The Story of American History for Elementary Schools

CHAPTER XXV.
OUR NAVY IN THE WAR FOR THE UNION

326. Our Navy at the Beginning of the War.– For a number of months before the breaking out of the war the Southern leaders of the secession movement had been quietly but skillfully preparing for it.

A large part of the soldiers had been sent off to the frontier posts. Rifles, cannon, and all such supplies had been taken months before from Northern stations and sent South. Our navy had been purposely scattered all over the world. More ships were abroad or useless than were at home fit for service. The whole number available after the attack on Fort Sumter was only thirteen.

All through the South most of the southern-born officers of the government who were in control of Federal property, as custom houses, post offices, arsenals, forts, navy yards, and ships, abandoned their trust, or turned all these properties over to the seceding states.

It was in reference to such a piece of transfer that the Secretary of the Treasury, John A. Dix, sent to New Orleans that famous telegram which thrilled the whole North: —

"If any one attempts to haul down the American flag, shoot him on the spot!"

Great was the peril. More vessels must be had, and that at once. The seventeen warships in foreign ports were called home, scores of steamers were bought and dozens were built as quickly as possible.

327. Urgent Need of Vessels to blockade Southern Ports.– One of the most urgent needs for a navy was to blockade the Southern ports. This was to be done by stationing well-armed ships near the mouth of every harbor to seize any vessel trying to get out with a cargo of cotton, or to capture any ship coming in with supplies. "Running" this blockade was a profitable but dangerous business.

But we can judge whether our gallant navy did its duty in watching the eighteen hundred miles of Southern coast line, if we remember that during the four years of the war the Union blue-jackets captured or destroyed over fifteen hundred blockade runners – more than one a day.

328. Naval Operations on the Western Rivers.– The Confederates had fortified many cities and important bluffs along the Mississippi River and its branches, and had built many heavy gunboats. Our government had at first not a single gunboat to meet them. Something must be done very soon. In less than a hundred days there were built at St. Louis, from the keel up, with powerful engines, heavy armor plate, and cannon, eight powerful gunboats, all ready for action. These ironclads, with some mortar boats, did effective service at the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson, of Columbus, Memphis, and Vicksburg, and all along the rivers.

329. How New Orleans was protected against an Attack by the Union Forces.– While the Union ironclads were fighting farther north along the Mississippi and other large rivers, Commodore Farragut was doing valiant work below New Orleans. This city was protected by two strong forts.

Just below the forts there stretched from each bank towards the middle a big boom of logs. The space in the middle of the river between the ends of the booms was filled with hulks of old ships, first firmly anchored, then heavily chained to each other, and lashed to the booms with huge cables, making almost a bridge. Above this formidable barrier was a fleet of iron rams and gunboats.

Besides all this, there were a number of fire rafts, loaded with cotton and hay, ready to be set in a blaze and float down on any Union craft that would dare to come up. How was it possible for the Union vessels to force their way up the river in the face of these obstructions?

330. Farragut prepares for the Attack.– Farragut had about fifty vessels all told: frigates, ships, sloops, gunboats, and mortar vessels. He anchored the mortar boats around a point of land nearly two miles below the forts, and dressed them with evergreens and foliage of trees disguising their position. Then the great thirteen-inch bombs burst inside and around the forts all day, all night, for six days.

Meanwhile two small gunboats went one night up to the chained hulks to break the barrier; and though detected and fired on, the officers worked calmly and persistently. They contrived to get a gunboat through, then steamed up the river, turned and rushed down on the cable with such force as to break it! Daylight showed a wide opening for the Union fleet.

331. The Grand Work done by Farragut and his Fleet.– The next morning at two o'clock, April 24, 1862, the fleet steamed up. The forts fired and the ships fired, but the fleet kept moving in the darkness. Soon one passed through, then another, the swift ones dashing ahead.

But the flagship Hartford, on which was Farragut, having passed through, turned aside to avoid a blazing fire raft, when she ran aground! Then the Confederates, seeing the Hartford stuck fast, pushed a fire raft up against it. Instantly the flames flashed along the rigging and the ports, the big guns of the fort meanwhile pounding her. But the gun crews kept working their cannon as steadily as if on practice, and the rest fought the flames, and soon subdued them. The flagship was saved. Other ships passed up, all fighting, some surviving by hairbreadth escapes; a few were lost.

When the morning sun rose, the astounding work had been done, the gates of fire had been passed, and the Union fleet under Farragut was triumphant. New Orleans was captured and the control of the river secured nearly up to Vicksburg.

