The evening before the action it was raining hard, but toward midnight stopped and became clear, hot, and calm. The preparations were all made and the vessels lay quietly at their anchors; the wooden ships outside, the monitors behind Sand Island. Later a light air sprung up from the southwest, thus fulfilling the admiral's wish. He was not well, sleeping restlessly, and about three in the morning sent his steward to find out how the wind was. When he learned it was southwest, he said: "Then we will go in this morning." Soon after, the hands were turned up and hammocks stowed. Between 4 and 5 o'clock the lighter vessels came alongside and were lashed to their consorts. At 5.30 the signal was made to get under way and the Brooklyn weighed at once, the other vessels following in order, the monitors at the same time standing out from their anchorage. The fleet steamed slowly in to the bar, to allow its members to take and keep their stations, the crews in the meantime going to quarters and clearing for action. At 6.10 the bar was crossed by the flag-ship, and by 6.30 the order for battle was fairly formed and the monitors taking their stations; in doing which a slight delay occurred. At this time all the ships hoisted the United States flag at the peak and the three mastheads, and the Tecumseh fired the first two shots at the fort. At five minutes before seven the fleet went ahead again, and at five minutes past the fort opened upon the Brooklyn, the leading ship, which answered at once with her bow rifle, and immediately afterward the action became general along the line between the fort, the monitors (except the Tecumseh), and the bow guns of the fleet; at the same time the enemy's gunboats moved out from behind Morgan and formed in line ahead, east and west, across the channel just inside the lines of torpedoes. From this position they had a raking fire upon the fleet, which was confined to a nearly north course (north by east), until it had passed the fort and the buoy. At half-past seven the leading ships had their broadsides bearing fairly on the works, and while they maintained that position their heavy fire so kept down the enemy's that the latter did little harm.
The Tecumseh, after firing the two first guns, as stated above, had turned her turret from the enemy and loaded again with steel shot and the heaviest charge[30] of powder. Intent only upon the Tennessee, she steamed quietly on, regardless of the fort, a little ahead of the Brooklyn, the other monitors following her closely. As they drew near the buoy, Craven from the pilot-house of his ship saw it so nearly in line with the beach that he turned to his pilot and said, "It is impossible that the admiral means us to go inside that buoy; I cannot turn my ship." At the same moment the Tennessee, which till that time had lain to the eastward of the buoy, went ahead to the westward of it, and Craven, either fearing she would got away from him or moved by the seeming narrowness of the open way, gave the order "Starboard" and pushed the Tecumseh straight at the enemy. She had gone but a few yards and the lockstring was already taut in the hands of an officer of the enemy's ship, Lieutenant Wharton, waiting to fire as they touched, when one or more torpedoes exploded under her. She lurched from side to side, careened violently over, and went down head foremost, her screw plainly visible in the air for a moment to the enemy, that waited for her, not two hundred yards off, on the other side of the fatal line. It was then that Craven did one of those deeds that should be always linked with the doer's name, as Sidney's is with the cup of cold water. The pilot and he instinctively made for the narrow opening leading to the turret below. Craven drew back: "After you, pilot," he said. There was no afterward for him; the pilot was saved, but he went down with his ship.
When the Tecumseh sank, the Brooklyn was about three hundred yards astern of her and a little outside; the Hartford between one and two hundred yards from the Brooklyn, on her port quarter; the Richmond about the same distance from the Hartford and in the Brooklyn's wake. The Winnebago, the second astern of the Tecumseh, was five hundred yards from her, and the Manhattan in her station, two hundred yards ahead of the Winnebago; both, however, skirting the beach and steering to pass inside of the buoy, as they had been ordered. The sunken vessel was therefore well on their port bow. Unmoved by the fate of their leader, the three remaining ironclads steamed on in line ahead, steadily but very slowly, being specially directed to occupy the attention of the guns ashore, that were raking the approaching ships. As they passed, the admiration of the officers of the flag-ship and Metacomet was aroused by the sight of Commander Stevens, of the Winnebago, walking quietly, giving his orders, from turret to turret of his unwieldy vessel, directly under the enemy's guns. Five minutes later were seen from the Brooklyn certain objects in the water ahead, which were taken at the moment for buoys to torpedoes. The ship and her consort were stopped and then began to back, coming down upon the next astern; at the same time their bows fell off toward the fort and they soon lay nearly athwart the channel. The Hartford's engines were at once stopped, but, as she held her way and drifted on with the flood-tide, her bow approached dangerously near the Brooklyn's stern and the Richmond was close behind; fortunately the rest of the fleet had opened out somewhat. While the vessels were thus close the admiral hailed to know what was the matter. "Torpedoes ahead," was the reply. Farragut, who did not go heedlessly into action, had reckoned on torpedoes and counted the cost. Without any seeming hesitation, though in the story of his life it appears that for a moment he felt overcome till he could throw himself on a Power greater than his own, he ordered his own ship and his consort ahead, at the same time making the signal "Close order." From the position of the Brooklyn it was no longer possible to pass inside, and accordingly, backing the Metacomet and going ahead with the flagship, their heads were turned to the westward and they passed outside of the fatal buoy, about five hundred yards from the fort. As they went over the line the torpedo cases were heard knocking against the bottom of the ship and the primers snapping,[31] but none of the torpedoes themselves exploded and the Hartford went safely through.
