The sailors of the mortar fleet enjoyed this amusement with the greatest zest, and pursued their work among the logs with laughter and enthusiastic cheering. When the floating monster had been sent blackened and smoking down the river, they retired to their various boats and slept soundly in preparation for the contest of the following day.
On the mortar fleet a portion of the day was given to the very singular duty of disguising the vessels. Large quantities of branches were cut from the forest trees on the banks of the river, which were bound with all their fresh leaves to the masts, rigging, and around the hulls. This was so adroitly done that from the distance it was impossible to distinguish the fleet from the groups of trees on the banks, thus concealing the position of the vessels entirely from the enemy.
On the following morning, Good Friday, April 18th, at early dawn, the towing vessels of Commodore Porter’s fleet took each five mortar boats, and proceeded up the river to their fighting station. The fleet thus in motion presented a splendid spectacle—the noble steamers leading a group of vessels, each embowered in green, as though some oasis of lofty trees had migrated from their forest home and were on an excursion to a distant shore. The larger number were anchored on the right bank of the river, while five were put in position on the left bank.
At nine o’clock precisely, and before all the mortar boats had taken their position, the rebels opened fire. It was instantly returned by the mortars, and the grandest naval engagement of the war, and one of the most memorable bombardments in the history of the world commenced.
For some time the fire of the forts fell short of the range, but after about an hour their shot passed over the vessels and fell harmless beyond the fleet. The mortar practice for the first half hour exhibited a similar defect, but the range was then obtained, and the bombs fell thick and fast over and around the entrenched foe. At ten o’clock the Iroquois, Cayuga, Sciota and Wissahickon opened upon the forts with their 11-inch shells and fifteen-second fuses.
The scene now became one of thrilling grandeur. The loud roar of the mortars as they hurled their immense projectiles into the air, the quick succession of guns from the war ships, and the rapid discharges from the forts in reply; the flashes of fire, the clouds of smoke, as they rolled blackly together, filling the air, and the shells flying up to a great altitude, then pencilling their arching line against the blue sky as they sped to their mark, passing and repassing in almost momentary rapidity, presented a spectacle awfully sublime. At times eight or ten of the destructive missiles were to be seen rushing away on their errands of death and destruction at the same moment, sometimes exploding and scattering the fragments in wide circles over the water, throwing it up in vast silver columns, or on the shore plowing up the earth and sending soil and foliage in thick masses high in the air.
The rebels diversified their operations during the day by again sending two immense fire-rafts down the river, which would have occasioned much confusion among the fleet, but for the precautions already taken, and the previous experience of the sailors in the reception of these pyrotechnic visitors. The sailors not employed at the guns were allowed to witness the contest from the yards and rigging of the vessels. As soon as the rafts appeared they were called down from their places, manned the boats, and soon piloted these burning islands to the shore, where they were left to smoulder away for the entertainment of the fleet. These rafts were now regarded as a side-play. At six o’clock Fort Jackson was reported to be on fire, and at half-past six the Harriet Lane signalled the mortar boats to cease firing. Two of these boats were struck during the day. The cabin of one was destroyed by a shot, and a ball plunged through the magazine of another which sent her out of the action for an hour in order to make repairs. The men on board had been exhausted by their heavy labors, and when the night came they were heartily glad to rest.
A morning of serene beauty dawned upon the fleet, with a light south-east wind, that gradually increased in volume till about ten o’clock. Notwithstanding the breeze, the sun was warm, and the heat sometimes oppressive. At half-past six the mortar boats opened the bombardment. The fire at first was slow, and the vessels which were on the left bank of the river the day before, were placed in position on the other bank near the anchorage. At seven o’clock the gunboats Oneida, Pinola and Sciota were sent up to support and cover the mortar vessels, while the Wissahickon and Cayuga were relieved—having been on duty twenty-four hours. As soon as these vessels had opened fire, Fort Jackson replied from her casemate guns, and kept up a very heavy fire.
At half-past eleven o’clock a rifle shot went through the schooner Maria J. Carlton, and she sunk in about twenty minutes. Everything was saved from her except the mortar, and only two or three men were injured slightly by splinters.
Just after the sinking of the M. J. Carlton the gunboats Itasca and Kineo were ordered into close action, the Owasco being sent up by Captain Porter to assist. The firing now was frequent and terrific. Each moment it seemed as if some one of the boats must be sunk. The Oneida attracted much attention by her coolness and her heavy fire. At two o’clock she was struck twice, one ten-inch solid shot from a Columbiad striking a thirty-two pounder gun-carriage and knocking off one of the trucks, and passing out of the ship on the port side. Shortly afterwards another shot of the same description hit the forward part of the starboard after port, striking the carriage of an eleven-inch pivot gun and then lodging on deck. This shot wounded nine men, but none mortally. One poor fellow lost his left hand. The pivot gun of the Oneida was not injured, but the pivot rail was slightly damaged, and to repair it she hauled out of action.