Capt. Harlock
Posts: 5358
Joined: 9/15/2001 From: Los Angeles Status: offline
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150 Years Ago Today: There were political snags over what to do about the Shenandoah Valley. Parts of it fell into four different Union military districts, and the hapless Northern generals in the field kept receiving different orders. Even the narrow escape of Washington from Jubal Early's raid, plus his being able to evade the Yankee pursuit, had not resolved the squabbling. U. S. Grant was resolved to make the Valley area a unified command, and he knew just who he wanted as commander: Philip Sheridan, who had done much to turn his cavalry into a truly offensive instrument. But Congress and the War Department were unhappy; Sheridan was only 33 years old at this point. The burning of Chambersburg focused minds. Lincoln gave Grant his approval, even telling the General-in-Chief that he would have to give the matter his personal effort. On this date, Grant and Sheridan met near Monocacy, Maryland, and Grant gave Sheridan the orders that had originally been meant for David Hunter: HEADQUARTERS IN THE FIELD, Monocacy Bridge, Md., Aug. 5, 1864. GENERAL: Concentrate all your available force without delay in the vicinity of Harper's Ferry, leaving only such railroad guards and garrisons for public property as may be necessary. Use in this concentration the railroad, if by so doing time can be saved. From Harper's Ferry, if it is found that the enemy has moved north of the Potomac in large force, push north, following and attacking him wherever found; following him, if driven south of the Potomac, as long as it is safe to do so. If it is ascertained that the enemy has but a small force north of the Potomac, then push south the main force, detaching, under a competent commander, a sufficient force to look after the raiders and drive them to their homes. In detaching such a force, the brigade of cavalry now en route from Washington via Rockville may be taken into account. There are now on the way to join you three other brigades of the best of cavalry, numbering at least five thousand men and horses. These will be instructed, in the absence of further orders, to join you by the south side of the Potomac. One brigade will probably start to-morrow. In pushing up the Shenandoah Valley, as it is expected you will have to go first or last, it is desirable that nothing should be left to invite the enemy to return. Take all provisions, forage, and stock wanted for the use of your command. Such as cannot be consumed, destroy. It is not desirable that the buildings should be destroyed —they should, rather, be protected; but the people should be informed that so long as an army can subsist among them recurrences of these raids must be expected, and we are determined to stop them at all hazards. Bear in mind, the object is to drive the enemy south; and to do this you want to keep him always in sight. Be guided in your course by the course he takes. Make your own arrangements for supplies of all kinds, giving regular vouchers for such as may be taken from loyal citizens in the country through which you march. Very respectfully, U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General. The farms of the Shenandoah Valley had provided for Lee's army and for the guerrillas in the valley itself. Now it was to become a scene of devastation. Outside Mobile Bay, the day dawned clear, and the Union ground troops had dug in on Dauphin Island. Admiral Farragut had four of his gunboats placed to shell one of the Confederate forts, and ordered the rest of his force into position. The ironclad monitors took the lead, and the wooden warships were tied together in pairs, so that if the engines of one were knocked out, the other could still bring them both into the bay. At 5:30 a.m. the signal to sail past the Southern forts was raised. For almost half an hour, as the fleet went closer and closer to the entrance of the bay, there was only an occasional shot fired. Then the forts opened up with everything that would bear, the Yankees fired back with equal determination, and the little Confederate flotilla joined in. Soon there was so much firing and smoke that Farragut had to go aloft into Hartford's rigging to see what was going on. It was not a happy sight. The monitors and the lead wooden ship, Brooklyn, were sailing erratically as they tried to engage the forts and the Rebel gunboats. Finally the lead monitor, Tecumseh, went too far to the west and struck a "torpedo", which detonated. Water poured through the resulting hole, and it was immediately clear that the Union ironclad had been mortally wounded. Captain Tunis Craven and his helmsman rushed to the ladder leading to the deck. "After you, pilot," said the Captain. The courtesy was the difference between life and death, for the helmsman had just gone through the hatchway when the Tecumseh turned on its side and went under, carrying Craven and 93 other officers and crew to the bottom. Seeing this, the lead wooden ship Brooklyn hesitated, and thus held up the remainder of the Northern fleet. An impatient Farragut shouted, "What is the trouble?" "Torpedoes! Torpedoes!" came the reply from the Brooklyn. If flagship Hartford stayed on course to clear the Brooklyn, she would sail through the minefield. But Farragut instantly chose to take the risk, gambling that most of the torpedoes were now inactive from long immersion in salt water. He roared something like, "Damn the torpedoes! Four bells, Captain Drayton, go ahead. Jouett, full speed." This was later shortened to the immortal line, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" Hartford, with