The Confederate vessels took up position in single line, in echelon, across the channel, with their port batteries bearing to rake the advancing fleet. The ram Tennessee was a little westward of the red buoy spoken of already, and close to the inner line of torpedoes.
Farragut had ordered six light steamers and gun-boats to take up a position outside, and open a flank fire on Fort Morgan, but they could not get near enough to be of much service.
And now the attacking fleet steamed steadily in. At 6.47 the first gun was fired by the monitor Tecumseh, and Fort Morgan at once replied. As the wooden vessels came within shorter range Farragut made signal for “closer order,” which was promptly obeyed, each vessel closing up to within a few yards of the one ahead, and a little on the starboard quarter, thus enabling such ships as had chase guns to bring them to bear.
The battle had opened, but at that time the enemy had the advantage, and the fleet now received a raking fire from the fort, battery, and Confederate vessels. This they had to endure for fully half an hour, before they could bring their batteries to bear with any effect. At the end of that time the Brooklyn and Hartford were enabled to open their broadsides, which soon drove the gunners of the fort from the barbette guns and water batteries.
The scene on the poop of the flag-ship was now particularly interesting, as all were watching eagerly the movements of the leading monitor, Tecumseh. The Admiral stood in the port main rigging, a few ratlines up, where he could see all about him and at the same time communicate easily with the Metacomet, lashed alongside. Freeman, his trusty pilot, was above him, in the top. Captain Drayton was on the poop, with the officers of the Admiral’s staff, while Knowles, the Signal Quartermaster, attended to the signals. This petty officer, with the three seamen at the wheel, McFarland, Wood and Jassin, had been in every engagement of the ship, and steadily and coolly they now attended to their most important duties. All these were nearly stationary. The men at the wheel merely gave a spoke or two of helm, from time to time, in response to a short order.
On the deck below, the gun crews were working with a will, and all was animation and bustle.
As the smoke increased and obscured his view, the Admiral ascended the rigging, ratline by ratline, until he was up among the futtock shrouds, under the top. Captain Drayton, seeing him in this position, and fearing that some slight shock might precipitate him into the sea, ordered Knowles to take up a line, and make his position secure. Knowles says, “I went up with a piece of lead-line, and made it fast to one of the forward shrouds, and then took it round the Admiral to the after shroud, making it fast there. The Admiral said, ‘Never mind, I am all right,’ but I went ahead and obeyed orders, for I feared he would fall overboard if anything should carry away or he should be struck.” Here Farragut remained until the fleet entered the bay.
Loyall Farragut gives a striking extract from the journal of one of the Hartford’s officers, as follows: “The order was, to go slowly, slowly; and receive the fire of Fort Morgan. * * * * 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 meantime 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.
“At twenty minutes past seven we had come within range of the enemy’s gun-boats, which opened their fire upon the Hartford, and as the Admiral told me afterward, made her their special target. First they struck our foremast, and then lodged a shot of 120 pounds in our mainmast. By degrees they got better elevation, and I have saved a splinter from the hammock netting to show how they felt their way lower. Splinters, after that, came by cords, and in size, sometimes, were like logs of wood. No longer came the cheering cry, ‘nobody hurt yet.’ The Hartford, by some unavoidable chance, fought the enemy’s fleet and fort together for twenty minutes by herself, timbers crashing, and wounded pouring down—cries never to be forgotten.”