As has been already mentioned, Farragut had fully determined to run
into the bay, on the 4th of August, but had been prevented from doing
so by the non-arrival of the monitor Tecumseh. But on the afternoon of
the 4th she arrived, and took up her anchorage behind Sand Island, with
the others of her class--the Winnebago, Manhattan, and Chickasaw.
On the morning of the 5th, long before daylight, all hands were
called “up hammocks,” and while the Admiral, his Fleet-Captain and
Fleet-Surgeon were having breakfast, daylight was reported, with
weather threatening rain. It was Friday, a day of bad omen for sailors;
but the clouds worked round, and the day came fair, which was, on the
other hand, a good omen. The wind was west-southwest, too, just where
the fleet wanted it, for it would blow the smoke upon Fort Morgan.
At four o’clock the wooden ships formed in double column, lashed
securely in pairs, in the following order, the first mentioned of each
pair being the starboard vessel, or that next the fort. (The Admiral
had concluded to let another ship lead, and he was second.) Here is the
order:--
{Brooklyn, Captain James Alden.
{Octorara, Lieutenant-Commander Green.
{Hartford (flag-ship), Fleet-Captain Drayton.
{Metacomet, Lieutenant-Commander Jouett.
{Richmond, Captain Thornton Jenkins.
{Port Royal, Lieutenant-Commander Gherardi.
{Lackawanna, Captain Marchand.
{Seminole, Commander Donaldson.
{Monongahela, Commander J. H. Strong.
{Kennebec, Lieutenant-Commander McCann.
{Ossipee, Commander Wm. E. LeRoy.
{Itasca, Lieutenant-Commander George Brown.
{Oneida, Commander Mullany.
{Galena, Lieutenant-Commander Wells.
The Brooklyn was appointed to lead, because she had four chase guns and
apparatus for picking up torpedoes.
At half-past five, while at the table, still sipping his tea, the
Admiral quietly said, “Well, Drayton, we might as well get under way.”
Immediately the answering signals were shown from every vessel, and
the wooden vessels promptly took up their respective stations, while
the monitors came out from under Sand Island and formed on the right
of the wooden ships, as follows: Tecumseh, Commander T. A. M. Craven;
Manhattan, Commander J. W. A. Nicholson; (these were single-turreted,
Eastern built, or sea monitors). The Winnebago, Commander T. A.
Stevens; and the Chickasaw, Lieutenant-Commander Perkins, followed.
The two last were double-turreted, Western built monitors, from the
Mississippi river.
The leading monitor was abreast of the leading wooden ship.
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.”
By half-past seven the Tecumseh was well up with the fort, and drawing
slowly by the Tennessee, having her on the port beam, when she suddenly
reeled to port and went down, with almost every soul on board,
destroyed by a torpedo. Commander Craven, in his eagerness to engage
the ram, had passed to the west of the fatal buoy. If he had gone but
the breadth of his beam to the eastward of it, he would have been safe,
so far as the torpedoes were concerned.
This very appalling disaster was not immediately realized by the fleet.
Some supposed the Tennessee had been sunk, or some signal advantage
gained over the enemy, and cheers from the Hartford were taken up
and echoed along the line. But the Admiral, from his lofty perch,
saw the true state of things, and his anxiety was not decreased when
the leading ship, the Brooklyn, just ahead of him, suddenly stopped.
Hailing the top, above him, he asked Freeman, the pilot, “What is
the matter with the Brooklyn? She must have plenty of water there.”
“Plenty, and to spare, Admiral,” the pilot replied. Alden had seen the
Tecumseh suddenly engulfed, and the heavy line of torpedoes across the
channel made him pause.
The Brooklyn then began to back; the vessels in the rear pressing on
those in the van soon created confusion, and disaster seemed imminent.
“The batteries of our ships were almost silent,” says an eye-witness,
“while the whole of Mobile Point was a living flame.
[Illustration: FARRAGUT ENTERING MOBILE BAY.]
“What’s the trouble?” was shouted, through a trumpet, from the
flag-ship to the Brooklyn. “Torpedoes!” was shouted back, in reply.
