this fight, bore himself with firmness, exhibiting great decision and
calmness in the most arduous situation. The tumult on the left having
subsided, he sent a messenger back to General Grant to know if the left
wing of General Smith was secure; if so he was ready to advance. As the
day waned, an occasional shot was to be heard from the gunboats, but no
satisfactory account could be received of their operations. A lull
followed the storm. Both armies were preparing for the grand _coup de
main_, by which Fort Donelson was to be taken.
It was resolved to storm the fort. The honor of accomplishing this
difficult and perilous exploit on the left wing was given to General
Smith. When Colonel Lauman led his brigade in solid columns up the steep
sides of the hill, he drove the enemy from his entrenchments, pouring a
fearful volley into their disorganized and broken ranks. The national
ensign was immediately flung out from the earthworks, and greeted with
deafening cheers from ten thousand loyal voices.
The shades of night cast their canopy over the contending hosts, and
compelled the Federal commander to delay the completion of his victory
till morning. Soon after daylight, the Federal columns advanced in
battle array, prepared to storm the works at all points, when their eyes
were greeted with innumerable white flags, thrown out by the enemy at
every threatened position.
What followed may be told in few words. The enemy seeing that the
Unionists had gained one of his strongest positions, and successfully
repulsed him in his most daring attempts to raise the siege, took
advantage of the darkness, and called a council of war, in which it was
determined to surrender. With all possible haste some 7,000 troops were
dispatched up the river by night. The rebel Generals Floyd and Pillow
made their escape. The fort, with all its contents, fell into the
conquerors’ hands. More than 13,000 prisoners, Brigadier-General
Buckner, with twenty Colonels and other officers in proportion;
sixty-five cannon, forty-eight field and seventeen siege guns, a million
and a half dollars in stores, provisions, and equipage, twenty thousand
stand of arms—was glorious result, purchased at comparatively small
loss. The Federal loss in killed and wounded was 2,200; that of the
rebels 1,275.
[Illustration: UNION HEROES WADSWORTH. WEBER. SEDGWICK. LYON. M’COOK.
KENLEY. HUNTER. ELLSWORTH. FREMONT. CLAY.]
At the storming of Fort Donelson many acts of personal valor might be
recorded. An instance of reckless gallantry, and fortitude under a most
painful surgical operation, that of Hamilton, a son of Professor Leiber,
is worthy of record. This young man was twice wounded in the battle of
Fort Donelson. The first was a flesh wound, of which he made nothing.
Presently, however, he was struck by a Minie ball in the same arm; this
shattered his elbow, with the bones above and below, and he sank to the
ground, fainting with loss of blood. He was picked up towards night,
carried to a house, and thence, over a rough road, in an army wagon, to
the river bank, a distance of three miles, which necessarily caused the
greatest suffering. Arrived at the river bank, he was put on board a
boat and conveyed with other wounded to an hospital, where his arm was
amputated. When the operation was over, the brave young fellow’s first
words were, “How long will it be before I can rejoin my company?” At
that time young Leiber was a Lieutenant of the Ninth Illinois regiment.
He was appointed aid-de-camp by General Halleck soon after the battle of
Donelson as a reward for his great bravery.
THE OCCUPATION OF NASHVILLE.
FEBRUARY 25, 1862.
After the surrender of Fort Donelson, on the 16th of February, it became
evident to the Confederate leaders that the cities of Nashville and
Memphis, and other important positions must soon fall into the hands of
the victorious Federal army. Public meetings were held at both these
cities, in which it was recommended to defend them to the last
extremity, and if necessary to prevent their occupancy by the Union
troops, many of the more violent and reckless of the military determined
that they should be burned, and every description of property destroyed.
At Nashville, the Governor, Isham G. Harris, pledged himself to “shed
his blood, fight like a lion, and die like a martyr,” rather than submit
to the enemy; and at the same time efforts were made, but with little
success, to organize additional forces for defence.
