ALONG THE MISSISSIPPI. -- FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP SURRENDER.
-- THE BATTLE AT ST. CHARLES. -- THE RAM "ARKANSAS." --
BOMBARDMENT AND CAPTURE OF PORT HUDSON.
While New Orleans was thus excited over the capture of the city, the
soldiers in the forts below were debating as to the course they should
adopt. They had not surrendered; and although the great bastions were
pounded out of shape by the heavy guns of the fleet, yet they were
still formidable defences, giving perfect security to the men in the
bomb-proofs. But their case was hopeless: for Farragut was at New
Orleans, and could cut off their supplies; while Porter, with his
mortar-boats, was below them, putting escape out of the question.
Every now and then a big shell would drop on the parade, and its
flying pieces would remind the garrison that their enemies were
getting impatient. After waiting a day or two, Porter sent a
lieutenant with a flag of truce to the fort, calling upon the
Confederate commander to surrender the two forts and the shattered
remnant of the Confederate navy. He complimented the Confederates upon
their gallant defence, but warned them, that, should they refuse to
surrender, he would recommence his bombardment with new vigor. The
Confederates refused to surrender until they heard from New Orleans;
and the next day the monotonous thunder of the heavy mortars began
again, and again the heavy shells began falling thick and fast upon
the forts. Wearily the gray-coated soldiers settled down to continue
what they felt must be a useless defence. The officers did their best
to inspirit the men; but all knew that a surrender must come before
long, and at last the men mutinously left their guns, and said they
would fight no longer. They had borne without flinching a terrible
bombardment, and now they felt that to fight longer would be a foolish
sacrifice of life. Many left the forts, and plunged into the woods to
escape the terrible shells. Gen. Duncan saw that all was lost, and on
the night of the 28th of April sent an officer to the fleet announcing
the surrender. On the following day Porter proceeded up-stream with
his squadron, and anchored off the fort. A boat, manned by six trim
sailors in dress uniforms, put off, and soon returned, bringing the
commander of the defeated forces and two or three officers. They were
received on the "Harriet Lane," and Commodore Porter had made great
preparations for the meeting. The crews of all the vessels were
dressed in snow-white mustering-suits, and the officers in
brass-buttoned blue coats and white trousers. The decks were scrubbed,
and all traces of the fight cleared away. As the Confederate officers
came up to the fleet, one of them, a former lieutenant in the Union
navy, said, "Look at the old navy. I feel proud when I see them. There
are no half-breeds there: they are the simon-pure." As the
Confederates came over the side, Porter stood, with his officers,
ready to receive them. The greatest politeness was observed on either
side; and Porter writes, "Their bearing was that of men who had gained
a victory, instead of undergoing defeat." While the papers of
capitulation were being signed, a message came from the deck that the
huge Confederate iron-clad "Louisiana" was drifting down upon them, a
mass of flames, and there was great danger that she would blow up in
the midst of the Union fleet. "This is sharp practice, gentlemen,"
said Porter, "and some of us will perhaps be blown up; but I know what
to do. If you can stand what is coming, we can; but I will make it
lively for those people if anybody in the flotilla is injured."
"I told Lieut. Wainwright to hail the steamer next him," writes Capt.
Porter, "and tell her captain to pass the word for the others to veer
out all their riding-chains to the bitter end, and stand by to sheer
clear of the burning iron-clad as she drifted down. I then sat down to
the table, and said, 'Gentlemen, we will proceed to sign the
capitulation.' I handed the paper to Gen. Duncan, and looked at the
Confederate officers to see how they would behave under the
circumstances of a great iron-clad dropping down on them, all in
flames, with twenty thousand pounds of powder in her magazines. For
myself, I hoped the fire would not reach the powder until the ship had
drifted some distance below us. My greatest fear was that she would
run foul of some of the steamers.
"While I was thinking this over, the officers were sitting as coolly
as if at tea-table among their friends.
"Just then there was a stir on deck, a kind of swaying of the vessel
to and fro, a rumbling in the air, then an explosion which seemed to
shake the heavens. The 'Harriet Lane' was thrown two streaks over, and
every thing in the cabin was jostled from side to side; but not a man
left his seat, or showed any intention of doing so.
"I was glad that I had signed before the explosion took place, as I
would not have liked to have my autograph look shaky."
The destruction of the "Louisiana" was a bit of trickery on the part
of the Confederate naval officers, which Farragut punished by sending
them North as close prisoners, while the army officers were granted
freedom under parole. So ended the Confederate control over the mouth
of the Mississippi; and Porter, after waiting long enough to see a
blue-coat garrison in Forts St. Philip and Jackson, started up the
river to rejoin his chief in New Orleans.