“Damn the torpedoes!” said Farragut “Four bells! Captain Drayton, go
ahead! Jouett, full speed!” And the Hartford passed the Brooklyn,
assumed the head of the line, and led the fleet to victory. It was
the one only way out of the difficulty, and any hesitation would have
closed even this escape from a frightful disaster. Nor did the Admiral
forget the few poor fellows who were struggling in the water when
the Tecumseh went down, but ordered Jouett, of the Metacomet, to lower
a boat and pick them up. This was done, the boat being commanded
by a mere boy, an Acting Master’s mate, by the name of Henry Clay
Nields, a native of Chester County, Pennsylvania, who lately died, a
Lieutenant-Commander. This gallant fellow and his small boat’s crew
pulled coolly into a perfect flurry of shot and shell, and while doing
so (remembering the standing orders about boats showing flags), he
coolly got his out and hoisted it, and then took his seat again, and
steered for the struggling survivors of the Tecumseh. This was as
conspicuous an act of gallantry as was performed on that eventful day.
A Confederate officer, who was stationed in the water battery at Fort
Morgan, says the manœuvring of the vessels at this critical juncture
was a magnificent sight. At first they appeared to be in inextricable
confusion, and at the mercy of their guns, and when the Hartford
dashed forward, they realized that a grand tactical movement had been
accomplished.
The Hartford had passed nearly a mile ahead before the line could be
straightened, but the vessels were soon able to pour in a storm of
shell, shrapnel and grape, that completely silenced the batteries;
not, however, before they had all suffered more or less. The Oneida,
having the most exposed position, at the rear of the column, was
severely handled. The wisdom of lashing the vessels two-and-two was
now manifest; for this ship, though in a helpless condition, was
easily towed along by her consort, the Galena, with the flood-tide.
The Admiral’s theory, “that the safest way to prevent injury from an
enemy is to strike hard yourself,” was exemplified in his warning to
his captains, to run close to Fort Morgan, and use shell, shrapnel and
grape freely. It is said that the Richmond and Brooklyn were saved
from destruction at the time the line was being straightened, by the
rapid broadsides of shrapnel which those ships poured into the water
battery. The aim of the artillerists on shore was disconcerted by the
dense smoke which enveloped the ships, and they were driven from their
guns by the rapid firing. An officer who was in the engagement remarks,
that it was “painfully apparent, judging from the number of shot that
passed over the rail of my ship, that a few yards to the west would
have increased the damage and casualties.”
As soon as the Hartford had crossed the torpedo-ground and was steaming
rapidly up the channel, Buchanan, on the Tennessee, saw the blue
flag of Farragut. He made a dash to ram the latter’s flag-ship, but
failed to do so, the ships merely exchanging shots. By this time the
Brooklyn and Richmond had passed safely over the obstructions, and
were following in the wake of the Hartford. The Tennessee now turned
her attention to the Brooklyn, making for her starboard bow; but when
within about one hundred yards of that ship, she starboarded her helm
and passed within two hundred feet of her, pouring in a broadside
which went through and through her, doing great damage. Passing on,
she attempted the same manœuvre with the Richmond, the next in line,
apparently first attempting to ram, and then sheering off. Captain
Jenkins saw her approaching, and placed marines on the forecastle, with
orders to fire into the great ram’s ports whenever the iron shutters
opened, at the same time giving orders to use solid shot in his heavy
guns, and to aim at the Tennessee’s water-line. The two vessels passed
each other at their best speed.
Whether from the rapidity of the movement or the precaution taken by
Captain Jenkins to disconcert the aim of the gunners, the Tennessee’s
shot passed over the Richmond.
She also missed the Lackawanna, but the fire from her heavy guns
created sad havoc when they struck, while the shot from the Union fleet
failed to make any impression on her mailed sides.
Captain Strong, in the Monongahela, now attempted to ram her, but she
avoided the blow, and the two vessels collided at an acute angle, the
ram swinging alongside of the Monongahela’s consort, the Kennebec,
whose sharp cutwater sheared her barge in two. A shell from the
Tennessee exploded on the Kennebec’s berth-deck, and came near setting
her dangerously on fire; but, by the cool conduct of the officers,
confidence was quickly restored.
The ram then attacked the crippled Oneida, running under her stern and
delivering two broadsides in rapid succession, destroying her boats
and dismounting a twelve-pound howitzer upon her poop. Captain Mullany
was severely wounded at this time, after having escaped injury off the
forts, where he had borne so heavy a fire.
The Tennessee then returned to her anchorage under the guns of Fort
Morgan.
As soon as he was clear of the fire of the forts, Farragut had turned
his attention to the enemy’s gun-boats. Their heavy raking fire had
been a source of great annoyance. One shot from the Selma, alone,
had killed ten men and wounded five. After the fleet had passed the
obstructions these vessels had continued the contest, keeping up with
the leading ships and exchanging shots, thus separating themselves
widely from the Tennessee.
