CHAPTER XXV.
THE BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY.
In order to appreciate the importance of the tremendous action in MobileBay, it is necessary to consider that Mobile and Wilmington were theonly available ports of the rebels east of the Mississippi. Theresources of the Confederacy were exhausted by three years of wastingwar, and it was dependent upon foreign supplies for the means ofcontinuing the strife. The earnest attention of the government atWashington, therefore, was directed to the shutting up of these ports.
To form a correct idea of the obstacles to the closing of Mobile Bay,which had been intrusted to Admiral Farragut, it should be rememberedthat its entrance was guarded by two strongly-built and heavily-armedforts; that the only available channel for large vessels, but threefourths of a mile in width, ran under the guns of Fort Morgan, thestronger of the two forts; that this channel was filled with sunkentorpedoes, which, experience had demonstrated, were fatal to any vesselssubjected to the explosion; and that the rebels had a fleet of gunboatsand iron-clads, which could operate with every advantage against anadvancing fleet.
"Brave Old Salt" had estimated all these obstacles, and believing that"success was a duty," he had resolved to overcome them. All theexpedients which the ingenuity of a thorough seaman could devise wereadopted to strengthen and protect the ships. The plan of the battle wasentirely original, and displayed the genius of its author. The admiralmodestly declares that he only obeyed the orders of the navy department,and disclaims the credit so lavishly awarded to him by his admiringfellow-citizens; but the government did not tell him how to do it--andin that consisted the doing of it--did not order him to "lash ships" andtake his elevated position in the main rigging; did not bid him "butt"the rebel rams with his wooden prows; and for all these things does thewhole world sound his praise.
At half past five in the morning the Chatauqua, with the Androscogginlashed to her port side, took her position in the line of battle. TheBrooklyn was to lead the van, with the "Old Hartford," the flag-ship,next in the line, though the doughty old admiral had but tardily accededto the request of his officers in taking this place. The position of theChatauqua was in the centre of the line of battle.
At the signal from the admiral, the fleet moved on. Every officer wasfull of zeal and enthusiasm, though it was certain that some of themwould never behold the light of another day; that more or less of thegallant vessels must soon be overwhelmed by the hidden engines ofdestruction which had been planted in the channel. Somers regarded it asthe great day of his existence. He had read his Testament and said hisprayers that morning as though it were the last day he had to live, forthe most fearful and deadly strife of the whole war was anticipated. Aman is never so fully prepared to live well and do his duty faithfullyas when he is ready to die.
While the young officer thought even more tenderly than usual of theloved ones in his far-off home, and of that other loved one who wasnever forgotten when home was remembered, he felt that his country wastheirs, and that every blow struck for the nation was struck for them.To die for his country was to die for them--for his own home; and heasked no higher duty than to sacrifice his life, if such was the will ofGod. "Thy will be done," he repeated many times, though life was full ofhopes and joys to him.
The fleet moved on, and the roar of the great guns in the monitors soonannounced that the action had commenced. The chase guns of the Chatauquaopened first, and the ship trembled beneath the concussion.
"The Tecumseh has gone down," passed from mouth to mouth, as atremendous explosion saluted the ears of the seamen.
The monitor had struck upon a torpedo, and in a moment had disappearedbeneath the tide, carrying down with her nearly all her gallant crew.But this incident, appalling as it was even to the battle-scarredveterans on the decks of the fleet, was hardly heeded in the terribledetermination of purpose which animated every heart. The Brooklyn pausedto dodge some supposed torpedo buoys, and "Brave Old Salt" dashed aheadin the Hartford to his proper place in the van of the battle.
The ships in pairs came up abreast of the fort; and according to theorders of the admiral, the broadside and other guns opened upon theworks, not with solid shot, in futile attempts to batter down theirdense walls, but with grape, which drove the gunners of the fort fromtheir stations.
Never were guns fired more rapidly; and the roar was tremendous, shakingall earth beneath, and enveloping the scene in dense volumes of smoke,above which, as it occasionally rolled away, might be seen the admiral,lashed to the main rigging of the Hartford. A glimpse at him neverfailed to call forth the most unbounded enthusiasm, among officers andseamen.
With comparatively little injury the fleet passed the fort, and standingto the north-west to clear the Middle Ground, was out of the reach ofits guns. Terrible stories of the torpedoes had been told by desertersand refugees, but the admiral's hopes had been realized; they had beenso long in the water that they had become "innocuous."
But a new and greater danger menaced the fleet. The rebel iron-cladTennessee started out from under the guns of Fort Morgan. She was aformidable adversary; and though the monitors were depended upon to"neutralize" or destroy her, they moved so slowly and steered so badly,that the brunt of the battle was borne by the wooden ships.
"Run her down," was the order from the admiral, which the signal officerinterpreted on the quarter deck of the Chatauqua.
The Battle of Mobile Bay.]
Captain Cascabel instantly ordered full head of steam to be put on, andthe ship, gathering headway, dashed down upon the Tennessee, strikingher at right angles, near the after part of the casemate. The shock ofthe concussion was terrible. The men were thrown from their feet, andthe ship groaned in bitterness of spirit at the hard usage to which shewas subjected. Her stem was crushed in to the plank ends, and the waterbegan to pour into the forward store-rooms. Expecting such an event, thecarpenter and his gang were at the threatened point, and prevented anydisaster from the collision.