Metacomet at her side and the remainder of the fleet following, plunged into the minefield. Some men reported they heard the snap of the primers as the sips brushed by the submerged torpedoes, but Farragut had calculated correctly. There were no further explosions. Once past the minefield and the forts, the Union ships cast loose from each other and proceeded to make short work of the Rebel gunboats supporting the Tennessee. CSS Selma had her deck crew cut down by shell and grapeshot, and surrendered. CSS Gaines was quickly holed and her crew ran her aground to prevent her sinking, then evacuated and burned her. CSS Morgan turned around and fled, probably without firing a shot, eventually making her way to the docks of Mobile. That left the mighty ironclad Tennessee. Admiral Franklin Buchanan apparently decided that he could defeat the entire Union flotilla with Tennessee alone. He gave the orders, and the Confederate ironclad moved out. Farragut, who had been watching Buchanan's ship intently, noticed at once. For a short time his officers believed the 63-year-old Admiral's eyesight was playing tricks. Surely the Rebels would not be so rash. But quickly the word spead from the other lookouts, "The ram is coming!" Initially, the Northerners tried to do the ramming. First Monongahela and then Lackawanna hit, but the Tennessee was too sturdily built, and the Union vessels only took damage themselves. With Tecumseh sunk, the only guns on the Federal side that had a chance of penetrating Tennessee's armor were the pair on the Manhattan. And one, but only one, of them did: The Monongahela was hardly clear of us when a hideous-looking monster came creeping up on our port side, whose slowly revolving turret revealed the cavernous depths of a mammoth gun. "Stand clear of the port side," I cried. A moment after a thunderous report shook us all, while a blast of dense, sulphurous smoke covered our port-holes and four hundred and forty pounds of iron, impelled by sixty pounds of powder, admitted daylight through our side, where before it struck us there had been over two feet of solid wood, covered with five inches of solid iron. This was the only fifteen-inch shot that struck us fair. It did not come through; the inside netting caught the splinters, and there were no casualties from it. I was glad, however, to find myself alive after that shot. --Lieutenant A. D. Wharton, C.S.N. But then the Manhattan's propulsion and steering turned troublesome. Unable to manuver with the rest, she dropped out of the fight. The monitor Winnebago also developed problems, and could not fire effectively. Then it was the turn of Hartford. For a few moments the two flagships bid fair for a head-on collision at full steam, which would likely have been fatal for both. But this would have left the remainder of the Union fleet in control of Mobile Bay. So, at almost the last second, Tennessee swerved, and the ships scraped each other, ending up broadside to broadside. They were so close that the Hartford's Captain Drayton spotted Buchanan through an open port and threw his binoculars at the Southern admiral. (As a high-ranking officer, Drayton carried a sword but no gun.) The binoculars did no damage, but neither did Hartford's cannon. At this point, Franklin Buchanan's rash move seemed to be paying off: Tennessee was taking little real damage, but inflicting a good amount on the Union vessels. More, in attempting to ram the Confederate ironclad again, Lackawanna accidentally rammed the Hartford. There was only one effective Northern ironclad left, the Chickasaw. Farragut had not expected much from her captain Perkins, who had gone into battle with his officer's jacket off and wearing a straw hat against the August heat. But Perkins now placed his vessel in the ideal spot, less than 50 yards (46 m) off the stern and fired his guns "like a pair of pocket pistols". The 11-inch projectiles still could not penetrate Tennessee's armor, but they could do serious damage. By a poor design choice, the chains controlling the the Confederate ship's rudder were outside the armor, running in grooves to the stern. These were shot away, leaving the vessel without the ability to change course. The smokestack was shot nearly in two, and toppled sideways, slowing the ship. The concussion of the solid shot striking the armor gave the crew nosebleeds. The shutters over the gunports jammed one by one, and when the crew attempted to clear the one bearing on the Yankee ship, they received a horrifying lesson in the transmission of shock. One man had braced himself against the inside of the armored casemate, and when a shot struck the outside, his body was instantly pulverized. At around this time Admiral Buchanan himself was wounded, sustaining a compound fracture of his leg. (He had also been shot in the leg during the fight with the Monitor in 1862.) He ordered the captain to fight until there was no more hope. Going to the pilot house, the captain observed that three of the Yankee steamships, including Hartford, had untangled themselves and were on ramming courses. No longer having the ability to dodge, he personally lowered his ensign and hoisted the white flag. The casualties were even heavier than when Farragut had attacked New Orleans: The Northerners lost 151 killed and 177 wounded, while the Southerners lost 13 killed, 22 wounded, and 1,587 captured, including Admiral Buchanan. The result was equally decisive: Mobile Bay passed into the control of the Union Navy. Now for the forts.
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< Message edited by Capt. Harlock -- 8/5/2014 4:30:52 AM >
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