the rebel vessels.
It was during these few perilous moments that the most fatal work of the day was done to the fleet.
Owing to the
Hartford's position, only her few bow guns could be used, while a deadly rain of shot and shell was falling on her, and her men were being cut down by scores, unable to make reply.
The sight on deck was sickening beyond the power of words to portray.
Shot after shot came through the side, mowing down the men, deluging the decks with blood, and scattering mangled fragments of humanity so thickly that it was difficult to stand on the deck, so slippery was it. The old expressions of the “scuppers running bloody,” “the slippery deck,” etc., give but the faintest idea of the spectacle on the
Hartford.
The bodies of the dead were placed in a long row on the port side, while the wounded were sent below until the surgeons' quarters would hold no more.
A solid shot coming through the bow struck a gunner on the neck, completely severing head from body.
One poor fellow (afterward an object of interest at the great Sanitary Commission Fair in New York) lost both legs by a cannon-ball; as he fell he threw up both arms, just in time to have them also carried away by another shot.
At one gun, all the crew on one side were swept down by a shot which came crashing through
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the bulwarks.
A shell burst between the two forward guns in charge of
Lieutenant Tyson, killing and wounding fifteen men. The mast upon which the writer was perched was twice struck, once slightly, and again just below the foretop by a heavy shell, from a rifle on the
Confederate gun-boat
Selma.
Fortunately the shell came tumbling end over end, and buried itself in the mast, butt-end first, leaving the percussion-cap protruding.
Had it come point first, or had it struck at any other part of the mast than in the reenforced portion where the heel of the topmast laps the top of the lower mast, this contribution to the literature of the war would probably have been lost to the world, as the distance to the deck was about a hundred feet. As it was, the sudden jar would have dislodged any one from the crosstrees had not the shell been visible from the time it left the
Selma, thus giving time to prepare for it by an extra grip around the top of the mast.
Looking out over the water, it was easy to trace the course of every shot, both from the guns of the
Hartford and from the Confederate fleet.
Another signal message from the
Brooklyn told of the sinking of the
Tecumseh, a fact known already, and another order to “go on” was given and was not obeyed.
Soon after the fight began,
Admiral Farragut, finding that the low-hanging smoke from the guns interfered with his view from the deck, went up the rigging of the mainmast as far as the futtock-shrouds, immediately below the maintop.
The pilot,
Martin Freeman, was in the top directly overhead, and the
fleet-captain was on the deck below.
Seeing the admiral in this exposed position, where, if wounded, he would be killed by falling to the deck,
Fleet-Captain Drayton ordered
Knowles, the signal-quartermaster, to fasten a rope around him so that he would be prevented from falling.
[See p. 407.]
Finding that the
Brooklyn failed to obey his orders, the admiral hurriedly inquired of the pilot if there was sufficient depth of water for the
Hartford to
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pass to the left of the
Brooklyn.
Receiving an affirmative reply, he said: “I will take the lead,” and immediately ordered the
Hartford ahead at full speed.
6 As he passed the
Brooklyn a voice warned him of the torpedoes, to which he returned the contemptuous answer, “Damn the torpedoes.”
This is the current story, and may have some basis of truth.
But as a matter of fact, there was never a moment when the din of the battle would not have drowned any attempt at conversation between the two ships, and while it is quite probable that the admiral made the remark it is doubtful if he shouted it to the
Brooklyn.
7
Then was witnessed the remarkable sight of the
Hartford and her consort, the
Metacomet, passing over the dreaded torpedo ground and rushing ahead far in advance of the rest of the fleet, the extrication of which from the confusion caused by the
Brooklyn's halt required many minutes of valuable time.
8 The
Hartford was now moving over what is called the “middle ground,” with shallow water on either side, so that it was impossible to move except as the channel permitted.
Taking advantage of the situation, the
Confederate gun-boat
Selma kept directly in front of the flag-ship and raked her fore and aft, doing more damage in reality than all the rest of the enemy's fleet.
The other gun-boats, the
Gaines and the
Morgan, were in shallow water on our starboard bow, but they received more damage from the
Hartford's broadsides than they were able to inflict.
Meanwhile the ram
Tennessee, which up to this time had contented herself with simply firing at the approaching fleet, started for the
Hartford, apparently with the intention of striking her amidships.
She came on perhaps for half a mile, never approaching nearer than a hundred yards, and then suddenly turned and made for the fleet, which, still in front of the fort, was gradually getting straightened out and following the
Hartford.
This change of course on the part of the ram has always been a mystery.
The captain of the ram, in papers published since the war, denies that any such move was made, but it was witnessed by the entire fleet, and is mentioned by both
Admiral Farragut and
Fleet-Captain Drayton in their official reports.
9
The
Hartford had now run a mile inside the bay, and was suffering chiefly from the raking fire of the
Selma, which was unquestionably managed more skillfully than any other Confederate vessel.
Captain (now
Admiral)
Jouett, commanding the
Hartford's escort, the
Metacomet, repeatedly asked permission
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of the admiral to cut loose and take care of the
Selma, and finally, at five minutes past eight, consent was given.
In an instant the cables binding the two vessels were cut, and the
Metacomet, the fastest vessel in the fleet, bounded ahead.
The
Selma was no match for her, and, recognizing her danger, endeavored to retreat up the bay. But she was speedily overhauled, and when a shot had wounded her captain and killed her first lieutenant she surrendered.
Before this the
Gaines had been crippled by the splendid marksmanship of the
Hartford's gunners, and had run aground under the guns of the fort, where she was shortly afterward set on fire, the crew escaping to the shore.
The gun-boat
Morgan, after grounding for a few moments on the shoals to the east of
Navy Cove, retreated to the shallow water near the fort, whence she escaped the following night to
Mobile.
The
Hartford, having reached the deep water of the bay, about three miles north of Dauphine Island, came to anchor.
Let us now return to the other vessels of the fleet, which we left massed in front of
Fort Morgan by the remarkable action of the
Brooklyn in stopping and refusing to move ahead.
When the ram
Tennessee turned away from the
Hartford, as narrated, she made for the fleet, and in their crowded and confused condition it seemed to be a matter of no difficulty to pick out whatever victims the
Confederate commander (
Admiral Franklin Buchanan) might desire, as he had done in 1861 when commanding the
Merrimac in
Hampton Roads.
Before he could reach them the line had become straightened, and the leading vessels had passed the fort.
Admiral Jenkins, who commanded the
Richmond during the fight, writing of this part of the fight, for the use of the present writer, says:
During the delay under the guns of Fort Morgan and the water-battery by the backing of the Brooklyn, the vessels astern had remained apparently stationary, so that the nearest one to the Richmond was about half a mile off, and some of them paid very dearly, for the men of the water-battery, who had been driven away from their guns and up the sand hills by the fire of the Richmond and Chickasaw, had time to return and attack them.
When the Hartford “ cut adrift” from the Brooklyn and Richmond--the only safe thing possible to do — the
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Tennessee and the three gun-boats pursued her. That is, the Tennessee, after getting above the lines of torpedoes, turned into the main ship-channel and followed the Hartford, while the gun-boats were in shallow water to the northward, where our heavy vessels could not go after them.
When the Tennessee was within probably half a mile of the Hartford, she suddenly turned her head toward the Brooklyn and Richmond (both close together). As she approached, every one on board the Richmond supposed that she would rain the Brooklyn ; that, we thought, would be our opportunity, for if she struck the Brooklyn the concussion would throw her port side across our path, and being so near to us, she would not have time to “ straighten up,” and we would strike her fairly and squarely, and most likely sink her.
The guns were loaded with solid shot and heaviest powder charge; the forecastle gun's crew were ordered to get their small-arms and fire into her gun-ports; and as previously determined, if we came in collision at any time, the orders were to throw gun charges of powder in bags from the fore and main yard-arms down her smoke-stack (or at least try to do so). To our great surprise, she sheered off from the Brooklyn, and at about one hundred yards put two shot or shells through and through the Brooklyn's sides (as reported), doing much damage.
Approaching, passing, and getting away from the Richmond, the ram received from us three full broadsides of 9-inch solid shot, each broadside being eleven guns.
They were well aimed and all struck, but when she was examined next day, no other indications were seen than scratches.
The musketry fire into the two ports prevented the leveling of her guns, and therefore two of her shot or shell passed harmlessly over the Richmond, except the cutting of a ratline in the port main-shroud, just under the feet of the pilot, while the other whistled unpleasantly close to Lieutenant Terry's head.
The Tennessee passed toward the Lackawanna, the next vessel astern, and avoided her — wishing either to ram Captain Strong's vessel (Monongahela), or cross his bow and attack McCann's vessel (the Kennebec, Strong's consort). Strong was ready for her, and, anticipating her object, made at her, but the blow (by the quick manoeuvring of the Tennessee) was a glancing one, doing very little damage to either Strong's or McCann's vessel.
Thence the Tennessee, after firing two broadsides into the Oneida, proceeded toward the fort, and for a time entirely disappeared from our sight.
During this time the three gun-boats were proceeding, apparently, up the bay, to escape.
The Hartford was closely watched with our glasses, and soon after the Tennessee had left Strong the Metacomet (Jouett) was seen to cast off; and divining the purpose, the Port Royal (Gherardi) was ordered to cast off from the Richmond and go in chase of the enemy, pointing in the direction of the three gun-boats of the enemy.
George Brown (in the Itasca) cast off from the Ossipee and (I believe) McCann did also, and steered for the enemy.
By this time Jouett had come up with the Selma, and the fight commenced.
A very few minutes after Gherardi had left the side of the Richmond, and the other small vessels had left their consorts, a thick mist, with light rain (just enough to wet the deck), passed over the Richmond, obscuring from sight every object outside the vessel; indeed, for a few minutes the bowsprit of the Richmond could not be seen from the poop-deck.
This mist and rain, in a cloudless sunshiny day, were slowly wafted over the waters toward the fort and pilot town, enabling John W. Bennett, commanding one of the enemy's gun-boats, and George W. Harrison, commanding the other, to shape their courses for safety, in shoal water, and finally under Fort Morgan.
Gherardi in the Port Royal (as soon as he could see) saw only the Selma and Metacomet, and continued his course for them.
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 |
|
Capture of the Confederate gun-boat “Selma” by the “Metacomet.”
from a War-time sketch. |
Whatever damage was done by the
Tennessee to the fleet in passing the fort was by the occasional discharge of her guns.
She failed to strike a single one of the Union vessels, but was herself run into by the
Monongahela,
Captain Strong, at full speed.
10 The captain says in his report:
After passing the forts I saw the rebel ram Tennessee head on for our line.
I then sheered out of the line to run into her, at the same time ordering full speed as fast as possible.
I struck her fair, and swinging around poured in a broadside of solid 11-inch shot, which apparently had little if any effect upon her.
This modest statement is characteristic of the gallant writer, now dead, as are so many others of the conspicuous actors in that day's work.
The
Monongahela was no match for the
Tennessee, but she had been strengthened by an artificial iron prow, and being one of the fastest — or rather,
least slow--of the fleet, was expected to act as a ram if opportunity offered.
Captain Strong waited for no orders, but seeing the huge ram coming for the fleet left his place in the line and attacked her, as narrated.
It was at this time that the
Monongahela's first lieutenant,
Roderick Prentiss, a brave and gifted young officer, received his death wound, both legs being shattered.
At last all the fleet passed the fort, and while the ram ran under its guns the vessels made their way to the
Hartford and dropped their anchors, except the
Metacomet,
Port Royal,
Kennebec, and
Itasca.
After the forts were passed, the three last named had cut loose from their escorts and gone to aid the
Metacomet in her struggle with the
Selma and
Morgan.
11
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The thunder of heavy artillery now ceased.
The crews of the various vessels had begun to efface the marks of the terrible contest by washing the decks and clearing up the splinters.
The cooks were preparing break-fast, the surgeons were busily engaged in making amputations and binding arteries, and under canvas, on the port side of each vessel, lay the ghastly line of dead waiting the sailor's burial.
As if by mutual understanding, officers who were relieved from immediate duty gathered in the ward-rooms to ascertain who of their mates were missing, and the reaction from such a season of tense nerves and excitement was just setting in when the hurried call to quarters came and the word passed around, “The ram is coming.”
The
Tennessee, after remaining near
Fort Morgan while the fleet had made its way four miles above to its anchorage,--certainly as much as half an hour,--had suddenly decided to settle at once the question of the control of the bay. Single-handed she came on to meet the whole fleet, consisting now of ten wooden vessels and the three monitors.
At that time the
Tenessee was believed to be the strongest vessel afloat, and the safety with which she carried her crew during the battle proved that she was virtually invulnerable.
Fortunately for the Union fleet she was weakly handled, and at the end fell a victim to a stupendous blunder in her construction — the failure to protect her rudder-chains.
The spectacle afforded the
Confederate soldiers, who crowded the ramparts of the two forts,--the fleet now being out of range,--was such as has very rarely been furnished in the history of the world.
To the looker — on it seemed as if the fleet was at the mercy of the ram, for the monitors, which were expected to be the chief defense, were so destitute of speed and so difficult to manoeuvre that it seemed an easy task for the
Tennessee to avoid them and sink the wooden vessels in detail.
Because of the slowness of the monitors,
Admiral Farragut selected the fastest of the wooden vessels to begin the attack.
While the navy signals for a general attack of the enemy were being prepared, the
Monongahela (
Captain Strong) and the
Lackawanna (
Captain Marchand) were ordered by the more rapid signal system of the army to “run down the ram,” the order being immediately repeated to the monitors.
The
Monongyahela, with her prow already somewhat weakened by the previous attempt to ram, at once took the lead, as she had not yet come to anchor.
The ram from the first headed for the
Hartford, and paid no attention to her assailants, except with her guns.
The
Monongahela, going at full speed, struck the
Tennessee amidships — a blow that would have sunk almost any vessel of the
Union navy, but which inflicted not the slightest damage on the solid iron hull of the ran. (After the surrender it was almost impossible to tell where the attacking vessel had struck.) Her own iron prow and cutwater were carried away, and she was otherwise badly damaged about the stern by the collision.
The
Lackawanna was close behind and delivered a similar blow with her wooden bow, simply causing the ram to lurch slightly to one side.
As the vessels separated the
Lackawanna swung alongside the ram, which sent two shots through her and kept on
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her course for the
Hartford, which was now the next vessel in the attack.
The two flag-ships approached each other, bow to bow, iron against oak. It was impossible for the
Hartford, with her lack of speed, to circle around and strike the ram on the side; her only safety was in keeping pointed directly for the bow of her assailant.
The other vessels of the fleet were unable to do anything for the defense of the admiral except to train their guns on the ram, on which as yet they had not the slightest effect.
It was a thrilling moment for the fleet, for it was evident that if the ram could strike the
Hartford the latter must sink.
But for the two vessels to strike fairly, bows on, would probably have involved the destruction of both, for the ram must have penetrated so far into the wooden ship that as the
Hartford filled and sank she would have carried the ram under water.
Whether for this reason or for some other, as the two vessels came together the
Tennessee slightly changed her course, the port bow of the
Hartford met the port bow of the ram, and the ships grated against each other as they passed.
The
Hartford poured her whole port broadside against the ram, but the solid shot merely dented the side and bounded into the air. The ram tried to return the salute, but owing to defective primers only one gun was discharged.
This sent a shell through the berth-deck, killing five men and wounding eight.
The muzzle of the gun was so close to the
Hartford that the powder blackened her side.
The admiral stood on the quarter-deck when the vessels came together, and as he saw the result he jumped on to the port-quarter rail, holding
to the mizzen-rigging, a position from which he might have jumped to the deck of the ram as she passed.
Seeing him in this position, and fearing for his safety,
Flag-Lieutenant Watson slipped a rope around him and secured it to the rigging, so that during the fight the admiral was twice “lashed to the rigging,” each time by devoted officers who knew better than to consult him before acting.
Fleet-Captain Drayton had hurried to the bow of the
Hartford as the collision was seen to be inevitable, and expressed keen satisfaction when the ram avoided a direct blow.
The
Tennessee now became the target for the whole fleet, all the vessels of which were making toward her, pounding her with shot, and trying to run her down.
As the
Hartford turned to make for her again, we ran in front of the
Lackawanna, which had already turned and was moving under full headway with the same object.
She struck us on our starboard side, amidships, crushing half-way
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through, knocking two port-holes into one, upsetting one of the Dahlgren guns, and creating general consternation.
For a time it was thought that we must sink, and the cry rang out over the deck: “Save the admiral!
Save the admiral!”
The port boats were ordered lowered, and in their haste some of the sailors cut the “falls,” and two of the cutters dropped into the water wrong side up, and floated astern.
But the admiral sprang into the starboard mizzen-rigging, looked over the side of the ship, and, finding there were still
a few inches to spare above the water's edge, instantly ordered the ship ahead again at full speed, after the ram. The unfortunate
Lackawanna, which had struck the ram. a second blow, was making for her once more, and, singularly enough, again came up on our starboard side, and another collision seemed imminent.
And now the admiral became a trifle excited.
He had no idea of whipping the rebels to be himself sunk by a friend, nor did he realize at the moment that the
Hartford was as much to blame as the
Lackawanna.
Turning to the writer he inquired.; “Can you say ‘for God's sake’ by signal?”
“Yes, sir,” was the reply.
“Then say to the
Lackawanna, ‘ For God's sake get out of our way and anchor!
’ ” In my haste to send the message, I brought the end of my signal flag-staff down with considerable violence upon the head of the admiral, who was standing nearer than I thought, causing him to wince perceptibly.
It was a hasty message, for the fault was equally divided, each ship being too eager to reach the enemy, and it turned out all right, by a fortunate accident, that
Captain Marchand never received it. The army
signal officer on the
Lackawanna,
Lieutenant Myron Adams (now pastor of Plymouth Congregational Church in
Rochester, N. Y.), had taken his station in the foretop, and just as he received the first five words, “For God's sake get out”----the wind flirted the large
United States flag at the mast-head around him, so that he was unable to read the conclusion of the message.
The remainder of the story is soon told.
As the
Tennessee left the
Hartford she became the target of the entire fleet, and at last the concentration of solid shot from so many guns began to tell.
The flag-staff was shot away, the smoke-stack was riddled with holes, and finally disappeared.
The monitor
Chickasaw,
Lieutenant-Commander Perkins, succeeded in coming up astern and began pounding away with 11-inch solid shot, and one shot from a 15-inch gun of the
Manhattan crushed into the side sufficiently to prove that a few more such shots would have made the casemate untenable.
Finally, one of the
Chickasaw's shots cut the rudder-chain of the ram and she would no
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longer mind her helm.
12 At this time, as
Admiral Farragut says in his report, “she was sore beset.
The
Chickasaw was pounding away at her stern, the
Ossipee was approaching her at full speed, and the
Monongahela,
Lackawanna, and this ship were bearing down upon her, determined upon her destruction.”
From the time the
Hartford struck her she did not fire a gun. Finally the
Confederate admiral,
Buchanan, was severely wounded by an iron splinter or a piece of a shell, and just as the
Ossipee was about to strike her the
Tennessee displayed a white flag, hoisted on an improvised staff through the grating over her deck.
The
Ossipee (
Captain Le Roy) reversed her engine, but was so near that a harmless collision was inevitable.
Suddenly the terrific cannonading ceased, and from every ship rang out cheer after cheer, as the weary men realized that at last the ram was conquered and the day won.
13 The
Chickasaw took the
Tennessee in tow and brought her to anchor near the
Hartford.
The impression prevailed at first that the
Tennessee had been seriously injured by the ramming she had received and was sinking, and orders were signaled to send boats to assist her crew, but it was soon discovered that this was unnecessary.
Admiral Buchanan surrendered his sword to
Lieutenant Giraud, of the
Ossipee, who was sent to take charge of the captured
Tennessee.
Captain Heywood, of the Marine Corps, was sent on board the ram with a guard of marines.
On meeting
Admiral Buchanan he could not
 |
|
Fight between the “Chickasaw” and Fort Powell, August 5, 1864.
from a War-time sketch: the picture appears to represent the blowing up of Fort Powell, which did not occur until after 10 o'clock that night, when the Fort was evacuated.--editors. |
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resist the temptation to inform him that they had met before under different circumstances, the captain having been on the frigate
Cumberland when she was sunk in
Hampton Roads by
Buchanan in the
Merrimac.
14
Late in the afternoon the
Metacomet was sent to
Pensacola with the wounded of both sides, including
Admiral Buchanan.
In his report he accuses
Captain Harrison of the
Morgan of deserting the
Selma.
Captain Harrison in his report, on the other hand, charges
Captain Murphy of the
Selma with running away and with bad seamanship.
Those who witnessed the fight at close quarters will not accept
Captain Harrison's view, and the record of killed and wounded tells the story.
On the
Morgan one man was slightly wounded, on the
Selma eight were killed and seven wounded.; and there is no doubt that the
Selma was better managed and did more harm to the Union fleet than the two other rebel gun-boats combined.
Captain Murphy of the
Selma, in his official report, written like those of
Buchanan and
Johnston from the
Pensacola, hospital, tells very briefly the story of his part in the fight and makes no insinuations or complaints against brother officers.
The total casualties in the rebel fleet were 12 killed and 20 wounded, as follows:
| | Killed. | Wounded. |
| Ram Tennessee | 2 | 9 |
| Gun-boat Selma | 8 | 7 |
| Gun-boat Gaines | 2 | 3 |
| Gun-boat Morgan | | 1 |
| | | |
| Total | 12 | 20 |
[To the above should be added those captured on board the surrendered vessels, including, according to
Farragut's report, 190 in the
Tennessee and 90 in the
Selma.--editors.]
The
Gaines, according to the official report of her captain, was disabled by a shot or shell from the
Hartford, “which broke in the outer planking under the port quarter about the water-line, and which from the marks seemed to have glanced below in the direction of the stern-post.”
This caused a leak in the after-magazine that could not be stopped, and made it necessary to beach the vessel as already described.
The captain succeeded in removing the ammunition, supplies, and small-arms to the shore, for the use of
Fort Morgan, and during the next night made his escape with his crew to
Mobile, pulling up the bay in six cutters, which in the darkness easily evaded the
Union gun-boats that were on guard.
The
Morgan also succeeded in making her way through without difficulty, covering all her lights and running very slowly until she had passed the Union vessels.
The writer of this sketch has
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never been able to understand why the
Morgan and the boats belonging to the
Gaines were not destroyed during the afternoon following the fight, as might have been done with ease and safety by any one of the monitors.
This was supposed to have been the object of a little excursion of the
Winnebago in the afternoon, which, however, aside from firing a few harmless and unnecessary shots at
Fort Morgan, accomplished nothing.
The
Chickasaw (
Lieutenant-Commander Perkins) at the same time shelled Fort Powell, which was evacuated about 10 P. M. that night, the officers and men escaping to the mainland.
The
Chickasaw also tackled
Fort Gaines on the 6th, and speedily convinced the
commanding officer that it would be folly to attempt to withstand a siege.
The result was a surrender to the army and navy the next morning.
Fort Morgan was at once invested, and surrendered on the 23d of August.