But, on reaching the city, he found that the energetic admiral had
already started out to clear the river of the Confederate batteries
that lined it on either side as far up as Vicksburg. This was a
service of no little danger, and one bringing but little satisfaction;
for no sooner had the gunboats left one point, from which by hard
firing they had driven the Confederates, than the latter would return
in force, build up again their shattered earthworks, mount new guns,
and be once more ready for battle. But more powerful than these little
one or two gun-batteries were the Confederate works at Port Hudson,
the destruction of which was absolutely necessary for further Union
successes on the great river. Between Port Hudson and Vicksburg, the
river was completely under the control of the Confederates; and it was
a powerful gunboat that could hope to navigate that stretch of water
unharmed. Farragut determined to attack Port Hudson, and set the 14th
of March, 1863, as the date for the action.
Port Hudson batteries were perched on a high bluff that overlooks one
of those abrupt curves around which the current of the Mississippi
River sweeps with such terrific force. The heavy guns bore down upon a
point at which the ships would almost inevitably be swept out of their
course by the swift stream, and where the river was filled with
treacherous shifting shoals. Naval officers all agreed that to pass
those batteries was a more difficult task than had been the passage of
the forts below New Orleans; yet Farragut, eager to get at the
stronghold of the foe in Vicksburg, determined to make the attempt.
The mortar-vessels were stationed below to drive the enemy from his
guns with well-directed bombs; while the fleet, led by the stanch old
"Hartford," should make a bold dash up the river.
Night fell upon the scene; and the ships weighed anchor, and started
upon their perilous voyage. To the side of each man-of-war was bound a
gunboat to tow the great vessel out of danger in case of disaster.
Silently the long string of vessels swept upward towards the
batteries; but, as the "Hartford" came into range, the watchful
Confederates gave the alarm, and the nearest battery at once opened
fire. Then from Porter's mortar-schooners far down the river came an
answering roar; and, as ship after ship came up into range, she opened
with shot and shell upon the works. On the dark river-banks great
alarm fires were kindled, lighting up the water with a lurid glare,
and making the ships clearly visible to the Confederate gunners. But
soon the smoke of battle settled down over all; and gunners, whether
on shore or on the ships, fired at random. The "Hartford" led the way,
and picked out the course; and the other vessels followed carefully in
her wake. In the mizzen-top of the flagship was stationed a cool old
river pilot, who had guided many a huge river steamer, freighted with
precious lives, through the mazy channels of the Mississippi. There,
high above the battle-smoke, heedless of the grape-shot and bits of
flying shell whistling around him, he stood at his post, calmly giving
his orders through a speaking-tube that led to the wheel-room. Now and
then the admiral on the deck below would call up, asking about the
pilot's safety, and was always answered with a cheery hail. But though
the "Hartford" went by the batteries, heedless of the storm and lead
poured upon her, she found herself alone, when, after firing a last
gun, she swept into the clear air and tranquil water out of range of
the enemy's guns. She waited some time for the other ships to come up,
while all on board watched eagerly, save those who lay moaning on the
surgeon's tables in the cock-pit below. The night wore on, and all on
board were consumed with anxiety for the fate of the vessels that had
dropped behind. The lookout in the tops reported that he could see far
down the river a bright red light that could only be caused by a
burning vessel. It proved to be the steamer "Mississippi," that had
grounded under the guns of the batteries, and had been fired and
abandoned by her crew. But of this the admiral knew nothing; and when,
after an hour or two he heard the dull, heavy boom of an explosion, he
went sadly to his cabin, fearing that the lives of many valiant
sailors had been sacrificed. There was no way to communicate with the
fleet below, and it was not until days afterward that the admiral
learned how his fleet had been beaten back by the heavy guns of the
Confederates and the swift current of the river. The "Richmond"
grounded at a point within easy range of the batteries, and her crew
fought desperately while shell after shell went crashing through her
hull. They saw the other vessels of the fleet go drifting by helpless
in the mighty current of the river, but they faltered not in their
brave defence until they saw their ship a wreck and in flames. Then
leaving their dead comrades with the "Richmond" for a funeral pyre,
they escaped to the shore, and threaded their way through miles of
morasses and dense thickets until they came to the mortar-boats, where
they found refuge and rest. And so that first attack on Port Hudson
ended with Farragut above the batteries, and his ships, below. It had
only served to prove, that, safe in their heavy earthworks, the
Confederates could defy any attack by ships alone. This fact was clear
to the Union authorities, and they began massing troops about the
hostile works. Two months later, Porter's mortar-boats, the frigates
and gunboats, and the batteries and muskets of an immense body of
troops, opened on the works. While the heavy fire was being kept up,
the Union armies were closing in, digging trenches, and surrounding
the Confederates on all sides. The firing came to be short-range work
and very deadly. "To show you what cool and desperate fighting it
was," says a Confederate, "I had at least twenty-five shots at
Federals not two hundred feet away. In one instance I fired upon a
lieutenant who was urging on his men. I wounded him in his left arm.
