CHAPTER XXXV.
THE BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY.
DEFENCES—ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S PREPARATIONS—PASSING THE FORTS—LOSS OF THE "TECUMSEH"—FIGHT WITH THE RAM "TENNESSEE"—COST OF THE VICTORY—CRAVEN'S CHIVALRY—OFFICIAL REPORT OF ADMIRAL FARRAGUT—POETIC DESCRIPTION OF THE BATTLE BY A POET WHO PARTICIPATED IN THE CONFLICT.
The capture of Mobile had long been desired, both because of its importance as a base of operations, whence expeditions could move inland, and communication be maintained with the fleet, and because blockade-running at that port could not be entirely prevented by the vessels outside. Grant and Sherman had planned to have the city taken by forces moving east from New Orleans and Port Hudson; but everything had gone wrong in that quarter.
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REAR-ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. |
The principal defences of Mobile Bay were Fort Morgan on Mobile Point, and Fort Gaines, three miles northwest of it, on the extremity of Dauphin Island. The passage between these two works was obstructed by innumerable piles for two miles out from Fort Gaines, and from that point nearly to Fort Morgan by a line of torpedoes. The eastern end of this line was marked by a red buoy, and from that point to Fort Morgan the channel was open, to admit blockade-runners.
Farragut's fleet had been for a long time preparing to pass these forts, fight the Confederate fleet inside (which included a powerful iron-clad ram), and take possession of the bay. But he wanted the coöperation of a military force to capture the forts. This was at last furnished, under Gen. Gordon Granger, and landed on Dauphin Island, August 4th. Farragut had made careful preparations, and, as at New Orleans, had given minute instructions to his captains. The attacking column consisted of four iron-clad monitors and seven wooden sloops-of-war. To each sloop was lashed a gunboat on the port (or left) side, to help her out in case she were disabled. The heaviest fire was expected from Fort Morgan, on the right, or starboard, side. Before six o'clock in the morning of the 5th all were under way, the monitors forming a line abreast of the wooden ships and to the right of them. The Brooklyn headed the line of the wooden vessels, because she had an apparatus for picking up torpedoes. They steamed along in beautiful style, coming up into close order as they neared the fort, so that there were spaces of but a few yards from the stern of one vessel to the bow of the next. The forts and the Confederate fleet, which lay just inside of the line of torpedoes, opened fire upon them half an hour before they could bring their guns to answer. They made the Hartford, Farragut's flagship, their especial target, lodged a hundred-and-twenty-pound ball in her mainmast, sent great splinters flying across her deck, more dangerous than shot, and killed or wounded many of her crew. One ball from a Confederate gunboat killed ten men and wounded five. The other wooden vessels suffered in like manner as they approached; but when they came abreast of the fort they poured in rapid broadsides of grape-shot, shrapnel, and shells, which quickly cleared the bastions and silenced the batteries.
The captains had been warned to pass to the east of the red buoy; but Captain T. A. M. Craven, of the monitor Tecumseh, eager to engage the Confederate ram Tennessee, which was behind the line of torpedoes, made straight for her. The consequence was that his vessel struck a torpedo, which exploded, and she went down in a few seconds, carrying with her the captain and most of the crew. The Brooklyn stopped when she found torpedoes, and began to back. This threatened to throw the whole line into confusion while under fire, and defeat the project; but Farragut instantly ordered more steam on his own vessel and her consort, drew ahead of the Brooklyn, and led the line to victory. All this time he was in the rigging of the Hartford, and a quartermaster had gone up and tied him to one of the shrouds, so that if wounded he should not fall to the deck. As the fleet passed into the bay, several of the larger vessels were attacked by the ram Tennessee and considerably damaged, while their shot seemed to have little effect on her heavy iron mail. At length she withdrew to her anchorage, and the order was given from the flagship, "Gunboats chase enemy's gunboats," whereupon the lashings were cut and the National gunboats were off in a flash. In a little while they had destroyed or captured all the Confederate vessels save one, which escaped up the bay, where the water was too shallow for them to follow her.
