AUTHOR SETS OUT FOR RICHMOND--IS TWO WEEKS IN MAKING THE
JOURNEY--INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT DAVIS; WITH GENERAL LEE--AUTHOR IS
APPOINTED A REAR-ADMIRAL, AND ORDERED TO COMMAND THE JAMES RIVER
SQUADRON--ASSUMES COMMAND; CONDITION OF THE FLEET--GREAT
DEMORALIZATION--THE ENEMY'S ARMIES GRADUALLY INCREASING--LEE'S LINES
BROKEN.
I telegraphed my arrival, immediately, to the Secretary of the Navy at
Richmond, informing him of my intention to proceed to that capital after
resting for a few days. The following reply came over the wires, in the
course of a few hours. "Congratulate you, on your safe arrival. When ready
to come on, regard this as an order to report to the Department." I did
not, of course, dally long at home. The enemy was pressing us too hard for
me to think of sitting down in inglorious ease, so long as it was possible
that I might be of service. At all events, it was my duty to present
myself to the Government, and see if it had any commands for me.
Accordingly, on the 2d of January, 1865, I put myself _en route_ for
Richmond. I was two weeks making my way to the capital of the Confederacy,
owing the many breaks which had been made in the roads by raiding parties
of the enemy, and by Sherman's march through Georgia. Poor Georgia! she
had suffered terribly during this Vandal march of conflagration and
pillage, and I found her people terribly demoralized. I stopped a day in
Columbia, the beautiful capital of South Carolina, afterward so
barbarously burned by a drunken and disorderly soldierly, with no officer
to raise his hand to stay the conflagration. Passing on, as soon as some
temporary repairs could be made on a break in the road, ahead of me, I
reached Richmond, without further stoppages, and was welcomed at his
house, by my friend and relative, the Hon. Thomas J. Semmes, a senator in
the Confederate Congress from the State of Louisiana.
I had thus travelled all the way from the eastern boundary of Mexico, to
Richmond, by land, a journey, which, perhaps, has seldom been performed.
In this long and tedious journey, through the entire length of the
Confederacy, I had been painfully struck with the changed aspect of
things, since I had left the country in the spring of 1861. Plantations
were ravaged, slaves were scattered, and the country was suffering
terribly for the want of the most common necessaries of life. Whole
districts of country had been literally laid waste by the barbarians who
had invaded us. The magnificent valley of the Red River, down which, as
the reader has seen, I had recently travelled, had been burned and
pillaged for the distance of a hundred and fifty miles. Neither Alaric,
nor Attila ever left such a scene of havoc and desolation in his rear.
Demoniac Yankee hate had been added to the thirst for plunder.
Sugar-mills, saw-mills, salt-works, and even the grist-mills which ground
the daily bread for families, had been laid in ashes--their naked chimneys
adding ghastliness to the picture. Reeling, drunken soldiers passed in and
out of dwellings, plundering and insulting their inmates; and if
disappointed in the amount of their plunder, or resisted, applied the
torch in revenge. Many of these miscreants were foreigners, incapable of
speaking the English language. The few dwellings that were left standing,
looked like so many houses of mourning. Once the seats of hospitality and
refinement, and the centres of thrifty plantations, with a contented and
happy laboring population around them, they were now shut up and
abandoned. There was neither human voice in the hall, nor neigh of steed
in the pasture. The tenantless negro cabins told the story of the war. The
Yankee had liberated the slave, and armed him to make war upon his former
master. The slaves who had not been enlisted in the Federal armies, were
wandering, purposeless, about the country, in squads, thieving, famishing,
and dying. This was the character of the war our _brethren_ of the
North--God save the mark--were making upon us.
To add to the heart-sickening features of the picture, our own people had
become demoralized! Men, generally, seemed to have given up the cause as
lost, and to have set themselves at work, like wreckers, to save as much
as possible from the sinking ship. The civilians had betaken themselves to
speculation and money-getting, and the soldiers to drinking and
debauchery. Such, in brief, was the picture which presented itself to my
eyes as I passed through the Confederacy. The _Alabama_ had gone to her
grave none too soon. If she had not been buried with the honors of war,
with the howling winds of the British Channel to sing her requiem, she
might soon have been handed over to the exultant Yankee, to be exhibited
at Boston, as a trophy of the war.
