through a trumpet from the “Hartford.” “Torpedoes!” was the answer. “Damn the torpedoes!” exclaimed Farragut. “Four bells! Capt. Drayton, go ahead! Jonett, full speed!” Thus the “Hartford” passed the “Brooklyn,” took her place at the head of the line, and led the fleet into the bay. Every vessel suffered from the enemy's fire as it approached the fort, poured in rapid broadsides that silenced the Confederate guns when it was abreast of the work, and suffered again from raking fire after it had passed. Inside of the bay, the signal “Chase enemy's gun-boats” was given, and the lashings that held the gun-boats to the sloops were cut with axes and the former made off for their prey, and one Confederate gun-boat was captured, one was sunk, and another driven under the guns of the fort. There was a brush with the iron-clad ram, but it was not serious, and the fleet came to anchor three miles up the bay. Farragut was planning to attack the ram as soon as it should be dark enough to prevent the garrison of the fort from seeing which was friend and which foe; but the ram anticipated him, steaming directly for the flag-ship in the midst of the fleet. The admiral at once gave orders for every ship to attack her, not only with shot but by ramming, and a desperate contest ensued. The ram had the advantage in that she was sure of striking an enemy with every blow, while the fleet had to avoid running and firing into one another. Their shot had no effect on the sloping iron sides of the monster, and when the wooden vessels rammed her they splintered their own bows and only heeled her over. But the monitors, with their enormous guns, shot away her smoke-stack and steering-apparatus and jammed her shutters, while one fifteen-inch shot actually penetrated her armor. Her commander was wounded, her crew could do nothing in the smoke that filled their vessel, and she displayed a white flag and surrendered. In the fight the “Lackawanna” had accidentally run into the flag-ship and cut her down nearly to the water's edge. The victory cost the National fleet 335 men, including 52 killed by shot and 113 drowned in the “Tecumseh.” The Confederate fleet lost 10 killed, 16 wounded, and 280 prisoners. The loss in the forts is unknown. A few days later they were surrendered. Farragut in his official report awarded the most generous praise to all that had assisted in winning the victory. He said: “The commanding officers of all the vessels that took part in the action deserve my warmest commendations, not only for the untiring zeal with which they had prepared their ships for the contest, but for their skill and daring in carrying out my order's during the engagement,” and he mentioned every one of them specially. He also wrote: “I witnessed the terrible effects of the enemy's shot, and the good conduct of the men at their guns; and although no doubt their hearts sickened, as mine did, when their shipmates were struck down beside them, yet there was not a moment's hesitation to lay their comrades aside and spring again to their deadly work.” The quarter-master that tied him in the rigging says he saw the admiral come on deck just as the killed of the “Hartford” were being laid out, and “it was the only time I ever saw the old gentleman cry, but tears came in his eyes like a little child.” Henry Howard Brownell was on board the flag-ship as an acting ensign, and described the battle in one of his finest poems, “The Bay Fight.” The city of Mobile could not be captured by the fleet as New Orleans had been, because of shoal water and obstructions in the channel. But the purpose of the operation, to stop the passage of blockade-runners and so close another main avenue of supply to the Confederacy, was accomplished. The accompanying view of the “Hartford” shows the ship as she appeared in Mobile bay after the battle. The stunted appearance of her masts is due to the fact that her top-gallants were housed. Her hull was painted lead-color.
In November, as Farragut's health was failing,
the department ordered him home, and on 12 Dec.
he reached New York, where he was given a public
reception, and a purse of $50,000 was presented to
him for the purchase of a home in the city. A
bill creating the grade of vice-admiral was passed
by congress on 22 Dec., and the next day President
Lincoln signed it, and nominated Farragut for the
office, which nomination the senate at once
confirmed. When Richmond fell into the hands of the
National forces, Farragut, who was on the James,
with Gen. George H. Gordon, procured horses,
and rode thither post haste, entering the city a
short time before the president got there. A few
days later he visited his old home, Norfolk, and
was given a public reception by the naval and
military officers there and those of the citizens who
had remained true to the Union. In the course of
his speech he said: “This meeting recalls to me
the most momentous events of my life, when I
listened in this place till the small hours of the
morning, and returned home with the feeling that
Virginia was safe and firm in her place in the
Union. Our Union members of the convention
were elected by an overwhelming majority, and we
believed that everything was right. Judge, then,
of our astonishment in finding, a few days later,
that the state had been voted out by a miserable
minority, for want of firmness and resolution on
the part of those whom we trusted to represent us
there, and that Virginia had been dragooned out
of the Union. . . . I was told by a brother officer
that the state had seceded, and that I must either
resign and turn traitor to the government which
had supported me from childhood, or I must leave
this place. Thank God, I was not long in making
my decision! I have spent, half of my life in
revolutionary countries, and I know the horrors of civil
war, and I told the people what I had seen and
what they would experience. They laughed at me,
and called me ‘granny’ and ‘croaker’; and I said,
‘I can not live here, and will seek some other
place where I can live.’ I suppose they said I left
my country for my country's good, and, thank
God. I did!”
On 6 July, 1865. the Union club of Boston gave a dinner to the admiral, at which Oliver Wendell Holmes read one of his happiest occasional poems, a few lines of which may be quoted here:
| “ | Fast, fast are lessening in the light |