Yet, in the midst of Farragut's grave anxieties about the great issues touching his fleet, the drowning men on board the Tecumseh had not been forgotten, and, while still fettered by the Brooklyn's action, he hailed Captain Jouett, of the Metacomet,[32] to know if he had not a boat that he could send to save them. Jouett, having seen the disaster, and not having the other cares on his mind, had by a few instants forestalled the admiral, and the boat was about leaving the port quarter of the Metacomet, in charge of Ensign H.C. Nields, an officer of the Volunteer Navy. She pulled round under the Hartford's stern and broadside, across the bows of the Brooklyn, toward the wreck, where she saved the pilot, John Collins, and nine of the ship's company. While on his way Nields, who was but a lad, did one of those acts, simple in intention, which appeal strongly to the feelings and imagination and indicate the calm self-possession of the doer. He was steering the boat himself, and his captain, who was watching, saw him, after pulling some fifty yards, look up and back to see if the flag was flying; missing it, he stooped down, took it out of the cover in which it is habitually kept and shipped it, unfurled, in its place in the boat before the eyes of friends and foes. His heroic and merciful errand was not accomplished without the greatest risk, greater than he himself knew; for not only did he pass under the continued and furious fire of the fort and the fleet, but the ensign of the forecastle division of the Hartford, seeing the boat without a flag and knowing nothing of its object, but having torpedoes uppermost in his mind, connected its presence with them, trained one of his hundred-pounders upon it,[33] and was about to pull the lockstring when one of the ship's company caught his arm, saying: "For God's sake, don't fire! it is one of our own boats!" The Hartford had passed on when Nields had picked up the survivors, and, after putting them aboard the Winnebago, he pulled down to the Oneida, where he served during the rest of the action. Two officers and five men had also escaped in one of the Tecumseh's boats, which was towing alongside, and four swam to the fort, where they were made prisoners; so that twenty-one were saved out of a complement of over one hundred souls.
Meanwhile the Brooklyn was lying bows on to the fort, undergoing a raking fire and backing down upon the starboard bow of the Richmond, whose engines were stopped, but the vessel drifting up with the young flood-tide. Her captain, seeing a collision in such critical circumstances imminent, gave the order to back hard both his own ship and her consort; fearing that, if the four became entangled, not only would they suffer damage themselves, but, if sunk by the fire of the fort, would block the channel to the rest of the squadron. As she backed, the Richmond's bow fell off to port, bringing her starboard broadside fairly toward the fort and batteries, on which she kept up a steady and rapid fire, at a distance of from three hundred to one hundred and fifty yards, driving the enemy out of the water-battery and silencing it; being at the same time wrapped in a cloud of smoke which hid her hull and rose above her lower mast-heads.
As her topmasts were down, the ship was thus so completely hidden that Buchanan, the Confederate admiral, who had had her captain under him as a midshipman in days long gone by, and again as first lieutenant of a corvette during the war with Mexico, asked after the surrender: "What became of Jenkins? I saw his vessel go handsomely into action and then lost sight of her entirely." While thus backing and fighting the ship was in great danger of getting aground, having at times less than a foot of water under her keel; but her commander thought the situation so critical as to necessitate the risk. During the same time the Brooklyn, from her unfortunate position, was unable to use any but her bow guns, and, even when her hull was obscured by the smoke of the battle, her position was shown to the gunners of the fort by her tall spars towering above. These moments of anxiety were ended when she brought her head once more in the right direction and steamed on; the Richmond followed with the other ships of the port column, which had closed up and joined in the action during the delay. Their fire, with the monitors', kept down that of the fort until the bulk of the fleet had gone by, but when the heavier ships were out of range the enemy returned to their guns and severely punished the rear of the line; the last ship, the Oneida, receiving a VII-inch rifle shell, which passed through her chain armor and into the starboard boiler, where it burst, the larger part of the watch of firemen being scalded by the escaping steam. About the same moment a similar projectile burst in the cabin, cutting both wheel-ropes, while her forward XI-inch gun and one of the VIII-inch were disabled. In this condition the Oneida was pulled past the forts by her consort, the Galena.