But as the fleet was coming to anchor, in the belief that the fight was over, the Tennessee left her anchorage and steamed boldly into the midst of her enemies, firing in every direction and attempting to ram them. The wooden vessels stood to the fight in the most gallant manner, throwing useless broadsides against the monster, avoiding her blows by skilful manoeuvring, and trying to run her down till some of them hammered their bows to splinters. The three monitors pounded at her to more purpose. They fired one fifteen-inch solid shot that penetrated her armor; they jammed some of her shutters so that the port-holes could not be opened; they shot away her steering-gear, and knocked off her smoke-stack, so that life on board of her became intolerable, and she surrendered. Her commander, Franklin Buchanan, formerly of the United States navy, had been seriously wounded.
This victory cost Farragut's fleet fifty-two men killed and one hundred and seventy wounded, besides one hundred and thirteen that went down in the Tecumseh. Knowles, the same old quartermaster that had tied Farragut in the rigging, says he saw the admiral coming on deck as the twenty-five dead sailors of the Hartford were being laid out, "and it was the only time I ever saw the old gentleman cry, but the tears came into his eyes like a little child." The Confederate fleet lost ten men killed, sixteen wounded, and two hundred and eighty prisoners. The loss in the forts is unknown. They were surrendered soon afterward to the land forces, with a thousand men.
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BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL W. P. BENTON. |
Of the four iron-clads that went into this fight, two—the Tecumseh and the Manhattan—had come from the Atlantic coast, while the Chickasaw and the Winnebago, which had been built at St. Louis by James B. Eads, came down the Mississippi. Much doubt had been expressed as to the ability of these two river-built monitors to stand the rough weather of the Gulf, and Captain Eads had visited the Navy Department, and offered to bear all the expenses in case they failed. It is agreed by all authorities, that in the fight with the ram Tennessee, which was a much more serious affair than passing the forts, the best work was done by the monitor Chickasaw. The commander of this vessel, George H. Perkins, and his lieutenant, William Hamilton, had received leave of absence and were about to go North, when they learned that the battle was soon to take place, and volunteered to remain and take part in it. They were then at New Orleans and were assigned to the Chickasaw. As this vessel passed thence down the Mississippi on her way to Mobile, she took a pilot for the navigation of the river. It often happened that the National vessels were obliged to take Southern men as pilots in the Southern waters, and they were not always to be trusted. In this instance, Captain Perkins, being called away from the pilot-house for a few minutes, observed that his vessel's course was at once changed and she was heading for a wreck. Rushing back to the pilot-house, he seized the wheel and gave her the proper direction, after which he drew his pistol and told the pilot that if the ship touched ground or ran into anything, he would instantly blow out his brains. The pilot muttered something about the bottom of the river being lumpy, and the best pilots not always being able to avoid the lumps. But Captain Perkins told him he could not consider any such excuse, and if he touched a single lump he would instantly lose his life. There was no more trouble about the piloting.
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BRIGADIER-GENERAL F. M. COCKRELL, C. S. A. |
The Chickasaw was a double-turreted monitor, carrying two eleven-inch guns in each turret, and she was the only iron-clad that remained in perfect condition throughout the fight. This, perhaps, was owing to the fact that Captain Perkins, who was young, enthusiastic, and ambitious, personally inspected everything on the ship while she was in preparation and before she went into action. The place of the ships in line was determined by the rank of their commanders, and the Chickasaw came last of the monitors. In the fight with the Tennessee, she fired solid shot, most of them striking her about the stern. The pilot of the Tennessee said after the battle: "The Chickasaw hung close under our stern; move where we would, she was always there, firing the two eleven-inch guns in her forward turret like pocket pistols, so that she soon had the plates flying in the air." Captain Perkins himself says: "When the Tennessee passed my ship first, it was on my port side. After that she steered toward Fort Morgan. Some of our vessels anchored, others kept under way, and when the Tennessee approached the fleet again, she was at once attacked by the wooden vessels, but they made no impression upon her. An order was now brought from Admiral Farragut to the iron-clads, by Dr. Palmer, directing them to attack the Tennessee; but when they approached her, she moved off toward the fort again. I followed straight after her with the Chickasaw, and, overtaking her, I poured solid shot into her as fast as I could, and after a short engagement forced her to surrender, having shot away her smoke-stack, destroyed her steering-gear, and jammed her after-ports, rendering her guns useless, while one of my shots wounded Admiral Buchanan. I followed her close, my guns and turrets continuing in perfect order in spite of the strain upon them. When Johnston came on the roof of the Tennessee, and showed the white flag as signal of surrender, no vessel of our fleet, except the Chickasaw, was within a quarter of a mile. But the Ossipee was approaching, and her captain was much older than myself. I was wet with perspiration, begrimed with powder, and exhausted with constant and violent exertion; so I drew back and allowed Captain LeRoy to receive the surrender, though my first lieutenant, Mr. Hamilton, said at the time, 'Captain Perkins, you are making a mistake.'"
