DEWEY IN THE WAR FOR THE UNION.
No one needs to be reminded that the War for the Union was the greatest
struggle of modern times. The task of bringing back to their allegiance
those who had risen against the authority of the National Government was
a gigantic one, and taxed the courage and resources of the country to
the utmost. In order to make the war effective, it was necessary to
enforce a rigorous blockade over three thousand miles of seacoast, open
the Mississippi river, and overcome the large and well-officered armies
in the field. The last was committed to the land forces, and it proved
an exhausting and wearying struggle.
Among the most important steps was the second--that of opening the
Mississippi, which being accomplished, the Southwest, from which the
Confederacy drew its immense supplies of cattle, would be cut off and a
serious blow struck against the armed rebellion.
The river was sealed from Vicksburg to the Gulf of Mexico. At the former
place extensive batteries had been erected and were defended by an army,
while the river below bristled with batteries and guns in charge of
brave men and skilful officers.
While General Grant undertook the task of reducing Vicksburg, Captain
Farragut assumed the herculean work of forcing his way up the
Mississippi and capturing New Orleans, the greatest commercial city in
the South. Knowing that such an attack was certain to be made, the
Confederates had neglected no precaution in the way of defence. Ninety
miles below the city, and twenty miles above its mouth, at the
Plaquemine Bend, were the forts of St. Philip and Jackson. The former,
on the left bank, had forty-two heavy guns, including two mortars and a
battery of four seacoast mortars, placed below the water battery. Fort
Jackson, besides its water battery, mounted sixty-two guns, while above
the forts were fourteen vessels, including the ironclad ram _Manassas_,
and a partially completed floating battery, armored with railroad iron
and called the _Louisiana_. New Orleans was defended by three thousand
volunteers, most of the troops formerly there having been sent to the
Confederate army in Tennessee.
The expedition against New Orleans was prepared with great care, and so
many months were occupied that the enemy had all the notice they could
ask in which to complete their preparations for its defence. The Union
expedition consisted of six sloops of war, sixteen gunboats, twenty
mortar schooners and five other vessels. The _Mississippi_, upon which
young Dewey was serving as a lieutenant, was under the command of
Melanethon Smith. The land troops numbered 15,000, and were in charge of
General Benjamin F. Butler, of Massachusetts.
Farragut arrived in February, 1862, nearly two months after the
beginning of preparations to force the river. When everything was in
readiness the fleet moved cautiously up stream, on April 18, and a
bombardment of Forts St. Philip and Jackson was opened, which lasted for
three days, without accomplishing anything decisive. Farragut had
carefully studied the situation, and, confident that the passage could
be made, determined it should be done, no matter at what cost. On the
night of the 23d his vessels were stripped of every rope and spar that
could be spared, the masts and rigging of the gunboats and mortar
vessels being trimmed with the limbs of trees, to conceal their identity
from the Confederate watchers.
At two o'clock in the morning the signal was hoisted on the _Hartford_,
Captain Farragut's flagship, and the fleet started in single line to run
the fearful gauntlet. The _Cayuga_ led, the _Pensacola_ followed, and
the _Mississippi_ was third. The rebels had huge bonfires burning on
both shores, and as the _Pensacola_ came opposite the forts they opened
their furious fire upon her.
A good deal of uneasiness prevailed in the Union fleet regarding the
rebel rams. It was known they were formidable monsters, which the
Confederates believed could smash and sink the whole Union squadron.
While it was known that much was to be feared from the forts, it was the
ironclads that formed the uncertain factor and magnified the real danger
in many men's minds.
The _Mississippi_ was hardly abreast of Fort St. Philip when the dreaded
_Manassas_ came plunging down the river out of the gloom at full speed,
and headed directly for the _Mississippi._ She was not seen until so
close that it was impossible to dodge her, and the ironclad struck the
steamer on the port side, close to the mizzenmast, firing a gun at the
same time. Fortunately the blow was a glancing one, though it opened a
rent seven feet long and four inches deep in the steamer, which, being
caught by the swift current on her starboard bow, was swept across to
the Fort Jackson side of the river, so close indeed that her gunners and
those in the fort exchanged curses and imprecations.
[Illustration: SHELLING FORTS PHILIP AND JACKSON.]
The passage of the forts by the Union vessels forms one of the most
thrilling pictures in the history of the Civil War. The _Hartford_, like
all the vessels, was subjected to a terrible fire, was assailed by the
Confederate ironclads, and more than once was in imminent danger of
being sent to the bottom. Following with the second division, Captain
Farragut did not reply to the fire of the forts for a quarter of an
hour. He hurled a broadside into St. Philip and was pushing through the
dense smoke when a fire-raft, with a tug pushing her along, plunged out
of the gloom toward the _Hartford's_ port quarter. She swerved to elude
this peril and ran aground close to St. Philip, which, recognizing her
three ensigns and flag officer's flag, opened a savage fire, but luckily
most of the shot passed too high.
