On this page of unwritten history McPherson and Oliver, the New Orleans
war-time photographers, have caught the crew of the staunch old "Hartford"
as they relaxed after their fiery test. In unconscious picturesqueness
grouped about the spar-deck, the men are gossiping or telling over again
their versions of the great deeds done aboard the flagship. Some have
seized the opportunity for a little plain sewing, while all are interested
in the new and unfamiliar process of "having their pictures taken." The
notable thing about the picture is the number of young faces. Only a few
of the old salts whose bearded and weather-beaten faces give evidence of
service in the old navy still remain. After the great triumph in Mobile
Bay, Farragut said of these men: "I have never seen a crew come up like
ours. They are ahead of the old set in small arms, and fully equal to them
at the great guns. They arrived here a mere lot of boys and young men, and
have now fattened up and knocked the nine-inch guns about like twenty-four
pounders, to the astonishment of everybody. There was but one man who
showed fear and he was allowed to resign. This was the most desperate
battle I ever fought since the days of the old 'Essex.'" "It was the
anxious night of my life," wrote Farragut later. The spar-deck shown below
recalls another speech. "Don't flinch from that fire, boys! There is a
hotter fire for those who don't do their duty!" So shouted Farragut with
his ship fast aground and a huge fire-raft held hard against her wooden
side by the little Confederate tug "Mosher." The ship seemed all ablaze
and the men, "breathing fire," were driven from their guns. Farragut,
calmly pacing the poop deck, called out his orders, caring nothing for the
rain of shot from Fort St. Philip. The men, inspired by such coolness,
leaped to their stations again and soon a shot pierced the boiler of the
plucky "Mosher" and sank her.
[Illustration: SPAR-DECK OF THE "HARTFORD"]