During the progress of the siege at Fort Donelson, dispatches were sent
to Nashville, announcing a series of rebel successes, and on Saturday
night information was conveyed that the Federals had again been defeated
both on land and water, but they had been reinforced and might renew the
attack in the morning. With these hopeful and exulting assurances, the
city rested in peace, confident that the light of the morning would open
upon a glorious victory for the rebel arms.
Early on the morning of Sunday the first rumors of this heavy calamity
to the rebel cause had been conveyed to the leaders in Nashville. At
first, suppressed whispers and grave countenances indicated that
something important had transpired. But the people generally were
confident and hopeful as on the evening before, and anticipated that any
hour of the day would give the signal for a grand jubilee and rejoicing.
The time for public service in the churches drew near, and the people
repaired to their several places of worship. The churches were partly
filled and the streets crowded with the passing multitude, when a
startling rumor broke the peaceful stillness of the day. The Federals
were victorious! Fort Donelson had surrendered! Fifteen thousand
Confederate prisoners had laid down their arms to the invaders! Fear,
added to imagination, ran riot in the town.
It was said that the Federal troops had already reached Robertson, a
place about twenty-five miles from Nashville, connected by railroad, and
that the gunboats were at Clarksville, on the river, on their way to the
city. Governor Harris, taking advantage of his early information, had
hastily convened the members of the Legislature, then in session at
Nashville, which had met, and adjourned to convene at Memphis. These
circumstances becoming known, gave plausibility to the exciting rumors
of the celerity of the Federal movements, and the people were panic
stricken.
Before nightfall hundreds of citizens, singly and in families, were
making their way South, many of them having no idea why they were thus
recklessly abandoning comfortable homes, or where they were going.
Toward night it was announced that the military authorities would throw
open the public stores to all who would carry the property away.
This excitement continued throughout Sunday night, constantly gaining
strength, aided by the destruction of two gunboats which were in process
of construction—two fine New Orleans packets, the James Woods and James
Johnson, having been taken for that purpose. The army of General
Johnston commenced its retreat, encamping by regiments at convenient
points outside of the city. On Monday morning, great excitement
prevailed; the public stores were distributed to some extent among the
people, while the army and hospitals were making heavy requisitions, and
pressing all the vehicles and men that could be obtained to carry
supplies to their camp. At the same time, considerable quantities of
stores were removed to the depots for transportation south. Evening
came, and no gunboats—no Federal army from Kentucky. General Johnston
left for the South, placing General Floyd in command, assisted by
Generals Pillow and Hardee. The apprehensions of the near approach of
the enemy having been found groundless, it was determined by General
Floyd that the distribution of the stores was premature. An order was
sent to close the warehouses, and a force detailed to collect what had
been given out. This was done, so far as practicable—but on Tuesday the
distribution commenced again, and continued with slight restrictions,
under the eyes of the most judicious citizens, until Saturday morning.
Tuesday night the iron and railroad bridges across the Cumberland were
destroyed, in spite of the most earnest and persistent remonstrances of
leading citizens. The iron-bridge cost about one hundred and fifty
thousand dollars, and the railroad bridge two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars. It was one of the finest drawbridges in the country.
The scenes which were enacted during the following days, up to Monday
morning the 24th, were still more exciting. The untiring energy of the
Mayor and city authorities, who throughout this whole affair acted with
prudence and zeal, was inadequate to keep the excited people under
control.
On Sunday morning, twenty-five Federal pickets breakfasted in Edgefield,
opposite the city, and during the morning eight of them seized a little
stern-wheeled steamer that had been used as a ferry, and refused to
permit it to continue its trips. Mayor Cheatham immediately crossed in a
skiff, but found no officer with whom he could negotiate. In the
evening, Colonel Emmet, of the Fourth Ohio Cavalry arrived, and sent a
message to the Mayor, requesting his presence. The interview was
satisfactory on both sides, though the formal surrender of the city was
deferred until the arrival of General Mitchell, who was expected on
Sunday night or Monday morning.