As the Hartford advanced over the line of torpedoes the three smaller gunboats of the enemy took their position on her starboard bow and ahead, whence they kept up a raking and most galling fire, to which the Hartford, confined to the direction of the channel, could only reply with her bow guns, one of which was speedily disabled by a shell bursting under it. As the flag-ship advanced they retreated, keeping their distance and range about the same, from one thousand to seven hundred yards, and fighting mainly the stern guns. At no period of the action did she suffer as now, and the quarters of her forward division became a slaughter-pen; a single shot killing ten and wounding five men, while the splinters and shreds of bodies were hurled aft and on to the decks of her consort. The greater part of the ship's company had never been in action, but so admirable was their spirit and discipline that no wavering was seen, nor was there any confusion even in reorganizing the more than decimated crews of the guns. The Tennessee meantime waited for her, Buchanan having set his heart on sinking the enemy's admiral, but as the ram stood down the Hartford put her helm to starboard and, having the greater speed, avoided the thrust without difficulty. Two shots were fired by the ram at the same moment at such short range that it seemed wonderful they missed. The Tennessee then followed up the bay till her opponent was about a mile from his own fleet, when for some reason she gave up the pursuit and turned to meet the other wooden ships, which were advancing in close order, the Brooklyn still leading. The Tennessee stood for the latter vessel, as though intending to ram, but sheered off and went by on her starboard side, at less than one hundred yards, firing two shots, which struck and went through and through, and receiving the contents of the Brooklyn's guns in return. She passed on down the line to the Richmond, which was ready with her broadside and a party of musketeers, who kept up a brisk fire into the ram's ports. Whether the aim was thus disordered or there was not time to lay the guns properly after reloading, the two shots flew high and no harm was done. The Tennessee passed the next ship, the Lackawanna, also on the starboard side, but then made a determined sheer toward the line as though certainly intending to ram. Captain Strong of the Monongahela seeing this, headed for her, putting his helm to port and then shifting it so as to strike at right angles, but the Monongahela could not get her full speed, from having the gunboat Kennebec in tow alongside; she therefore struck the ram somewhat glancing and on her port quarter. The blow threw the Tennessee's stern around and she passed close along the port side of the Kennebec, injuring the planking on the latter's bow and leaving one of her boats and its iron davit with the gunboat as a memento of the collision. As she went by she fired a shell which entered the berth-deck and exploded, seriously wounding an officer and four men. The Ossipee, which was on the port quarter of the Monongahela when the collision took place, seeing how the ram was heading, also put her helm to port following the Monongahela's motion; but when the ram swung round under the blow she righted it and the Tennessee passed between the two, giving the Ossipee two shots, which entered nearly together below the spar-deck abreast the forward pivot gun. The ram then passed on the starboard side of the crippled Oneida, about a hundred yards off, and tried to fire her broadside; but the primers snapped several times, and she only succeeded in getting off one gun, the shot from which hit the after XI-inch pivot, which had just been fired at and struck her. She then passed under the Oneida's stern, delivering a raking fire, and severely wounding Commander Mullany, who lost an arm. At this moment the Union iron-clads which, in obedience to their orders, had delayed before the fort, occupying its guns until the fleet had passed, drew near the rear wooden ships and opened their fire on the Tennessee. As the enemy passed under the stern of the Oneida the Winnebago came up and took position between the two, upon which the crew of the crippled ship, who were expecting to be rammed, leaped upon the rail and cheered Commander Stevens, lately their own captain,[34] he having left them but a few days before.
About the time that the Tennessee gave up her pursuit of the Hartford, the flag ship reached the point where she was able to keep away a little to the westward. As she did so her starboard broadside came to bear and the Confederate gunboats edged off, though still keeping up a hot fire from their stern guns. A shot soon struck the Gaines under the port counter below water, and a shell striking soon after near the same place on the starboard side exploded, also below water, and started a heavy leak in the magazine. At this time the admiral directed the Metacomet to cast off and chase the gunboats, specially cautioning her commander to let none of them escape to Mobile; and a signal to the same effect was made to the lighter vessels in the rear. Jouett, who had been impatiently waiting, cut his fasts, backed clear, and pressed hard after the three, who retreated up the bay. The Gaines had to haul off toward Morgan at 8.30, the leak increasing rapidly, but the other two kept on still. The Metacomet, not being able to fire straight ahead, yawed once or twice to discharge her bow gun; but finding she lost too much ground by this discontinued it, though the enemy were still keeping up a harassing fire. The chase led her into shoal water, the leadsman in the chains reporting a foot less than the ship drew. The executive officer, having verified the sounding, reported it to the captain, who, intent simply upon carrying out his orders, and seeing that the bottom was a soft ooze, replied: "Call the man in; he is only intimidating me with his soundings." Soon after this a heavy squall accompanied by rain and dense mist came up, and during it the Morgan, which was on the starboard bow of the Metacomet, first got aground, and then getting off ran down to the southeastward toward Fort Morgan. The Selma kept straight on, as did the Metacomet; and when the squall lifted the latter found herself ahead and on the starboard bow of her chase. One shot was fired, killing the executive officer and some of the crew of the Selma, and then the latter hauled down her flag, having lost five killed and ten wounded. The other Union gunboats being far in the rear and embarrassed by the mist did not succeed in cutting off the others—both of which escaped under Fort Morgan. The Gaines being wholly disabled was burnt; the Morgan made good her escape to Mobile the same night.