He fired at me with his revolver, and sent a bullet through my cap.
Next time I hit him in the hip, and he fell;, but, while I was
reloading, he raised himself up, and shot the man next to me through
the head. The officer was so close to me that I could tell the color
of his eyes, and detect a small scar on his face."
This sort of work continued for weeks, with occasional charges by the
Federals. Farragut's fleet kept up its bombardment, but did little
damage. One of the Confederate soldiers said, some time after the war,
"One can get used to almost any thing. After the first two or three
days, we took the bombardment as part of the regular routine. Pieces
of shell were continually flying about, and it was the regular thing
for a bomb to drop down among us at intervals. I have seen them come
down within fifty feet of a sentinel, and throw up a wagon-load of
dirt, without his even turning his head. We had but few men hurt by
the artillery-fire. I do not believe we averaged one man hit for every
thousand pounds of metal thrown. I remember that one day I counted
thirteen shells and bombs hurled at the spot where I was posted before
we had a man hurt, and he was only slightly wounded." Naturally, such
work as this could not drive the Confederates from their trenches; and
the fleet soon concluded to leave the army to capture Port Hudson,
while the ships steamed on up the river toward Vicksburg. The army
kept up the siege for weeks, until the Confederates, hearing of the
fall of Vicksburg, surrendered.
While the Union fleet was thus fighting its way up to Vicksburg, the
Confederates were working away at a great ram that they were building
in a secluded spot far up the Yazoo River. Work on the ram was being
pushed with the greatest energy; and the Union sailors, in their ships
on the Mississippi, listened daily to the stories of escaping negroes,
and wondered when the big ship would come down and give them a tussle.
The crew of the ram were no less impatient for the fray; for they were
tired of being hidden away up a little river, plagued by mosquitoes
and gnats. The dark shades of the heavy forests were seldom brightened
by a ray of sun. The stream was full of alligators, that lay lazily on
the banks all day, and bellowed dismally all night. The chirp of a
bird was rarely heard. In its place were the discordant screams of
cranes, or hisses of the moccasins or cotton-mouths. When at last the
carpenters' clatter had ceased, and the ram, ready for action, lay in
the little river, the crew were mustered on the deck, and told that
the new boat had been built to clear the Union vessels from the
Mississippi, and that purpose should be carried out. No white flag was
to flutter from that flagstaff; and she should sink with all her crew
before she would surrender. Any sailor who feared to enter upon such a
service might leave the ship at once. No one left; and the "Arkansas"
started down the river to look for an enemy. She was not long in
finding one. At the mouth of the Yazoo floated three Union
gunboats,--the "Carondelet," the "Tyler," and the "Queen of the West."
As the ram came down into sight, her men heard the roll of the drums
on the decks of the hostile vessels. The gunboats quickly opened fire,
which was as promptly returned by the "Arkansas;" and, as she came
swiftly rushing down the stream, the three vessels fled before her.
The men on the ram were all new recruits, and made awkward work of the
firing; but as she came to close quarters she sent her shells crashing
into the Union ships, while the shot she received in return rattled
harmlessly off her steel-mailed sides. The "Carondelet" was the first
vessel to come to grief. She had hardly fired four shots when a heavy
solid shot crashed through her side, and rattled against the most
delicate part of the engine. She was helpless at once; and hardly had
this damage been reported when a second shot came with a burst into an
open port, killed five men, and broke its way out the other side. In
ten minutes her decks were slippery with blood, and thick strewn with
wounded and dead men. The current of the river drifted her upon a
sandbar; and she lay there helplessly, now and again answering the
galling fire of her foe with a feeble shot. Pouring in a last
broadside, the "Arkansas" steamed past her, and, disregarding the
other two vessels, headed for Vicksburg, where she knew her aid was
sorely needed.
