Meanwhile, the ram had cleared herself from us and dropped slowly astern in the darkness. She soon reappeared again, however, steaming up stream as though preparing to give us another blow. As she came within range we depressed our guns and fired at her as best we could in the darkness. But as she was so low in the water and the mist was so thick she was a most difficult object to distinguish, and she soon disappeared.
By this time the Head of the Passes was in a state of tremendous excitement. The signal from the ram had been followed by the appearance of a line of fire-rafts up the river, drifting ominously down upon us, while by their light the spars of a bark-rigged vessel, and the smokestacks of two other steamers, could be seen in their rear. It was evidently a well planned attack in force.
Our little fleet, meanwhile, had all slipped their cables, and the Preble came standing across our stern under sail, her commander hailing: “What are my orders, sir?”
This was the critical point of the whole affair. Of course, it is very easy to say now what the orders should have been. But just at that moment things looked very squally for us. We had a hole five inches in diameter knocked clean through us and three planks were stove in two feet below the water line.
This was the result of the first blow from a ram that might, for all we knew, at any moment repeat her blow and send us to the bottom of the river. We had no idea then that she had disabled herself in her first essay, as proved to be the case, and might readily have been captured by us when daylight came.
We did know, however, that with the Richmond out of the way, our two sailing consorts in that swift-running river would prove an easy prey to the rebel steamers.
Oh no; it was not an easy question to decide in a moment. Farragut, as we all know, when in a tight place in Mobile bay, a year later, and the ship ahead of him answered his question why she had stopped with a reply, “Torpedoes ahead!” sang out: “Torpedoes be d—d; go ahead full speed!” But unfortunately in our navy in 1861 we did not have Farraguts “enough to go ’round.”
After hastily consulting with his executive officer, Captain Pope gave the order by night signal: “Proceed down the river.”
And down the river we all went, the Preble ahead, followed by the Vincennes, and we in the Richmond bringing up the rear. Captain Winslow of the Water Witch appears to have understood our signal as, “Act at discretion;” as he reports that he steamed over to the other side of the river, then northerly, easily clearing the fire-rafts, which drifted harmlessly ashore. At 5.30 A. M. he says “he made out our fleet three or four miles down the river and no enemy in sight above; although he could see the smoke of three or four steamers four or five miles up the river.” He then steamed down after us, picking up the Frolic on the way.
At early daylight I was directed by the captain to go up to the mizzen topmast crosstrees and report what was in sight. I found the Water Witch and Frolic steaming down to us, and far up the river I could distinguish the smoke of the Confederate steamers.