My first official visit in Richmond was, of course, to the President. I
found him but little changed, in personal appearance, since I had parted
with him in Montgomery, the then seat of government, in April, 1861. But
he was evidently deeply impressed with the critical state of the country,
though maintaining an outward air of cheerfulness and serenity. I
explained to him briefly, what, indeed, he already knew too well, the loss
of my ship. He was kind enough to say that, though he deeply regretted her
loss, he knew that I had acted for the best, and that he had nothing with
which to reproach me. I dined with him on a subsequent day. There was only
one other guest present. Mrs. Davis was more impressed with events than
the President. With her womanly instinct, she already saw the handwriting
on the wall. But though the coming calamity would involve her household in
ruin, she maintained her self-possession and cheerfulness. The Congress,
which was in session, received me with a distinction which I had little
merited. Both houses honored me by a vote of thanks for my services, and
invited me to a privileged seat on the floor. The legislature of Virginia,
also in session, extended to me the same honors.
As soon as I could command a leisure moment, I paid General Lee a visit,
at his headquarters near Petersburg, and spent a night with him. I had
served with him in the Mexican war. We discussed together the critical
state of the country, and of his army,--we were now near the end of
January, 1865,--and I thought the grand old chieftain and Christian
gentleman seemed to foreshadow, in his conversation--more by manner than
by words--the approaching downfall of the cause for which we were both
struggling. I had come to him, I told him, to speak of what I had seen of
the people, and of the army, in my transit across the country, and to say
to him, that unless prompt measures could be devised to put an end to the
desertions that were going on among our troops, our cause must inevitably
be lost. He did not seem to be at all surprised at the revelations I made.
He knew all about the condition of the country, civil and military, but
seemed to feel himself powerless to prevent the downward tendency of
things. And he was right. It was no longer in the power of any one man to
save the country. The body-politic was already dead. The people themselves
had given up the contest, and this being the case, no army could do more
than retard the catastrophe for a few months. Besides, his army was,
itself, melting away. That very night--as I learned the next morning, at
the breakfast table--160 men deserted in a body! It was useless to attempt
to shoot deserters, when demoralization had gone to this extent.
After I had been in Richmond a few weeks, the President was pleased to
nominate me to the Senate as a rear-admiral. My nomination was unanimously
confirmed, and, in a few days afterward, I was appointed to the command of
the James River fleet. My commission ran as follows:--
CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA,
NAVY DEPARTMENT, RICHMOND, February 10, 1865.
REAR-ADMIRAL RAPHAEL SEMMES.
SIR:--You are hereby informed that the President has appointed you,
by and with the advice of the Senate, a _Rear-Admiral_, in the
Provisional Navy of the Confederate States, "_for gallant and
meritorious conduct, in command of the steam-sloop Alabama_." You are
requested to signify your acceptance, or non-acceptance of this
appointment.
S. R. MALLORY,
_Secretary of the Navy_.
An old and valued friend, Commodore J. K. Mitchell, had been in command of
the James River fleet, and I displaced him very reluctantly. He had
organized and disciplined the fleet, and had accomplished with it all that
was possible, viz., the protection of Richmond by water. I assumed my
command on the 18th of February, 1865. My fleet consisted of three
iron-clads and five wooden gunboats. I found my old first lieutenant,
Kell, who had preceded me to Richmond, and been made a commander, in
command of one of the iron-clads, but he was soon obliged to relinquish
his command, on account of failing health. As reorganized, the fleet stood
as follows:--
_Virginia_, iron-clad, flag-ship, four guns, Captain Dunnington.
_Richmond_, iron-clad, four guns, Captain Johnson.
_Fredericksburg_, iron-clad, four guns, Captain Glassel.
_Hampton_, wooden, two guns, Captain Wilson, late of the _Alabama_.
_Nansemond_, wooden, two guns, Captain Butt.
_Roanoke_, wooden, two guns, Captain Pollock.
_Beaufort_, wooden, two guns, Captain Wyatt.
_Torpedo_, wooden, one gun, Captain Roberts.
The fleet was assisted, in the defence of the river, by several shore
batteries, in command of naval officers; as Drury's Bluff; Battery Brooke;
Battery Wood, and Battery Semmes--the whole under the command of my old
friend, Commodore John R. Tucker.
I soon had the mortification to find that the fleet was as much
demoralized as the army. Indeed, with the exception of its principal
officers, and about half a dozen sailors in each ship, its _personnel_ was
drawn almost entirely from the army. The movements of the ships being
confined to the head-waters of a narrow river, they were but little better
than prison-ships. Both men and officers were crowded into close and
uncomfortable quarters, without the requisite space for exercise. I
remedied this, as much as possible, by sending squads on shore, to drill
and march on the river-bank. They were on half rations, and with but a
scanty supply of clothing. Great discontent and restlessness prevailed.
