In
early April 1863, a large number or Northern war correspondents were
assigned to their fleet to cover the story of the glorious victory of
the navy and capture of the seat of rebellion, Charleston. It was not
to be; the day following his defeat Admiral Samuel F. DuPont wrote “that
a merciful Providence permitted me to have a failure, instead of a
disaster.”
Bernhard Thuersam, Chairman
North Carolina War Between the States Sesquicentennial Commission
"Unsurpassed Valor, Courage and Devotion to Liberty"
"The Official Website of the North Carolina WBTS Sesquicentennial"
Patriots Defeat the Invincible Iron Armada
“On
both sides of the harbor mouth the Confederate shore batteries were
firing at long range: Fort Moultrie and Batteries Bee and Beauregard on
the northern shore and Battery Gregg at Cummings Point on Morris
Island. [The] crisis of the battle had come; the entire force of the
ironclad fleet except the flagship was concentrated on Fort Sumter.
More
than a hundred of the heaviest cannon ever used in the war were
thundering together. The thick walls of and arches of Sumter trembled
under the impact of the great fifteen-inch and eleven-inch shells; when
at the moment of impact the shells burst, deep craters were blasted into
the brick walls of the fort.
Most
of the [enemy] ships were hidden or half-hidden in smoke. [The Passaic
had] retired . . . Her pilot-house had been wrecked and a cloud of steam
was issuing from her deck. The Weehauken, too, seemed to be in trouble,
her funnel . . . was riddled; her side armor was cracked and split.
The Nahant and the double-turreted Keokuk were sustaining the hottest
fire of Sumter. All round them the water seethed with the rain of
projectiles.
[The
Nahant’s turret was] impenetrable, but the heavy blows jammed it so
that it could not revolve and her guns were rendered useless. Her
steering gear apparently had also been disabled, for she was drifting
helplessly . . . The Keokuk turned bow-on and headed straight for
Sumter. Immediately she received the concentric fire of all the fort’s
guns that could be brought to bear. Firing from her forward turret . . .
she was hit repeatedly. Her eleven-inch bow-gun had been silenced; a
solid shot crashed into her forward turret; a bolt from a Brooke rifle
ripped open her hull ten feet from her stem and barely above the
waterline. Her headway slackened, then ceased; she drifted toward the
fort under a hail of fire.
The
guns of Sumter, served with almost perfect precision, were hammering
her to death. Her sloping turrets were cracked and dented; her armored
hull was torn and ripped, her funnel riddled. With ninety wounds in her
– all the high courage of her officers and crew made fruitless by the
cool skill of Sumter’s gunner’s – the Keokuk, mortally-stricken, moved
slowly out of the fight.
The
smoke cloud over Fort Sumter [was now] less dense [and clearly visible
was] the Confederate flag at the top of its tall staff. Through a thin
white veil of drifting smoke it shone like a flame. There was a great
hole through its red union with the stars of the Confederate States, but
the blue flag of South Carolina at the western angle of the gorge was
unscarred.
The
half-circle of [enemy] ironclads in front of the fort was shifting,
breaking up. The battered Nahant, her steering gear repaired, was
steaming slowly out of range. The other monitors, still firing
sullenly, were retiring [with orders] to withdraw.
[A
shirtless, powder-blackened up-countryman sang] in a high cracked
voice: “King Abraham is very sick, Dupont has got the measles, Old
Sumter we have got it still, Pop goes the weasel.” Another man joined
him, two more – half the battery. They were singing madly, waving their
caps. But now it was Dixie.
[The]
order was to continue to firing as rapidly as accuracy permitted. Until
they passed beyond extreme range, the retreating ironclads were pursued
by the persistent Confederate shells.
[Dupont]
got his flag-ship under way and followed his broken and beaten fleet.
He was wondering perhaps . . . how Washington would receive the news
that he had to give. Defeat instead of victory that had seemed so sure.
The invincible iron armada flung back from the gate of the hated city.
The vaunted Keokuk sinking, four other ships disabled. The “Rebel”
flag still flying over Sumter . . . “
(Look
Back to Glory, Herbert Ravenel Sass, Bobbs-Merrill, 1961; A
Tricentennial Anthology of South Carolina Literature, 1670-1970, Calhoun
& Guilds, editors, USC Press, 1971, excerpts, pp. 465-470)
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