332. The Merrimac and the Monitor.– When the war for the Union began, and just before the Confederates seized the navy yard at Norfolk, the commanding officer there contrived to burn or sink all the ships; but the best one, the Merrimac, was soon raised and rebuilt as a powerful ironclad.

When the fine old frigate had been remodeled her entire appearance was changed. She had no longer the appearance of a ship, but seemed like a house afloat. The story is told that an old sailor on board the Cumberland, who first sighted her, reported gravely to the officer of the deck, "Quaker meeting-house floating down the bay, sir."

In anticipation of what harm it might do, the government engaged Captain Ericsson, a Swedish inventor in New York, to build as quickly as possible, after his own plans, an ironclad, a new and very odd-shaped kind of warship – the now famous Monitor. The construction was pushed day and night without an hour of delay.

333. Attack of the Merrimac on the Union Fleet.– Before long the dreaded Merrimac was finished, and on March 8, 1862, the ponderous black monster steamed slowly out to attack the Union ships in Hampton Roads. She made straight for the fine frigate Cumberland, the solid shot of whose broadside fell like pebbles into the sea from the slopes of the huge ironclad. On, on came the ponderous monster, and crashing into the wooden side of the Cumberland, opened a hole "wide as a church door." The sinking ship went down with her flag flying and her guns booming to the last!

Next the Merrimac attacked the Congress, whose captain and three-fourths of her crew were killed or wounded. Hot shot were used, which soon set the Congress in a blaze. Then the ironclad, as if she had done enough for one day, went grimly back to Norfolk, intending to continue her destruction the next day.

Everywhere in that region is alarm. The shores are thronged with anxious thousands. The city of Washington is almost in a panic. The grim monster may steam up here on the next day, and hurl its exploding shells into the Capitol or the White House. Philadelphia, Baltimore, and all the seacoast cities of the country are exposed to destruction. What is to be done? Can the danger be averted?

334. Timely Arrival of the Monitor.– That very night, as if by a special providence, the Monitor arrived from New York! Early next morning, when the naval Goliath of yesterday came out in his iron armor, victorious and confident, a young David stood up to defy him!

A strange craft indeed was the Monitor. Her rail was but little above the water, and nothing was to be seen on her deck but a kind of round iron box in the middle, a pilot house forward, and a small smokestack aft. At a mile's distance she might be taken for a raft. Indeed, the Confederates well described her when they called her a "Yankee cheese-box on a raft."

335. Famous Battle between the Monitor and the Merrimac.– It was a Sunday morning, and the sun rose in a cloudless sky. The batteries on both sides of the bay were crowded with men waiting for the coming contest. At the first sign of life on board the Merrimac, the Monitor began her preparations for the battle.

Slowly the Confederate ram came down the bay. She opened fire on the Minnesota, which was still aground. The frigate responded with a mighty broadside, but the cannon balls rattled off the iron flanks of the huge ram like so many peas. Clearly everything depended upon the little Monitor.

The battle now began, and the huge shells and heavy shot crashed like loudest thunder. It was a strange, an awful battle. At times the two vessels were in actual contact. The dense smoke, the deafening roar of explosions, the shouts of officers' orders, the crews often hurled off their feet by the terrific blows smiting the iron armor – all made it beyond description fearfully sublime. The Merrimac's plates were split and torn. One shot, entering her port, did terrible havoc.

Just as Lieutenant Worden of the Monitor was looking through the slit in the turret to take aim, a shell struck outside and filled his face and eyes with powder and iron splinters! He was insensible for some time.

When he came to himself, his first question was, "Have I saved the Minnesota?"

"Yes," was the reply, "and whipped the Merrimac."

"Then I don't care what becomes of me," he answered.

After more than three hours of this frightful combat, the humbled Merrimac steamed back to Norfolk, the victorious little Monitor giving a series of farewell shots as she sailed away.

Thus ended this marvelous battle, the first in the world's history between ironclad vessels. All Washington retired to sleep that night with a sense of relief, for it seemed as if the nation had been saved.

The brave Worden shortly after the famous battle went to Washington. President Lincoln was at a cabinet meeting when he heard of the lieutenant's arrival. He rose hastily and said, "Gentlemen, I must go to that fellow."

When Lincoln entered his room, Worden was lying on a sofa with his eyes and head heavily bandaged.

"Mr. President," said he, "you do me great honor by this visit."

"Sir," said Mr. Lincoln, with tears in his eyes, "I am the one who is honored by this interview."