The news of her coming preceded her; and, when she came within sight
of the steeples of the city, at least ten thousand people were
watching her progress, and wondering whether she could pass by the
Federal batteries and through the Federal fleet. The Federal fleet was
all ready for her, and prepared such a gauntlet for the "Arkansas" as
had never been run by any vessel. As she came within range, every
Union gun that could be brought to bear opened; and shot and shell
rained from shore-batteries and marine guns upon the tough hide of the
ram. As she sped by the vessels, they gave her their broadsides, and
the effect was tremendous. As the huge iron balls struck the ship, she
keeled far over; and to her crew inside, it seemed as though she was
being lifted bodily out of the water. Not a shot broke through the
armor; but the terrible concussions knocked men down, and made blood
come pouring from their nostrils. For new men, her crew fought well
and bravely; though two fell flat on their faces, afraid to lift their
heads, lest they be taken off by a shell.
[Illustration: The "Arkansas" under Fire.]
When it was seen that the "Arkansas" was likely to pass through the
lines unscathed, the Federals tried to blockade her way; but she
deviated not an inch from her path. The vessel that stood before her
had to move aside, or take the chances of a blow from her terrible
iron beak. She came straight to the centre of the fleet before opening
fire; and when her portholes were opened, and the big guns peered out,
they found plenty of targets. Her first volley knocked a gunboat to
pieces; and in another minute she had crashed into the side of a Union
ram, sending that unlucky craft ashore for repairs. But the storm of
solid shot was too much for her; and she was forced to seek shelter
under the bluffs, where the heavy guns of the Confederate
shore-batteries compelled the Union ships to keep a respectful
distance. Here she lay for several weeks, beating off every assault of
the Federals, and making a valuable addition to the defences of the
city. But, in an evil hour, the Confederate authorities decided to
send her down the river to recapture Baton Rouge. When her journey was
but half completed, she was pounced upon by several United States
vessels, with the "Essex" in the lead. Her engines breaking down, she
drifted upon a sand-bank; and the attacking ships pounded her at their
leisure, until, with the fire bursting from her portholes, she was
abandoned by her crew, and blazed away until her career was ended by
the explosion of her magazine. She had given the Federal fleet some
hard tussles, but beyond that had done nothing of the work the
Confederates so fondly hoped of her.
While the flotilla of gunboats, led by the "Essex," were planning for
the destruction of the "Arkansas," a small naval expedition,
consisting of three gunboats, was threading its way up the narrow
channel of the White River in search of some Confederate batteries
said to be on the banks. Within twelve hours from the start, the
sailors learned from a ragged negro, whom they captured on the shore,
that the Confederates had powerful batteries only five miles farther
up, and that the river channel was obstructed by sunken vessels.
Anchor was cast for the night; and in the morning the troops
accompanying the expedition were landed, and plunged into the forest
with the plan of taking the fort by a rush from the rear. The gunboats
began a slow advance up the river, throwing shells into the woods
ahead of them. The blue-jackets kept carefully under cover; for,
though they could see no foe, yet the constant singing of
rifle-bullets about the ships proved that somewhere in those bushes
were concealed sharp-shooters whose powder was good and whose aim was
true. The "Mound City" was leading the gunboats, and had advanced
within six hundred yards of the enemy's guns, when a single shot,
fired from a masked battery high up the bluffs, rang out sharply amid
the rattle of small-arms. It was the first cannon-shot fired by the
Confederates in that engagement, and it was probably the most horribly
deadly shot fired in the war. It entered the port-casemate forward,
killed three men standing at the gun, and plunged into the boiler. In
an instant the scalding steam came hissing out, filling the ship from
stem to stern, and horribly scalding every one upon the gun-deck. The
deck was covered with writhing forms, and screams of agony rang out
above the harsh noise of the escaping steam and the roar of battle
outside. Many were blown overboard; more crawled out of the portholes,
and dropped into the river to escape the scalding steam, and
struggling in the water were killed by rifle-balls or the fragments of
the shells that were bursting all around. The helpless gunboat turned
round and round in the stream, and drifted away, carrying a crew of
dead and dying men. So great was the horror of the scene, that one of
the officers, himself unhurt, who saw his comrades thus tortured all
about him, went insane.
While this scene was going on before the fort, the Union troops had
come up behind it, and with a cheer rushed over the breastworks, and
drove the garrison to surrender. The Confederate banner fell from the
staff, and the stars and stripes went up in its place. But how great
was the price that the Federals had to pay for that victory! That
night, with muffled drums, and arms reversed, the blue-jackets carried
to the grave fifty-nine of their comrades, who twelve hours before
were active men. With three volleys of musketry the simple rites over
the sailors' graves were ended; and those who were left alive, only
said with a sigh, "It is the fortune of war."