On Monday morning the city became comparatively quiet. In the evening
Generals Buell and Mitchell arrived in Edgefield, and understanding that
the authorities had appointed a committee, consisting of the Mayor and
several of the leading citizens, he sent a message requesting an
interview. The hour of the interview was fixed at eleven o’clock, A. M.
on Tuesday. In the mean time General Nelson arrived in the city about
eight o’clock, A. M., in command of a fleet, consisting of one gunboat,
the Cairo, and eight transports. Transports continued to arrive during
the day, and at night the number reached eighteen or twenty. A large
portion of this army disembarked during the morning, and occupied the
public square, encamping in the vicinity at night. At eleven o’clock,
the committee of citizens were conveyed by order of General Buell to
Edgefield, on the steamer Hillman. They were met at the landing by
Generals Nelson and Mitchell, and escorted to General Buell’s
headquarters. The interview was an amicable one, General Buell giving
assurance that the personal liberty and property of all citizens would
be fully protected, and no State institutions of any kind interfered
with.
The first business of General Buell, after having thus established a
cordial understanding with the officers of the city, was to inaugurate
his military authority by the appointment of a Provost-Marshal, to
preserve order, and regulate the intercourse of the Union troops with
the citizens. Colonel Stanley Matthews, a highly respected and
well-known gentleman, conservative in politics, was selected for this
responsible position, an appointment which was greeted with satisfaction
by the citizens. The post-office was continued in the hands of Colonel
J. H. Markland, a native Kentuckian, and a gentleman of high character
and social standing.
General Buell immediately restored the mail facilities, which had so
long been denied the people by the rebellion, and adopted every measure
to ensure and restore confidence among the citizens. Many of them had
fled their homes during the panic, the stores and places of business
were closed, and the whole community were perfectly paralyzed during the
week that had intervened between the fall of Fort Donelson and the
occupation of the city. Eight days of terror afforded them a fearful
illustration of lawlessness and violence: and when the Federal troops
took possession, their sobriety, decorum and uprightness, amazed the
people with the contrast. The loss of many of their relatives, the deep
hostility that had been engendered in their breasts, and the doubts as
to the ultimate restoration of the Federal authority, made the
development of loyal sentiments a work of time and patience. The retreat
of the national forces from Nashville, and the withdrawal of the
protection of the Government, would be the death-warrant of any person
committing himself too openly for the Union cause; and many citizens
allowed these contending motives to restrain their welcome to the flag
under which they had so long enjoyed peace, prosperity and repose.
The government at Washington took an early opportunity to appoint a
military governor for the State of Tennessee, in the person of Hon.
ANDREW JOHNSON, a man who had long represented its people as Governor
and United States Senator.
Some of the ladies of Nashville were peculiarly ardent in their dislike
of the Union occupation, and took especial pains to avoid or sneer at
the glorious old flag which was directly hoisted in the most prominent
parts of the town.
Over the large gate at the Provost-Marshal’s splendid
headquarters—Elliott’s female school—a Union flag was hoisted. A very
ardent secesh lady, who wished to see Colonel Matthews, was about to
pass through the gate, when looking up she beheld the proud flag
streaming on the breeze. Starting back horror-struck, she held up her
hands and exclaimed to the guard:
“Dear! I can’t go under that dreadful Lincoln flag. Is there no other
way for me to enter?”
“Yes, madam,” promptly replied the soldier, and turning to his comrade,
he said:
“Here, orderly, bring out that rebel flag and lay it on the ground at
the little gate, and let this lady walk over it!”
The lady looked bewildered, and after hesitating a moment, concluded to
bow her head to the flag which had so long protected her, and passed
under it with submissive grace.
FORT CLINCH AND FERNANDINA, FLA.
On the 28th of February, 1862, Commodore S. F. Dupont, commanding the
South Atlantic Blockading Squadron, set sail from Port Royal, S. C., the
headquarters of General Sherman, for the purpose of taking military
possession of the forts and towns on the coasts of Georgia and Florida.
Brigadier-General Wright accompanied him, as commander of the land
forces. The squadron consisted of twenty vessels of war, seven
transports, and a few schooners and smaller vessels.