336. Confederate Privateers attack Union Merchantmen.– When the North began blockading the Southern ports, the South of course used all its energies to break the blockade by aiding ships to pass in or out, and also to destroy our commerce wherever it might be found.

The first craft that went out on this errand of destruction was an ocean steamer then at New Orleans. It had been speedily altered into a warship and named the Sumter. She slipped through the blockade in June, 1861, and did a lively business capturing and burning our merchantmen.

Then the South, as it had no navy of its own, had to seek aid abroad. England seemed to be very willing that her shipbuilders should furnish ships for the use of the Confederacy in seizing and destroying Union vessels.

The first of the cruisers secretly built in a British shipyard to destroy our commerce was the Florida. She burned or sank over forty vessels before she was captured.

337. The Famous Alabama makes Sad Havoc.– The Alabama was the most famous of the Confederate cruisers. She was built under false pretenses and with a false name, in an English port, of English material, armed with English cannon, and manned by English sailors.

The Alabama, once fairly at sea under Captain Semmes, skillfully avoided our men-of-war sent to capture her, and continued in her two years' cruise till she had burned or captured sixty-seven of our merchant ships.

338. The Alabama destroyed by the Kearsarge.– At last the Alabama went into the harbor of Cherbourg, in France. Captain Winslow of the United States warship Kearsarge, then searching for her, heard of this and at once challenged her, and then waited outside. On the nineteenth day of June, 1864, the Alabama was compelled by law to leave the port. The battle began, and was watched by thousands from the shores.

The Kearsarge swept around in great circles, compelling the Alabama, about half a mile distant, to do the same. The men on the Alabama fired fast and wild. Their shots flew over, or fell short; but the Kearsarge fired carefully and with true aim. Nearer drew the Kearsarge, circling still. Its two eleven-inch guns made frightful havoc, tearing great rents in the Alabama's sides. She was sinking, and started for the shore. Winslow now steamed in front and headed her off. Then down came the Confederate flag.

Soon the far-famed and dreaded cruiser sank to her watery grave. The names Winslow and Kearsarge long rang through this country with plaudits of enthusiastic praise.

"I would rather have fought that fight," said brave old Admiral Farragut, "than any ever fought on the ocean."

339. England pays for the Damage done by the Alabama.– After the war England refused for years to make compensation for the damage the Alabama had done to our commerce. But seeing that the same course might some day injure herself, and sensible of the injustice, she at last consented to make amends. In 1872 a Board of Arbitrators met at Geneva, and agreeably to its decision "John Bull" promptly paid $15,500,000 to "Uncle Sam" to distribute among those who had suffered by the depredations.

340. Preparations for the Capture of Mobile.– In the summer of 1864 a prominent Southern port, Mobile, was yet uncaptured. Its defenses were strong. Two splendid forts stood sentry at the gateway. Long lines of piles narrowed the channel to about three hundred feet, and a triple row of torpedoes threatened any approach. In the harbor the Confederates had a small fleet of gunboats and one tremendous ram, the Tennessee.

Admiral Farragut determined to capture Mobile. He had four monitors and fourteen wooden ships. All the preparations were made with the utmost care. The officers and men of the fleet regarded the admiral with staunch loyalty and absolute trust. The attack was made early on the morning of August 5.

341. Farragut's Crowning Victory at Mobile.– The fleet passing through the channel, rained shot and shell so furiously upon the forts that the Confederates could not well serve their guns. But our finest ironclad, the Tecumseh, was struck by a torpedo, and she sank with over a hundred of her brave men!

Her captain, the gallant Craven, was at the time in the pilot-house with the pilot. As the huge ironclad lurched heavily over and began to sink, both rushed to the narrow door, but there was only room for one to pass at a time. Craven stepped to one side, saying, "After you, pilot." The pilot leaped to a place of safety, but the noble captain went to the bottom in his iron coffin.

The fleet now fought a desperate battle with the Confederate ironclads. The armored vessels were soon sunk or scattered. The Tennessee tried to ram our ships, but with little success. Then our ironclads gathered around our "wooden walls," steamed straight for the ram, and there was fought one of the most desperate naval fights of the war.

Sharpshooters fired into the ram's ports, our ships successively poured in a terrific fire, and hammered at close range with huge solid shot and fifteen-inch bolts of iron, till the white flag went up, and once more the stars and stripes waved triumphantly over the harbor of Mobile.