Constant applications were coming to me for leaves of absence--almost
every one having some story to tell of a sick or destitute family. I was
obliged, of course, to resist all these appeals. "The enemy was thundering
at the gates," and not a man could be spared. Desertion was the
consequence. Sometimes an entire boat's crew would run off, leaving the
officer to find his way on board the best he might. The strain upon them
had been too great. It was scarcely to be expected of men, of the class of
those who usually form the rank and file of ships' companies, that they
would rise above their natures, and sacrifice themselves by slow but sure
degrees, in any cause, however holy. The visions of home and fireside, and
freedom from restraint were too tempting to be resisted. The general
understanding, that the collapse of the Confederacy was at hand, had its
influence with some of the more honorable of them. They reasoned that
their desertion would be but an anticipation of the event by a few weeks.
To add to the disorder, the "Union element," as it was called, began to
grow bolder. This element was composed mainly of Northern-born men, who
had settled among us before the war. In the height of the war, when the
Southern States were still strong, and when independence was not only
possible, but probable, these men pretended to be good Southerners. The
Puritan leaven, which was in their natures, was kept carefully concealed.
Hypocrisy was now no longer necessary. Many of these men were preachers of
the various denominations, and schoolmasters. These white-cravatted
gentlemen now sprang into unusual activity. Every mail brought long and
artfully written letters from some of these scoundrels, tempting my men to
desert. Some of these letters came under my notice, and if I could have
gotten hold of the writers, I should have been glad to give them the
benefit of a short shrift, and one of my yard-arms. If I had had my fleet
upon the sea, it would have been an easy matter to restore its discipline,
but my ships were, in fact, only so many tents, into which entered freely
all the bad influences of which I speak. I was obliged to perform
guard-boat duty on the river, and picket duty on shore, and these duties
gave my men all the opportunities of escape that they desired.
With regard to the defence of Richmond by water, I felt quite secure. No
fleet of the enemy could have passed my three iron-clads, moored across
the stream, in the only available channel, with obstructions below me,
which would hold it under my fire, and that of the naval batteries on
shore by which I was flanked. Indeed, the enemy, seeing the hopelessness
of approach by water, had long since given up the idea. The remainder of
the winter passed slowly and tediously enough. A few months earlier, and I
might have had something to occupy me. For a long time, there was no more
than a single iron-clad in the lower James, the enemy being busy with
Charleston and Wilmington. An attack on City Point, Grant's base of
operations, and whence he drew all his supplies, would have been quite
practicable. If the store-houses at that place could have been burned,
there is no telling what might have been the consequences. But now,
Charleston and Wilmington having fallen, and the enemy having no further
use for his iron-clad fleet, on the coasts of North and South Carolina, he
had concentrated the whole of it on the lower James, under the command of
Admiral Porter, who, as the reader has seen, had chased me, so
quixotically, in the old frigate _Powhattan_, in the commencement of the
war. At first, this concentration looked like a preparation for an
attempted ascent of the river, but if any attempt of the kind was ever
entertained by Porter, he had the good sense, when he came to view the
"situation," to abandon it.
I usually visited the Navy Department, during this anxious period, once a
week, to confer with the Secretary on the state of my fleet, and the
attitude of the enemy, and to receive any orders or suggestions that the
Government might have to make. Mr. Mallory was kind enough, on these
occasions, to give me _carte blanche_, and leave me pretty much to myself.
At length the winter passed, and spring set in. The winds and the sun of
March began to dry the roads, and put them in good order for military
operations, and every one anticipated stirring events. As I sat in my
twilight cabin, on board the _Virginia_, and pored over the map of North
Carolina, and plotted upon it, from day to day, the approaches of Sherman,
the prospect seemed gloomy enough. As before remarked, Charleston and
Wilmington had fallen. With the latter, we had lost our last
blockade-running port. Our ports were now all hermetically sealed. The
anaconda had, at last, wound his fatal folds around us. With fields
desolated at home, and all supplies from abroad cut off, starvation began
to stare us in the face. Charleston was evacuated on the 17th of
February--General Hardee having no more than time to get his troops out of
the city, and push on ahead of Sherman, and join General Joseph E.