The first point of attack was to be Fernandina, Fla., an important
seaport near the entrance of St. Mary’s river, the boundary between
Georgia and Florida. The main channel is between Cumberland and Amelia
islands, with fourteen feet of water on the bar.
Fort Clinch, a regular bastioned work of brick, with heavy casemates,
and guns mounted _en barbette_, commanded the entrance. This place had
been strongly fortified by the rebels and mounted with guns of the
heaviest calibre. Commodore Dupont anticipated a stubborn resistance,
but the garrison, on learning the approach of the formidable expedition,
deemed their position indefensible, and evacuated the fort, leaving
twelve of their heaviest guns behind.
The town of Fernandina was also occupied by the Federal forces without
any resistance. Many of the inhabitants had fled, and those remaining
were terrified on the approach of the vessels, having been assured by
the rebels that the national forces would subject them to unrestrained
pillage and abuse. The kind and conciliatory government instituted by
General Wright soon restored confidence, and the people returned to
their homes and occupations.
THE MERRIMAC AND THE MONITOR.
MARCH 9, 1862.
The most remarkable naval battle which has ever taken place in the
history of the world was the encounter between the two iron-clad steam
batteries, Merrimac and Monitor, in Hampton Roads, Va.
The Merrimac was one of five war-steamers authorized to be constructed
by an act of Congress, passed at the session of 1844–5, and was built at
Charlestown, Mass. The spar deck was 281 feet long, and 52 broad, in her
original condition. The vessel was completed and launched in 1856. She
was soon put in commission, and continued in the service until April,
1861, when she was lying at Norfolk Navy Yard for repairs.
When the Government property at the Navy Yard and in the neighborhood of
Norfolk was destroyed or rendered unserviceable, to secure it from
seizure by the Confederates, the Merrimac was scuttled.
Not long after the rebels had taken possession of the Navy Yard the
Merrimac was raised, and placed in the floating-dock. Here she was
remodeled, and covered by a sloping roof of iron plates, four inches
thick, which bore her down so heavily, that it became almost impossible
to launch her. When launched she drew four feet of water over the
calculated draught, and was again placed upon the dry-dock, and
underwent material changes in her construction. Her bow and stern were
steel-clad, and the bow furnished with a projecting ram for the purpose
of piercing an antagonist. The armament consisted of four eleven-inch
navy guns, broadside, and two one hundred-pounder rifled guns, at the
bow and at the stern.
The Monitor was built by contract, under the act of Congress of July,
1861, appropriating $1,500,000 for iron-clad vessels. Captain Ericsson
presented proposals for a battery to be launched within one hundred
working days from the date of the contract. The contract was awarded to
him in October, and on the one hundred and first working day the Monitor
was launched from the Continental Iron Works at Greenpoint, New York.
The Monitor is low, wide, and flat-bottomed, with vertical sides, and
pointed ends, requiring but shallow water to float in. The sides of the
vessel are formed of plate iron, half an inch thick, outside of which is
attached solid white oak twenty-six inches thick: outside this again is
rolled iron armor five inches thick. The inclination of the lower hull
is such that a ball to strike it in any part must pass through at least
twenty-five feet of water, and then strike an inclined iron surface at
an angle of about ten degrees. In the event of an enemy boarding the
battery they can do no harm, as the only entrance is at the top of the
turret or citadel, which cannot easily be scaled, and even then only one
man at a time can descend into the hull.
[Illustration:
BIRDS-EYE VIEW OF HAMPTON ROADS, VA., MARCH 8, 1862.
1. Hampton Roads.—2. Fortress Monroe.—3. Rip Raps.—4. Newport News
Point.—5. James River.—6. Sewall’s Point.—7. Pigs Point.—8. Craney
Island.—9. Elizabeth River.—10. Norfolk.—11. Portsmouth.—12.
Gosport.—13. Suffolk.—14. Nansemond River.—15. Merrimac.—16.
Monitor.—17. Cumberland.—18. Congress.—19. Minnesota.—20.
Yorktown.—21. Jamestown.—22. St. Lawrence.—23. Roanoke.