Soon the Gaines was in a sinking condition, and her commander ran her
aground, under the guns of Fort Morgan, where she was afterwards set on
fire.
A few minutes after she had quitted the fight, the Selma and Morgan,
seeing the hopelessness of the encounter, also retreated, the former up
the bay, and the latter down towards Navy Cove, some distance to the
eastward.
It was then that the Admiral made the signal, “Gunboats chase enemy’s
gunboats.” In a moment the Metacomet had cut the lashings which
confined her to the flagship, and was off.
The Metacomet was the fastest of all the smaller vessels, and so it
came that she engaged the Morgan. Just then firing was interrupted
by a thick rain-squall. During the squall the Morgan, as was learned
afterwards, grounded upon a long spit which runs out for about a mile
from Navy Cove.
In the meantime the Metacomet, Port Royal, Kennebec, and Itasca had
started after the Selma, and the Metacomet captured her, three or four
miles up the bay. The Morgan backed off the shoal, and proceeded to
Fort Morgan; and that same night, under a starlit sky, her captain,
Harrison, made a hazardous but successful retreat up to Mobile, being
pursued and fired at by several of the Union gun-boats.
Farragut’s fleet now came to anchor about three miles up the bay, with
anchors hove short. They had scarcely done so when they saw the ram
Tennessee steering directly for the flag-ship. Buchanan had anticipated
Admiral Farragut, for the latter had intended to attack the ram the
moment it was dark enough for the smoke to prevent Page, the commander
of the fort, from distinguishing friend from foe. He had already made
a plan to go in with the three monitors, himself in the Manhattan, and
board her, if it was found feasible. He now accepted the situation, and
signalled the fleet to “attack the ram, not only with their guns, but
bows on, at full speed.”
The Monongahela was under way at the time, and Strong immediately
dashed off for the ram at full speed; but the Tennessee paid no
attention to her, merely putting her helm aport, which caused the
Monongahela to strike her obliquely. The ram also fired two shots at
the Monongahela, which pierced her through and through, while Strong’s
shot glanced harmlessly from her sloping sides.
The Chickasaw at this time hit the ram with a solid bolt, which merely
penetrated her armor, without doing serious damage.
The next vessel to bear down on the Tennessee was the Lackawanna, and
she suffered more than the ram. She had a fair stroke at her, and stove
her bow in for some feet above and below the water-line, while the
shock to the Tennessee was slight, and she quickly righted, and moved
steadily for the Hartford. The latter now took the aggressive, and,
following in the wake of the Lackawanna, struck the ram a fearful blow,
and then poured in a broadside, but all without effect.
The ram had one great advantage. She was surrounded by enemies, and
could fire continually, while the Union vessels had to use the utmost
care not to fire into or collide with one another. This did happen to
the flag-ship, just as she was preparing to attack a second time, for
the Lackawanna ran into her, and cut her down nearly to the water’s
edge.
In the meantime the monitors, Manhattan, Winnebago and Chickasaw, had
been pounding the ram with their heavy shot, and her steering apparatus
and smoke-stack were shot away, and her port-shutters jammed, while
one 15-inch shot had found a weak spot, and penetrated her armor.
Admiral Buchanan was wounded, and the Tennessee showed a white flag and
surrendered.
The success was complete, but had cost the Union fleet three hundred
and thirty-five men.
Of one hundred and thirty souls in the Tecumseh, seventeen were
saved, and one hundred and thirteen drowned. The other casualties,
fifty-two killed and one hundred and seventy wounded, were distributed
as follows: Hartford, twenty-five killed, twenty-eight wounded;
Brooklyn, eleven killed, forty-three wounded; Lackawanna, four killed,
thirty-five wounded; Oneida, eight killed, thirty wounded; Monongahela,
six wounded; Metacomet, one killed, two wounded; Ossipee, one killed,
seven wounded; Richmond, two slightly wounded; Galena, one wounded;
Octorara, one killed, ten wounded; Kennebec, one killed, six wounded.
Knowles, the Signal Quartermaster already mentioned, says that the
Admiral came on deck just as the poor fellows who had been killed were
being laid out on the port side of the quarter-deck. He says, “It was
the only time I ever saw the old gentleman cry, but the tears came in
his eyes, like a little child.”
The losses among the enemy’s vessels were confined to the Tennessee and
Selma--ten killed and sixteen wounded. The loss in the forts is not
known.