There was no getting out of the way of the fire-raft, which, being
jammed against the flagship, sent the flames through the portholes and
up the oiled masts. The perfect discipline of the crew enabled them to
extinguish the fire before it could do much damage, and the _Hartford_
succeeded in backing into deep water and kept pounding Fort St. Philip
so long as she was in range.
Without attempting to describe the battle in detail, we will give our
attention to the _Mississippi_. Within an hour and a quarter of the
time the leading vessel passed the forts, all had reached a safe point
above, where they engaged in a furious fight with the Confederate
flotilla, the smaller members of which were soon disabled or sunk.
[Illustration: THE "HARTFORD"--FARRAGUT'S FLAGSHIP.]
Meanwhile the ironclad _Manassas_ had been prowling at the heels of the
Union squadron, but being discovered by the _Mississippi_, the steamer
opened on her with so destructive a fire that the ram ran ashore and the
crew scrambled over the bows and escaped. The _Mississippi_ continued
pounding her until she was completely wrecked. The loss of the Union
fleet was thirty-seven killed and one hundred and forty-seven wounded,
while the Confederate land forces had twelve killed and forty wounded.
The Confederate flotilla must have lost as many men as the Unionists.
Having safely passed all obstructions, Captain Farragut steamed up to
the river to New Orleans, and the city surrendered April 25, formal
possession being taken on May 1.
It will be admitted that Lieutenant Dewey had received his "baptism of
fire."
It is the testimony of every one who saw him during the turmoil of
battle that he conducted himself with the coolness and courage of a
veteran. At no time during the passage of the forts and the desperate
fighting with the Confederate flotilla above did he display the first
evidence of nervousness or lack of self-possession.
[Illustration: IRONCLADS ON THE MISSISSIPPI.]
The next engagement in which Lieutenant Dewey took part was the attempt
by Farragut to pass the battery of nineteen guns, mounted on the
hundred-foot high bluff of Port Hudson, on a bend of the Mississippi,
below Vicksburg. The position was the most difficult conceivable to
carry from the river, because of the plunging shots from the enormous
guns on the bluff above.
Captain Farragut had no thought of reducing these batteries, which would
have been impossible with a fleet double the strength of his, but he
wished to get his vessels past in order to blockade the river above the
bend. The attempt was made on the night of March 14, 1863, with the
_Hartford_ in the lead, and followed by the _Richmond_, _Monongahela_
and _Mississippi_, with the smaller boats. The first three boats had as
consorts the _Albatross_, _Kineo_ and _Genessee_. Captain Mahan, in "The
Gulf and Inland Waters," gives the following vivid description of this
historical incident:
"As they drew near the batteries, the lowest of which the _Hartford_ had
already passed, the enemy threw up rockets and opened their fire.
Prudence, and the fact of the best water being on the starboard hand,
led the ships to hug the east shore of the river, passing so close under
the Confederate guns that the speech of the gunners and troops could be
distinguished. Along the shore, at the foot of the bluffs, powerful
reflecting lamps, like those used on locomotives, had been placed to
show the ships to the enemy as they passed, and for the same purpose
large fires, already stacked on the opposite point, were lit. The fire
of the fleet and from the shore soon raised a smoke which made these
precautions useless, while it involved the ships in a danger greater
than any from the enemy's guns. Settling down upon the water in a still,
damp atmosphere, it soon hid everything from the eyes of the pilots. The
flagship leading had the advantage of pushing often ahead of her own
smoke; but those who followed ran into it and incurred a perplexity
which increased from van to rear. At the bend of the river the current
caught the _Hartford_ on her port bow, sweeping her around with her head
toward the batteries, and nearly on shore, her stern touching the ground
slightly; but by her own efforts and the assistance of the _Albatross_
she was backed clear. Then, the _Albatross_ backing and the _Hartford_
going ahead strong with the engine, her head was fairly pointed up the
stream, and she passed by without serious injury. Deceived possibly by
the report of the howitzers in her top, which were nearly on their own
level, the Confederates did not depress their guns sufficiently to hit
her as often as they did the ships that followed her. One killed and two
wounded is her report; and one marine fell overboard, his cries for help
being heard on board the other ships as they passed by, unable to save
him."
If the capture of the batteries was impossible, their passage was almost
equally so. The _Richmond_ was so badly injured that she was compelled
to turn down stream, having suffered a loss of three killed and fifteen
wounded, while the _Monongahela_ had six killed and twenty-one wounded
before she was able to wrench herself loose from where she had grounded
and drift out of range.
Now came the _Mississippi_, whose tragic fate is graphically told by
Admiral Porter in his "Naval History of the Civil War":
"The steamship _Mississippi_, Captain Melancthon Smith, followed in the
wake of the _Monongahela_, firing whenever her guns could be brought to
bear. At 11:30 o'clock she reached the turn which seemed to give our
vessels so much trouble, and Captain Smith was congratulating himself on
the prospect of soon catching up with the flag officer, when his ship
grounded and heeled over three streaks to port.
"The engines were instantly reversed and the port guns run in in order
to bring her on an even keel, while the fire from her starboard battery
was reopened on the forts. The engines were backed with all the steam
that could be put upon them, and the backing was continued for thirty
minutes, but without avail.