Johnson, who had again been restored to command. Fort Anderson, the last
defence of Wilmington, fell on the 19th of the same month. Sherman was,
about this time, at Columbia, South Carolina, where he forever disgraced
himself by burning, or _permitting to be burned_, it matters not which,
that beautiful city, which had already surrendered to his arms. The
opportunity was too good to be lost. The Puritan was at last in the city
of the cavalier. The man of ruder habits and coarser civilization, was in
the presence of the more refined gentleman whom he had envied and hated
for generations. The ignoble passions of race-hatred and revenge were
gratified, and Massachusetts, through the agency of a brutal and debauched
soldiery, had put her foot upon the neck of prostrate South Carolina! This
was humiliation indeed! The coarse man of mills and manufactures had at
last found entrance as a master into the halls of the South Carolina
planter!
It was generally expected that Sherman would move upon Charlotte, North
Carolina, one of the most extensive depots of the South, and thence to
Danville, and so on to Richmond, to unite his forces with those of Grant.
There was nothing to oppose him. In ten days at the farthest, after
burning Columbia, he could have effected a junction with Grant before
Petersburg. But the "great commander" seemed suddenly to have lost his
courage, and to the astonishment of every one, soon after passing
Winsboro', North Carolina, which lies on the road to Charlotte, he swung
his army off to the right, and marched in the direction of Fayetteville!
His old antagonist, Johnston, was endeavoring to gather together the
broken remains of the Army of the Tennessee, and he was afraid of him. His
object now was to put himself in communication with Schofield, who had
landed at Wilmington and at Newbern with a large force, and establish a
new base of operations at these points. He would be safe here, as his
troops could be fed, and in case of disaster, he could fall back upon the
sea, and upon Porter's gunboats. He effected the contemplated junction
with Schofield, at Goldsboro', North Carolina, on the 21st of March. He
had not touched any of Lee's communications with his depots since leaving
Winsboro'; the destruction of which communications Grant had so much at
heart, and which had been the chief object of his--Sherman's--"great
march." At Goldsboro' he was still 150 miles from Grant's lines, and he
took no further part in the campaign.
His junction with Schofield had not been effected without disaster. At
Kinston, Bragg gained a victory over Schofield, utterly routing him, and
taking 1500 prisoners; and at Bentonsville, Johnston checked, and gained
some advantage over Sherman. As the reader is supposed to be looking over
the map with me, we will now stick a pin in the point representing
Goldsboro', and throw Sherman and Schofield out of view.
In the latter part of March, Sheridan, having overrun Early's small force,
in the valley of the Shenandoah, found himself at liberty to join General
Grant. He brought with him from 10,000 to 12,000 excellent cavalry.
Grant's army was thus swollen to 160,000 men. Adding Sherman's and
Schofield's forces of 100,000, we have 260,000. In the meantime, Lee's
half-starved, ragged army, had dwindled to 33,000. With this small number
of men he was compelled to guard an intrenched line of forty miles in
length, extending from the north side of the James River, below Richmond,
to Hatcher's Run, south of Petersburg. As a mere general, he would have
abandoned the hopeless task long ago, extricating his army, and throwing
it into the field, but _cui bono_? With Virginia in the enemy's
possession, with a _beaten people_, and an army fast melting away by
desertion, could the war be continued with any hope of success? If we
could not defend ourselves before Richmond, could we defend ourselves
anywhere? That was the question.
Grant's object was to force Lee's right in the vicinity of Hatcher's Run;
but he masked this intention, as much as possible, by occasionally
threatening the whole line. I had frequent opportunity, from the deck of
my flag-ship, to witness terrible artillery conflicts where nobody was
killed. Suddenly, on a still night, all the enemy's batteries would be
ablaze, and the heavens aroar with his firing. The expenditure of powder
was enormous, and must have gladdened the hearts of the Yankee
contractors. I would sometimes be aroused from slumber, and informed that
a great battle was going on. On one or two occasions, I made some slight
preparations for defence, myself, not knowing but Porter might be fool
enough to come up the river, under the inspiration of this powder-burning,
and booming of cannon. But it all amounted to nothing more than Chinese
grimaces, and "stink-pots," resorted to to throw Lee off his guard, and
prevent him from withdrawing men from his left, to reinforce his right.
The final and successful assault of Grant was not long delayed. The lines
in the vicinity of Petersburg having been weakened, by the necessity of
withdrawing troops to defend Lee's extreme right, resting now on a point
called the Five Forks, Grant, on the morning of Sunday, the 2d of April,
made a vigorous assault upon them, and broke them. Lee's army was
uncovered, and Richmond was no longer tenable!