April 8, 1863, The Charleston Mercury
A correspondent of the Jackson Appeal, writing from Port Hudson, La., under date of March 15, gives the annexed account of the Yankee attack on that place:
The long expected contest between the Yankee fleet took place before daylight this morning, the first shot being fired at ten minutes past twelve o’clock, and the last one at twenty minutes past two. It was short, sharp and decisive.
Six vessels were to complete the expedition, divided into two divisions. The vanguard was to consist of the flag ship Hartford, a first class steam sloop-of-war, carrying twenty-six 8 and 9 inch Paixhan guns, leading, followed by the Monongahela, as second class steam sloop, mounting sixteen heavy guns, and the Richmond, a first class steam sloop-of-war, of twenty-six guns, principally 8 and 9 inch Columbiads. The rear guard was composed of the first class steam sloop Mississippi, twenty-two guns, 8 and 9 inch, and the gunboats Kinnes and Genesee, each carrying three Columbiads and two rifled 32 pounders. The Mississippi was a side wheel steamer. All the others were screw propellers. The vanguard was commanded by Admiral Farragut in person, on board the Hartford. The rear guard was under the command of Captain Melancthon Smith, flying his pennant from the Mississippi. They were to proceed up stream in single file, the prow of one following close upon the stern of another, and keeping their fires and lights well concealed, until they should be discovered by our batteries, when they were to get by the best way they could, fighting their passage, and once above, they believed they would have the rebel stronghold on both sides – their guns covering every part of the encampment. Besides this, the Essex and mortar boats anchored at the Point, and supposed to have already acquired our range, were expected to play no mean part in the affair.
Shortly before midnight the boats, having formed the line of battle as described, their decks cleared for action, and the men at their quarters, the Hartford led the way, and the others promptly followed her direction. At the moment of their discovery a rocket was to be sent up from the Admiral flagship, as the signal for the Essex and her accompanying mortar boats to commence work. So dark was the night, and so slightly had the armed craft nosed their way up, that the flagship had passed some of our guns, and all the fleet were within easy range before their approach was known. Almost at the same time a rocket from our Signal Corps, and a discharge of musketry by an infantry picket, aroused our line. Quick as a flash, while the falling fire of our alarm rocket was yet unextinguished, there shot up into the sky, from the Hartford deck, another. Then came one grand, long, deafening roar that rent the atmosphere with its mighty thunder, shaking both land and water, and causing the high battery crowned cliffs to tremble. Every gun on the fleet and every mortar at the Point joined in one simultaneous discharge. Relying greatly upon the suddenness and vigor of their attack to disconcert and confuse the defenders of our cliffs, the roar of their first discharge had not died away upon the ear before it recommenced, and when the quick and irregular but unceasing volleys and broadsides showed that the crews of each Yankee ship were vieing with each other in celerity. The sheets of flame that poured from the sides of the sloops at each discharge lit up nearly the whole stretch of river, placing each craft in strong relief against the black sky. The noise was stunning to the ear, but they knew not yet the position of our batteries, and the shot and shell, fired at random, had no material effect.
Now commenced the battle in all its terrible earnestness. Outnumbered in guns and outweighed in metal, our volleys were as quickly repeated, and the majority of them unerring in their aim. As soon as the enemy thus discovered our batteries, they opened on them with grape and canister, which was more accurately thrown than their shells, and threw clouds of dirt upon the guns and gunners; the shell went over them in every conceivable direction except the right one. The Hartford, a very fast ship, now made straight for up the river, making her best time, and trying to divert the aim of our gunners by her incessant and deafening broadsides. She soon outstripped the balance of the fleet. Shot after shot struck her, riddling her through and through, but still she kept on her way. Every craft now looking out for itself, and bound to make its very best time to get by, the fleet lost its orderly line of battle, and got so mixed up it was difficult, and sometimes impossible, to distinguish one from another. It was speedily apparent to the enemy that the fire was a great deal hotter and more destructive than had been expected, and all the ships except the Hartford undertook to put about and return the way they came. For this purpose the Richmond sheered close in to the left bank, under the batteries, and then circled round, her course reaching nearly up to the opposite point. In executing this manoeuvre she gave our batteries successively a raking position, and they took excellent advantage of it, ripping her from stern to stem. From the crashing of timbers plainly heard during every brief interval of the din, and from the view had of shots that struck her, it was plain that her doom was sealed. It was reported among a crowd of observers on the bluff that a voice from her deck had called out: ‘We surrender! we surrender!’ If this was said, it was not probably spoken by her commander, who, however, appealed to our batteries to cease firing upon her, as the ship was sinking. As she was evidently drifting down in an unmanageable condition, and apparently settling, the batteries let her alone, and turned their attention to other craft. Whether or not she sank I do not as yet know.
The Mississippi undertook to execute the same manoeuvre of turning round and making her escape back to the point she started from. She had rounded and just turned down stream, when one of our shots tore off her rudder, and another went crashing through her machinery. Immediately after came the rushing sound of steam escaping from some broken pipe, and the now unmanageable vessel drifted aground directly opposite our crescent line of batteries. Her range was quickly gained, and she was being rapidly torn to pieces by our missiles, when the commander gave the order for all hands to save themselves the best way they could. At the same time fire broke out in two places. At this time her decks were strewn with dead and wounded, according to one of her crew, with whom I have conversed, who thought that one-half her complement of men were included in the list of casualties.
The three larger vessels had occupied most of the attention of the batteries, but the other craft had not by any means been overlooked. Two had turned round and started down stream. One of them apparently escaped without serious disability, but the other, which was probably the Kinnes, floated sown past the batteries in an unmanageable condition, receiving our volleys without being able to return them; and from the confusion of voices, and the mingling of oaths, execrations and orders heard from her deck, it was evident that great slaughter must have been made among her crew, else that the boat herself was in a critical predicament. A vessel, which was either the Tennessee or Monongahela – most probably the former – slipped by in the confusion, and joined the Hartford up the river. Some fifty-five or sixty persons saved themselves by jumping overboard and swimming or wading from the Mississippi to the shore. Of these, the major and Captain of Marines and Assistant Engineer, with forty five sailors and marines, have been arrested by our cavalry, and brought across during the day. Some few others are reported to be hiding themselves in the swamps. The dead and wounded were left upon the Mississippi, which soon floated off and started down with the current.
When the burning Mississippi reached the point where the mortar boats and other craft lay, she created a perfect panic among them. At five minutes past 5 o’clock, when the Mississippi was probably within five miles of Baton Rouge, a sudden glare lit up the whole sky. The cause was well known to be the explosion of the magazine. After a considerable interval of time, a long rumbling sound brought the final proof that the Mississippi, one of the finest vessels of the United States navy, which had earned an historic fame before the commencement of the present war as the flag ship of the Japan Expedition, was a thing of the past.
Such are the particulars of this morning’s fight at Port Hudson. For the time it lasted it was one of the most desperately contested engagements of the war. Our success is to be attributed to the coolness, gallantry and skill of the officers and men engaged. If the country is not satisfied with the Port Hudson fight, then it must, indeed, be unreasonable. Under all the circumstances, the result has been as surprising as it has been gratifying. The relative loss of life is one of the most significant features of the affair. The loss on board the enemy’s vessels must amount to at least 250 killed and wounded. On the Mississippi, alone, the loss was over 150. The loss in our batteries was one Lieutenant, of the 1st Alabama, slightly wounded, and one man, of the 1st Tennessee battalion, severely wounded.