The effect upon the iron-clad was hardly perceptible, giving her aheavy list, but apparently inflicting no damage upon her. The Chatauquaswung round as she struck. Captain Cascabel, who had leaped into themizzen rigging, gave his orders, which were promptly executed by Mr.Hackleford. Solid shot and shell were poured into the ram with a furywhich would have been fatal to a less strongly built craft. As it was,one of her port shutters was struck and shattered, the rest of the shotbounding off like peas from an oak floor.
"Hah, you bloody villains of Yankees!" shouted the rebels, at theirports.
"How are you, Johnny Reb?" replied a fore-top man, as he hurled aspittoon in at the port.
Another old salt dashed in a holy-stone, and then the marines openedfire upon them with their muskets.
"Ram her again!" shouted the admiral from the main rigging of theHartford, as the flag-ship dashed at the game.
The Chatauqua swept round, and succeeded in striking the Tennesseeagain, but with no better result than before. At the same time shepoured in shot and shell from every available gun.
At this moment one of the ships struck the Hartford, by accident, in thedense smoke, and knocked two of her ports into one. It was believed thatthe flag-ship would go down, for her planking was stove in within twofeet of the water-line.
"Save the admiral! save the admiral!" shouted the men; and there wasnot one of them who would not have died by fire or water to rescue theirbeloved leader.
Somers sprang upon the rail, to observe the catastrophe, and to be inreadiness to save the admiral if an opportunity occurred. While he stoodthere, a shot hit the rail diagonally, a splinter struck him in theside, and he dropped helpless into the water.
"Mr. Somers is wounded and fallen overboard!" shouted the captain of thepivot gun amidships.
The words were hardly out of his mouth, before another man dropped intothe water from one of the ports. It was Tom Longstone. He found hisyoung friend, and bearing him up with his strong arm, both were rescuedfrom their perilous position.
"She show
s the white flag! She surrenders!" was the cry, as theboatswain and Somers reached the deck.
The young officer was borne to the ward-room at the moment of victory,while the cheers of the brave tars were ringing through the fleet.
The Tennessee and the Selma had surrendered, the Gaines had been drivenashore, and the Morgan was for the present safe under the guns of thefort. The victory was complete and decisive.
Somers was severely, if not dangerously, injured. He was borne tenderlyto his state-room by his brother officers, as the cheers for the greatvictory were sounding through the fleet. There had been seven men killedand thirty-five wounded on board the Chatauqua. The surgeon was in thecockpit, busily engaged in attending to the wounds of the poor fellows,and could not immediately examine the young officer, who, it wasevident, required no surgical operation.
The ship, though considerably cut up by the shots from the fort and fromthe rebel steamers, was still in condition for active service. The fleetanchored in the bay, out of the reach of the guns of Fort Morgan.Officers were busy in making the necessary surveys, and the men wereoccupied in repairing damages and restoring order about the decks andrigging.
"How do you feel, Mr. Somers?" asked Mr. Hackleford, entering thesufferer's room, as soon as he could leave the deck.
"I do not suffer much pain, sir; but I am afraid I am badly damaged inthe hull," replied Somers, with a languid smile.
He was very pale, and lay very still. He was numb from the effects ofthe shock given him by the splinter, and some of the functions of hisframe seemed to be suspended. The first lieutenant was alarmed, and senta second messenger for the surgeon, who presently made his appearance,having disposed of the severest cases in the cockpit.
"What do you think of him, doctor?" asked Mr. Hackleford.
"I fear he is badly injured," replied Dr. De Plesion, shaking his head.
"Dangerously?" whispered the first lieutenant.
The surgeon shook his head.
"Speak out, doctor," said the patient, faintly. "I am not afraid to diefor my country. Please tell me the truth."
"I cannot tell yet, Mr. Somers. Three of the ribs are fractured, but ifhe is not injured internally, he will do very well," added the surgeon,to Mr. Hackleford.
"I have but little pain," said the patient.
"You will have more, Mr. Somers, by night," continued Dr. De Plesion. "Ido not discover any internal injury."
"I hope there is none," said the first lieutenant. "You are too good anofficer to be spared, Mr. Somers,--I mean for even a brief period, ofcourse."
The report of the surgeon was anxiously awaited by the captain and allthe ward-room officers, for the third lieutenant had been a universalfavorite, and his capture of the Ben Lomond, and his gallant conductduring the action with the forts and the Tennessee, had not diminishedhis popularity. Of all who waited the doctor's decision, none took thematter so much to heart as the boatswain, who had saved him fromdrowning while he was helpless in the water. Mr. Hackleford noticed himat his duty, still wet to the skin, and kindly gave him permission tovisit his young friend.
"I shall not go by the board, Tom," said Somers. "You and I may yet makeanother cruise together."
"Thank God! I hope so," exclaimed the boatswain, encouraged by thesecheerful words.
"Tom, I owe my life to you."
"O, never mind that, my darling! What would I have done if you hadslipped your wind?"
"You would have done your duty, as you always do, my good fellow."
"I dare say I should, Mr. Somers, but I can only thank God that you arealive now," replied the boatswain, as the tears flowed down his bronzedcheek, and he turned to leave the room.