Thus ended the battle of Mobile Bay, – one of the most brilliant naval contests of modern times, – Farragut's crowning victory. Three hours elapsed from the time the first gun was fired until the great ram hauled down the Confederate flag.

The port of Mobile was thenceforward closed against blockade runners, and the last channel of communication between the Confederacy and the outside world was cut off.

342. Farragut in the Rigging during the Battle.– During the battle Farragut stood in the main rigging; but as the smoke increased he gradually climbed higher, until he was close by the maintop. The shots were flying thick and fast. There was great danger that he would lose his footing, and so the captain sent aloft one of the men with a rope who lashed him to the rigging so that he might not fall if wounded.

When Farragut saw the danger from the approaching Tennessee, as he stood tied to the rigging, he said to his signal officer, who was lashed to the other mast: —

"Can you signal, 'For Heaven's sake'?"

"I can signal anything," replied Kinney.

"Well, signal to all the fleet, 'For Heaven's sake, go for the ram!'"

The fact that the admiral was fastened to the main rigging during the greatest sea fight perhaps in our history gave him a unique reputation throughout the country. Farragut was amused and amazed at the notoriety of the incident.

When a picture of the scene in one of the illustrated papers came to hand a few days after the battle, the admiral said to one of his captains in conversation, "How curiously some trifling incident catches the popular fancy! My being in the main rigging was a mere incident, owing to the fact that I was driven aloft by the smoke. The lashing was the result of your own fears for my safety."

343. Cushing plans to destroy the Ironclad Albemarle.– One of the large sounds, or inland gulfs, on the coast of North Carolina was the scene of a great deal of blockade running during the war. The place needed constant watching by our ships.

But the chief cause of anxiety was a monster ironclad, the Albemarle, that the Confederates had built up the Roanoke River. She had sunk or disabled several Union gunboats. She had gone up the river to refit. The entrance to the sound was so shallow that none of our large warships could pass in.

Could anything be done to check the Albemarle? Lieutenant Cushing, only twenty-one, but a most daring naval officer, said, "Yes, there could!" His plan was to steal carefully up by night, seize the huge ironclad and bring it away, if possible, or else blow it up. The river was guarded on both banks, and the ram itself was watched by special sentries. No matter for that; he would go. He obtained a noiseless steam launch, and rigged a torpedo on the end of a long spar, turning on a hinge at its side. The crew of the launch consisted of fifteen men, with Cushing in command.

344. Cushing's Plan Successful; Destruction of the Albemarle.– One dark rainy night Cushing steamed in his little torpedo boat up the river. They passed all the river guards undiscovered. A camp-fire on the bank near the ironclad showed to him, as he stood in the bow of his boat, the dark outlines of the monster. He steamed on softly. Just then a dog barked! Then guards sprang up and fired. The big bell on the ram clanged its alarm, lights flashed on the water and shots hissed all around the launch.

The brave young officer saw that the ram was surrounded by a large raft of huge logs. Instantly his resolution was formed. He steamed off some distance to get a long run, then turned and rushed for the Albemarle. Shot whistled around him. On came his little craft, bumped upon the logs, crashed over them, and pushed up under the huge ram. Cushing now lowered his torpedo spar, calmly guided it into its place, pulled the fatal cord – crash! a roar of thunder! – and all was over. The great ironclad was a terror no longer.

345. Cushing reaches the Fleet in Safety.– Each man had to save himself as best he might. Cushing leaped into the water. After about an hour's swimming he reached the shore and fell exhausted upon the bank. He crept into a swamp for some distance, tearing his feet and hands with briers and oyster shells.

Next day he met an old negro whom he thought he could trust. The negro was frightened at Cushing's wild appearance and tremblingly asked who he was.

"I am a Yankee," replied Cushing, "and I am one of the men who blew up the Albemarle."

"My golly, massa!" said the negro; "dey kill you if dey catch you; you dead gone, sure!"

Cushing gave the negro all the money he had to go into the town and learn the news.

After a time the negro came back, and, to Cushing's joy, reported the Albemarle sunk. At last the intrepid officer found a boat and paddled for eight hours until he reached the Union squadron. After hailing one of the vessels, he fell into the bottom of the boat, utterly exhausted by hunger, cold, fatigue, and excitement.

Lieutenant Cushing, to whose intrepidity and skill the country was indebted for this and many other bold exploits, was engaged in thirty-five naval combats during the war. What a record for a young man of twenty-three! He died at thirty-two, the youngest officer of his rank in the United States Navy. One of our finest torpedo boats, which did good service during the Spanish-American war, is well named "The Cushing."