You may see from this that Farragut had some hard work before him. Even if he got past the chains and the forts, all his ships might be set on fire by the fire-ships. But the bold captain was not one of the kind that mind things like that. Now let us go on to the story of the terrible river fight, which has long been one of the most famous battles of the war.
Porter's mortar boats were anchored under the trees on the river-bank, two miles below the forts. With their green-clad masts they looked like trees themselves. At ten o'clock in the morning of April 18, 1862, the first mortar sent its big shell whizzing through the air. And for six days this was kept up, each of the mortars booming out once every ten minutes. That made one shot for every half-minute.
Two days after the mortars began, a bold thing was done. The gunboat Itasca set out in the darkness of the night and managed to get between the shore and the chain. Then it ran up stream above the chain till it got a good headway. It now turned round and came down at full speed before the strong current.
Fort Jackson was firing, and balls were rattling all about the bold Itasca, but she rushed on through them all. Plump against the chain she came, with a thud that lifted her three feet out of the water. Then the chain snapped in two and away went the Itasca down stream. The barrier was broken and the way to New Orleans lay open before the fleet.
On the 23d of April Farragut gave his orders to the captains of the fleet. That night they were to try to pass the forts and fight their way to New Orleans. At two o'clock in the morning came the welcome order, "All hands up anchor!" and at three o'clock all was ready for the start.
The night was dark, but on the banks near Fort Jackson there was a blazing wood fire, that threw its light across the stream. And Porter's bombs were being fired as fast as the men could drop the balls into them, so that there was a great arch of fiery shells between the mortar boats and the forts.
The gunboat Cayuga led the way through the broken barrier. After her came the Pensacola, one of the large vessels. All this time the forts had kept still, but now they blazed out with all their guns, and the air was full of the booming of cannon and the screeching of shells from forts and ships.
Great piles of wood were kindled on the banks, and the fire-ships up stream were sent blazing down the river as the steam vessels came rushing up into the fire of the forts. Never had the Mississippi seen so terrible a night. The blazing wood and flashing guns made it as light as day, and the roar was like ten thunderstorms.
Soon the Hartford came on, with Farragut on her deck. So thick was the smoke that she ran aground, and before she could get off a fire-ship came blazing down against her side, pushed by a tug-boat straight on to her. In a minute the paint on the ship's side was in a blaze and the flames shot up half as high as the masts. The men at the guns drew back from the scorching heat.
"Don't flinch from that blaze, boys," cried Farragut. "Those who don't do their duty here will find a hotter fire than that."