]
The principal novelty of this vessel is the cylindrical revolving
turret, rising from its exact centre, in which the guns are placed. This
is formed of rolled one-inch iron plates bolted together to the
thickness of eight inches; its internal diameter is twenty feet, and it
is nine feet high. It rests at its lower edge on a smooth, flat ring of
composition metal, but when in action the principal portion of its
weight is sustained by a central shaft, about which it revolves; a
massive wedge being driven below the steps of the shaft on such occasion
to raise it, and thus cause it to bear up the turret. A large spur wheel
upon the shaft is connected by a train of gearing with a small
steam-engine, which supplies the power for turning the turret.
Two eleven-inch guns are placed within the turret, in position precisely
parallel with each other, on smooth ways, or slides; a clamp being
arranged upon the sides of the ways for adjusting the friction and
taking up the recoil in such distance as may be desired.
The turret is pierced in different places with four holes for the
insertion of telescopes, and just outside of the holes reflectors are
fixed to bend the rays of light which come in a direction parallel with
the guns through the axis of the telescope, which is crossed by a
vertical thread of spider’s web through the line of collimation. The
sailing-master takes his position in the turret, with his eye to the
telescope, and his hand upon the wheel that governs the motion of the
small engine, and turns the turret so as to keep the guns always
directed with absolute precision to the object against which the fire is
directed. A scale is also arranged for adjusting the elevation of the
guns with similar engineering precision.
Upon the sides of the turret that have the port-holes through which the
guns are discharged, the massiveness is increased by an additional
plating three inches in thickness; making the sides of the turret
presented to the enemy eleven inches.
In preparing for action, the awning over the turret is removed, and the
square smoke stacks as well as the shorter pipes, through which air is
drawn into the vessel, are taken down. A small, square tower at the bow
is the wheelhouse, in which the steersman stands. It is made of bars or
beams of iron nine by twelve inches, interlocked at the corners.
After a preliminary trial trip, the Monitor sailed from the Brooklyn
Navy Yard for Fortress Monroe, on the 6th of March, and at five o’clock
on the afternoon of that day, discharged her pilot off Sandy Hook. Her
officers at this time were as follows:
Lieutenant-commanding John S. Worden; Lieutenant and Executive Officer,
S. D. Green; Acting Masters, I. N. Stoddard, J. W. Webber; Acting
Assistant-Paymaster, Wm. E. Keeler; Acting Assistant-Surgeon, D. C.
Logue; Government Inspector, Alban C. Stimers; First Assistant-Engineer,
Isaac Newton; Second Assistant-Engineer, Albert S. Campbell; Third
Assistant-Engineers, R. W. Sands, M. T. Sunstron; Acting Masters’-Mate,
George Frederickson.
The voyage to Fortress Monroe was safely terminated by the arrival of
the vessel with her consort about eight o’clock on the evening of the
eighth. Important events had transpired in Hampton Roads on that day.
The Merrimac had steamed down towards the sloop-of-war Cumberland,
blockading James river, and demanded a surrender. This was refused, when
the monster turned ponderously, and bringing her bow to bear on the
Cumberland, dashed into her side, rending the timbers as she went. She
then drew her iron prow from the shattered vessel, scattering a storm of
splintered wood on the water, and receding to a safe distance, poured a
broadside in from her guns. The crippled Cumberland, still vibrating in
all her timbers, returned the broadside. This was answered and returned
without intermission for fifteen minutes. During this time shot and
shell boomed over the water, crashed into the doomed vessel, and fell
like mighty hail on the iron coat of the Merrimac. But while every shot
told on the quivering woodwork of the Cumberland, the Merrimac threw off
the iron missiles as a rock beats back the tempest, sending in her
volleys more triumphantly each moment. The brave old man-of-war stood up
to the slaughter much as a blinded horse, forced among the wild bulls of
a Spanish arena falls, gored to the heart, but fighting desperately.
Half full of water, which still came pouring in through her wounded
side, recoiling like a living thing from each outburst of shot and
shell, she at last settled slowly to the waters’ edge, and sunk, pouring
out a defiant broadside as she went down, with the stars and stripes
floating at her mast-head.