"It was now seen that it would be impossible to get the ship afloat.
"Captain Smith gave orders to spike the port battery and throw the guns
overboard, but it was not done, for the enemy's fire was becoming so
rapid and severe that the Captain deemed it judicious to abandon the
ship at once in order to save the lives of the men.
"While preparations were being made to destroy the ship, the sick and
wounded were lowered into boats and conveyed ashore, while the men at
the starboard battery continued to fight in splendid style, firing at
every flash of the enemy's guns. The small arms were thrown overboard,
and all possible damage was done to the engine and everything else that
might prove of use to the enemy.
"The ship was first set on fire in the forward storeroom, but three
shots came through below her water-line and put out the flames. She was
then set afire in four places aft, and when the flames were well under
way, so as to make her destruction certain, Captain Smith and his first
lieutenant (George Dewey) left the ship, all the officers and crew
having been landed before.
"The _Mississippi_ was soon ablaze fore and aft, and as she was now
relieved of a great deal of weight--by the removal of her crew and the
destruction of her upper works--she floated off the bank and drifted
down the river, much to the danger of the Union vessels below. But she
passed without doing them any injury, and at 5:30 o'clock blew up and
went to the bottom."
When the time came for the crew to save themselves as best they could,
all sprang overboard and struck out for shore. A little way from the
blazing steamer a poor sailor was struggling hard to save himself, but
one arm was palsied from a wound, and he must have drowned but for
Dewey, who swam powerfully to him, helped him to a floating piece of
wreckage and towed him safely to land.
The lieutenant was now transferred to one of the gunboats of Admiral
Farragut's squadron and engaged in patrol duty between Cairo and
Vicksburg.
[Illustration: GUNBOATS PASSING BEFORE VICKSBURG.]
The latter surrendered to General Grant July 4, 1863, and the river was
opened from its source to the Gulf. Early in 1864 the lieutenant was
made executive officer of the gunboat _Agawam_, and when attached to the
North Atlantic squadron, took part in the attack on Fort Fisher, one of
the strongest of forts, which, standing at the entrance of Cape Fear
river, was so efficient a protection to Wilmington that the city became
the chief port in the Confederacy for blockade runners. Indeed, its
blockade was a nullity, despite the most determined efforts of the Union
fleet to keep it closed. The Confederate cruisers advertised their
regular days for departure, and they ran upon schedule time, even women
and children taking passage upon the swift steamers with scarcely a fear
that they would not be able to steam in and out of the river whenever
the navigators of the craft chose to do so.
The first attempt against Fort Fisher was in the latter part of
December, 1864, but, though the fleet was numerous and powerful, and the
greatest gallantry was displayed, the attack was unsuccessful. General
Butler, in command of the land troops, after a careful examination of
the Confederate works, pronounced capture impossible and refused to
sacrifice his men in a useless attack. Nevertheless the attempt was
renewed January 12, when General Alfred Terry had charge of the land
forces. The garrison made one of the bravest defences of the whole war,
and the hand-to-hand fight was of the most furious character. It lasted
for five hours, when the fort was obliged to surrender, the garrison of
2,300 men becoming prisoners of war. It was in this fearful struggle
that Ensign "Bob" Evans, who was with the naval force that charged up
the unprotected beach, was so frightfully wounded that it was believed
he could not live. When the surgeon made ready to amputate his shattered
leg, Bob, who had secured possession of a loaded revolver, swore he
would shoot any man who touched the limb with such purpose. Perforce he
was left alone, and in due time fully recovered, though lamed for life.
Lieutenant Dewey was one of the most active of the young officers in the
attack on Fort Fisher, and conducted himself with so much bravery and
skill, executing one of the most difficult and dangerous movements in
the heat of the conflict, that he was highly complimented by his
superior officers.
But peace soon came, and a generation was to pass before his name was
again associated with naval exploits. In March, 1865, he was promoted to
the rank of lieutenant-commander and assigned to duty on the
_Kearsarge_, the vessel that acquired undying glory for sinking the
_Alabama_, off Cherbourg, France, during the previous July. Early in
1867 he was ordered home from the European station and assigned to duty
at the Kittery Navy Yard, at Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
While at this station he became acquainted with Miss Susan B. Goodwin,
daughter of the "war Governor" of New Hampshire. She was an accomplished
young woman, to whom the naval officer was married, October 24, 1867.
Their all too brief wedded life was ideally happy, but she died December
28, 1872, a few days after the birth of a son, named George Goodwin, in
honor of his grandfather.
From 1873 to 1876 Dewey was engaged in making surveys on the Pacific
coast; he commanded the _Juniata_ on the Asiatic squadron in 1882-83,
and the following year was made captain and placed in charge of the
_Dolphin_, one of the original "white squadron." Next came service in
Washington as Chief of the Bureau of Equipment and Recruiting, as member
of the Lighthouse Board and president of the Board of Inspection and
Survey (he being made commodore February 28, 1896), until 1897, when he
was placed in command of the Asiatic squadron, much against his will.