Farragut on the Mississippi: Coast Survey and Harriet Lane
Six war-steamers, sixteen gunboats, twenty-one mortar-vessels, with five other national vessels, among them the Harriet Lane, Porter's flag-ship, making in all nearly fifty armed vessels, constituted the entire force. It was a formidable fleet, but it had formidable obstacles to overcome.
On the 18th the bombardment commenced, and the first day nearly two thousand shells were thrown into the forts. Some burst beyond them, others in mid-air, and some not at all, while hundreds fell with a thundering crash inside the works, cracking the strongest casemates in their ponderous descent. On one side of the river the mortarvessels lay near some trees on the bank, and the men dressed the masts in green foliage to conceal their position. Decked out as for a Christmas festival, they could not be distinguished at the distance of the forts from the trees, so that the enemy had only the smoke that canopied them for a mark to aim at. On the other side, tall reeds fringed the banks, and the vessels in position there were covered with rushes and flags and daubed with Mississippi mud, which sadly confused the artillerists in the forts. The exact distance from the spot where they lay anchored, to the forts, had been determined by triangulation, conducted by the Coast Survey party under Captain Gurdes. The surveys to accomplish this had been performed under the fire of the enemy, and great coolness and daring were shown by the party. The sailors had wondered at the presence of a Coast Survey vessel, carrying a crew armed with nothing more formidable than surveying-instruments, save a few pocket revolvers, but it was now seen that science must first prepare the way before the heavy shells could perform their appropriate work.
Early in the morning of the day on which the bombardment commenced, the rebels set adrift a huge flat-boat piled with pitch-pine cord-wood in a blaze. As it came down the stream, the flames roared and crackled like a burning forest, while huge columns of black smoke rose in swift, spiral columns skyward. As it drifted near, two of our advanced vessels hastily slipped their cables and moved down stream. At first it was feared the blazing structure might contain torpedoes or explosive machines of some kind, and rifled shot were thrown into it. But it floated harmless by, lighting up the muddy stream as it receded. In order to be prepared for another, Captain Porter ordered all the row-boats of the flotilla to be prepared with grapnels, ropes, buckets, and axes. At sunset this fleet of a hundred and fifty boats was reviewed, passing in single line under the Harriet Lane, each answering to the hail of the commander, "Fire-buckets, axes, and ropes?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
About an hour afterwards, just as night had set in, a huge column of black smoke was seen to rise from the river in the vicinity of the forts. Signal-lights were immediately hoisted on all the vessels, and the next moment a hundred boats shot out in the darkness, ready for action. A fire-raft was on its fearful way, lighting up the broad bosom of the Mississippi with its pyramid of flame, and sending the sparks in showers into the surrounding darkness. It made a fearful sight, and seemed well calculated to accomplish its mission of destruction. On it came, slowly and majestically, swinging easily to the mighty current, when suddenly the Westfield opened her steamvalves and dashed fearlessly into the burning pile. Burying herself amid the crashing timbers and flying sparks, her captain turned a hose upon it, and a stream of water as from a fire-engine played upon the lurid mass. The next moment the crowd of boats approached -- the bronzed faces of the sailors, with buckets and ropes, standing out in bold relief in the broad glare -- and fastened to the horrid phantom. Then, pulling with a will, they slowly towed it ashore, where they left it to consume ignobly away. It was bravely done, and as the boats returned they were cheered by the entire fleet.
For a whole week the bombardment was kept up, while shot and shell from the enemy fell in a constant shower amid the squadron.
The gunners on the mortar-boats were getting worn out, and, when released from the guns, would drop down exhausted on deck. They began at last to grumble at the inactivity of the larger vessels.