Admiral Farragut says in his official report: "As I had an elevated position in the main rigging near the top, I was able to overlook not only the deck of the Hartford, but the other vessels of the fleet. I witnessed the terrible effects of the enemy's shot, and the good conduct of the men at their guns; and although no doubt their hearts sickened, as mine did, when their shipmates were struck down beside them, yet there was not a moment's hesitation to lay their comrades aside, and spring again to their deadly work.... I must not omit to call the attention of the department to the conduct of Acting Ensign Henry C. Nields, of the Metacomet, who had charge of the boat sent from that vessel, when the Tecumseh sunk. He took her under one of the most galling fires I ever saw, and succeeded in rescuing from death ten of her crew within six hundred yards of the fort." Commodore Foxhall A. Parker, in his very accurate account of this battle, describes more particularly the exploit of Ensign Nields: "Starting from the port quarter of the Metacomet, and steering the boat himself, this mere boy pulled directly under the battery of the Hartford, and around the Brooklyn, to within a few hundred yards of the fort, exposed to the fire of both friends and foes. After he had gone a little distance from his vessel, he seemed suddenly to reflect that he had no flag flying, when he dropped the yoke-ropes, picked up a small ensign from the bottom of the boat, and unfurling it from its staff, which he shipped in a socket made for it in the stern-sheets, he threw it full to the breeze, amid the loud cheers of his men. 'I can hardly describe,' says an officer of the Tennessee, 'how I felt at witnessing this most gallant act. The muzzle of our gun was slowly raised, and the bolt intended for the Tecumseh flew harmlessly over the heads of that glorious boat's crew, far down in the line of our foes.' After saving Ensign Zelitch, eight men, and the pilot, Nields turned, and, pulling for the fleet, succeeded in reaching the Oneida, where he remained until the close of the action."
In a memorandum discovered among Admiral Farragut's papers he said: "General orders required the vessels to pass inside the buoys next to Fort Morgan. When the Tecumseh reached that point, it looked so close that poor Craven said to the pilot, 'The admiral ordered me to go inside that buoy, but it must be a mistake.' He ran just his breadth of beam too far westward, struck a torpedo, and went down in two minutes. Alden saw the buoys ahead, and stopped his ship. This liked to have proved fatal to all of us. I saw the difficulty, and ordered the Hartford ahead, and the fleet to follow. Allowing the Brooklyn to go ahead was a great error. It lost not only the Tecumseh, but many valuable lives, by keeping us under the fire of the forts for thirty minutes; whereas, had I led, as I intended to do, I would have gone inside the buoys, and all would have followed me. The officers and crews of all the ships did their duty like men. There was but one man who showed fear, and he was allowed to resign. This was the most desperate battle I ever fought since the days of the old Essex."
The thorough discipline and devotion of the crews is illustrated by an incident on the Oneida. A shot penetrated her starboard boiler, and the escaping steam scalded thirteen men. At this one gun's-crew shrank back for a moment, but when Captain Mullany shouted, "Back to your quarters, men!" they instantly returned to their guns. Soon afterward, Captain Mullany lost an arm and received six other wounds. Craven's chief engineer in the Tecumseh, C. Farron, was an invalid in the hospital at Pensacola when the orders were given to sail for Mobile, but he insisted on leaving his bed and going with his ship, with which he was lost.