After passing down the Union line, Buchanan said to his flag-captain, it being then about half-past eight: "Follow them up, Johnston, we can't let them off that way." Five minutes later the Hartford anchored four miles from Morgan, and the crew were sent to breakfast. Captain Drayton went up on the poop and said to the admiral: "What we have done has been well done, sir; but it all counts for nothing so long as the Tennessee is there under the guns of Morgan." "I know it," said the admiral, "and as soon as the people have had their breakfasts I am going for her."[35] Buchanan by his move thus played directly into Farragut's hands. From some difficulty in the ground it was found necessary to bring the head of the Tennessee round toward Morgan, and this, with the length of time occupied in the manœuvre and the improbability of her attacking the whole fleet by daylight, caused the admiral to think that she had retired under the guns of the fort. He was soon undeceived. At ten minutes before nine, when the crew had hardly got seated at their breakfast, the Tennessee was reported approaching. The mess-gear was hustled aside, and the flag-ship at once got under way, as did the other vessels that had anchored, and signal was made to the monitors to destroy the ram and to the Monongahela, Lackawanna, and Ossipee to ram the enemy's principal vessel. These ships took ground to carry out their orders, and when the Tennessee was about four hundred yards from the fleet the Monongahela struck her fairly amidships on the starboard side. Just before the blow the ram fired two shells, which passed through her enemy's berth-deck, one exploding and wounding an officer and two men. She then passed on the starboard side of the Monongahela and received a broadside at the distance of ten yards, but without harm. The Lackawanna followed, striking a square blow on the port side at the after end of the casemate. The Tennessee listed over heavily and swung round, so that the two vessels lay alongside head and stern, the port sides touching; but as the Lackawanna's battery had been mostly shifted to the starboard side to engage the fort she had only one IX-inch gun available, the shot from which struck one of the enemy's port shutters driving fragments into the casemates. The Lackawanna then kept away, making a circuit to ram again. She had her stem cut and crushed from three feet above the water-line to five below, causing some leakage, and the Monongahela had her iron prow carried away and the butt ends of the planking started on both bows; but the only damage caused to the Tennessee, protected by her sponsons, was a leak at the rate of about six inches an hour. The flag-ship now approached to ram, also on the port side; but the Tennessee turned toward her so that the bluff of the port bow in each ship took the blow. The Hartford's anchor was hanging from the hawse-pipe, there not having been time to cat it, and acted as a fender, being doubled up under the blow, and the two vessels rasped by, the port sides touching. Most of the Hartford's battery was also on the starboard side, but there were still seven IX-inch guns which sent out their solid shot with their heaviest charge of powder; yet at a distance of ten feet they did the Tennessee no harm. The primers of the latter again failed her, being heard by the flagship's people to snap unsuccessfully several times; one gun finally went off, and the shell exploding on the berth-deck killed and wounded an officer and several men. This was the last shot fired by the Tennessee. The Hartford put her helm to starboard and made a circle to ram again, but in mid career the Lackawanna ran into her, striking near the person of the admiral, who had a narrow escape from being killed, and cutting the flag-ship down to within two feet of the water.
Meanwhile the monitors had come up. The Manhattan had lost the use of one of her XV-inch guns early in the day by a fragment of iron which dropped into the vent and could not be got out; she was therefore able to fire only six of her heavy shot, one of which broke through the port side of the casemate leaving on the inside an undetached mass of oak and pine splinters. The Winnebago's turrets could not be turned, so the guns could only be trained by moving the helm and her fire was necessarily slow. The Chickasaw was more fortunate; her smoke-stack had been pierced several times by the fort, so that her speed had run down and she had not yet reached the anchorage when the Tennessee came up, but by heaping tallow and coal-tar on the furnaces steam was raised rapidly and she closed with the enemy immediately after the Hartford rammed and fired. Passing by her port side and firing as she did so, she took position under her stern, dogging her steadily during the remainder of the fight, never over fifty yards distant, and at times almost touching, keeping up an unremitting fire with her four XI-inch guns.[36]