A Confederate officer who was in the water battery at Fort Morgan expressed unbounded admiration at the manoeuvring of the vessels when the Brooklyn stopped and the Hartford drew ahead and took the lead. "At first," he says, "they appeared to be in inextricable confusion, and at the mercy of our guns; but when the Hartford dashed forward, we realized that the grand tactical movement had been accomplished."
An officer of the Hartford wrote in his private journal: "The order was, to go 'slowly, slowly,' and receive the fire of Fort Morgan. At six minutes past seven the fort opened, having allowed us to get into such short range that we apprehended some snare; in fact, I heard the order passed for our guns to be elevated for fourteen hundred yards some time before one was fired. The calmness of the scene was sublime. No impatience, no irritation, no anxiety, except for the fort to open; and, after it did open, full five minutes elapsed before we answered. In the mean time the guns were trained as if at a target, and all the sounds I could hear were, 'Steady, boys, steady! Left tackle a little—so! so!' Then the roar of a broadside, and an eager cheer as the enemy were driven from their water battery. Don't imagine they were frightened; no man could stand under that iron shower; and the brave fellows returned to their guns as soon as it lulled, only to be driven away again."
Farragut, who was a man of deep religious convictions, fully realized the perils of the enterprise upon which he was entering, and did not half expect to survive it. In a letter to his wife, written the evening before the battle, he said: "I am going into Mobile Bay in the morning, if God is my leader, as I hope he is, and in him I place my trust. If he think it is the proper place for me to die, I am ready to submit to his will in that as in all other things." In spite of the universal sailor superstition, he fought this battle on Friday.
One incident of this battle suggests the thought that many of the famous deeds of Old-World chivalry have been paralleled in American history. When the Tecumseh was going down, Captain Craven and his pilot met at the foot of the ladder that afforded the only escape, and the pilot stepped aside. "After you, pilot," said Craven, drawing back, for he knew it was by his own fault, not the pilot's, that the vessel was struck. "There was nothing after me," said the pilot, in telling the story; "for the moment I reached the deck the vessel seemed to drop from under me, and went to the bottom."
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ON BOARD THE "HARTFORD," BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY. (From a painting by W. H. Overend.) |
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GUN PRACTICE ON A NATIONAL WAR-SHIP. (From a war-time photograph.) |
In all the literature of our language there is but one instance of the poetical description of a battle by a genuine poet who was a participator in the conflict. This instance is Brownell's "Bay Fight." Drayton's fine "Ballad of Agincourt" has long been famous, but that battle was fought a century and a half before Drayton was born. Campbell witnessed the battle of Hohenlinden, famous through his familiar poem, but only from the distant tower of a convent. Byron's description of the battle of Waterloo is justly admired, but Byron was not at Waterloo. Tennyson's "Charge of the Light Brigade at Balaklava," which every schoolboy knows, is another hearsay poem, for Tennyson was never within a thousand miles of Balaklava. Henry Howard Brownell, a native of Providence, R. I., when a young man taught a school in Mobile, Ala. Afterward he practised law in Hartford, Conn., but left it for literature, and at the age of twenty-seven published a volume of poems that attracted no attention. During the war he made numerous poetical contributions to periodicals, some of which were widely copied. One of these, a poetical version of Farragut's General Orders at New Orleans, attracted the admiral's attention and led to a correspondence. Brownell wrote that he had always wanted to witness a sea-fight, and Farragut, answering that he would give him an opportunity, procured his appointment as acting ensign on board the Hartford. During the battle of Mobile, Brownell was on deck attending to his duties, for which he was honorably mentioned in the admiral's report, and at the same time taking notes of the picturesque incidents. The outcome was his unique and powerful poem entitled "The Bay Fight." Oliver Wendell Holmes, in an article in the Atlantic Monthly, said: "New modes of warfare thundered their demand for a new poet to describe them; and Nature has answered in the voice of our battle laureate, Henry Howard Brownell." From Mr. Brownell's poem we take the following stanzas: