By J.
T. Headley
Comprising the early life and
public services of the prominent naval commanders who, with Grant and Sherman
and their generals, brought to a triumphant close the great rebellion of
1861-1865. (First edition 1867)
(Return to table of contents of this book)
CHAPTER
XIV
COMMODORE
JOHN A. WINSLOW
HIS
BIRTH—ANCESTRY—ENTERS THE NAVAL SERVICE—SENT TO THE WEST INDIES—CRUISES
IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN—SUBSEQUENT SERVICES—PROMOTION—SERVES IN THE WAR WITH
MEXICO—FIGHT IN TOBASCO—GIVEN A CHOICE OF VESSELS FOR HIS GALLANTRY—SEMMES
BECOMES HIS ROOMMATE—STRANGE CONTRASTS—IN HAYTI AND YUCATAN—A CRUISE IN
THE PACIFIC—BREAKING OUT OF THE REBELLION—WINSLOW SENT WEST TO CO-OPERATE
WITH FOOTE—EQUIPS HIS FLOTILLA—IS WOUNDED IN TRYING TO GET THE BENTON AFLOAT
AFTER GROUNDING—SENT UP THE WHITE RIVER—DETERS OFFICERS FROM DEMANDING OF
THE GOVERNMENT HIS APPOINTMENT TO THE COMMAND OF THE MISSISSIPPI
FLOTILLA—ORDERED EAST TO TAKE COMMAND OF THE KEARSARGE—HIS CRUISE IN SEARCH OF THE ALABAMA—BOLD
NAVIGATION—BLOCKADES THE FLORIDA—HIS VESSEL RUN ASHORE BY REBEL
PILOTS—FINDS THE ALABAMA AT CHERBOURG—IS CHALLENGED BY SEMMES—BEFORE THE
COMBAT—THE COMBAT—A BRAVE SEAMAN—THE VICTORY—YACHT GREYHOUND—ENGLISH
PERFIDY—SEMMES’ FALSEHOODS REFUTED—THE ENGLISH PRES—THE TWO VESSELS
COMPARE—LETTER OF THE. SECRETARY OF THE NAVY—UNJUST CENSURE—FEELING OF THE
PEOPLE—WINSLOW’ S VINDICATION—HIS CHARACTER.
Often a man devoted to a
single calling or profession passes through life without being known but little
outside of the particular sphere in which he moved. The most untiring industry,
faithfulness to duty, and signal ability, can, at the utmost, only slowly lift
him in mere nominal rank or position. It is only rarely that circumstances so
combine as to allow him in one single effort to show to the world what he has
been preparing for, or what he is capable of doing. This is more especially true
of those whose studies and training look to outward physical results.
Winslow is an illustration of
the truth of this statement. Although, for nearly thirty years in the naval
service-an accomplished officer—a thorough commander, and a man of great
mental ability, yet, but for the fortunate event that brought him in contact
with the Alabama, his real worth would
not have been known outside of the naval profession.
John A. Winslow is a
southerner by birth, having been born in Wilmington, North Carolina, November
19th, 1811. On the mother’s side, whose name was Sarah E. Anerim, he came from
the celebrated Rhett family of Charleston, but, on the father’s, from the best
Massachusetts stock, being the seventh generation from John Winslow, brother of
Edward Winslow, Governor of Massachusetts Bay, and consecrator of Plymouth Rock.
Edward Winslow, the common ancestor of the family which bore such an important
part in the early history of the Plymouth colony, was from Droutwitch, England,
ten miles from which the family seat is still found. Edward, his son, and
afterwards Governor of Massachusetts Bay, joined the pilgrims at Leyden. He had
been just married, but his young wife, true to the convictions of duty as
himself, left a luxurious home and her native land, to encounter the perils and
hardships of a wilderness, whose solitudes were broken only by the cries of wild
beasts, and the still more fearful war-whoop of the savage.
Four brothers joined him in
Plymouth colony, one of whom was the ancestor of the present renowned commodore.
The father of John Winslow was sent from, Boston, in 1807, to establish the
commercial house of J. Winslow & Co., which was located at Wilmington. This
was the way the subject of the present sketch came to be born on southern soil.
When fourteen years of age,
he, with his elder brother, was sent North to be educated, and placed under
charge of Rev. Mr. Sewall, of Dedham, to prepare for college. The elder brother
subsequently entered college; but John’s taste inclining to the navy, he,
after two years of study, entered the service. He was now only sixteen years
old, but was immediately ordered on active duty to the West Indies in the Falmouth.
He remained here for nearly three years, being frequently sent on boat
expeditions from Cuba against pirates. The excitement and adventure of this kind
of life exactly suited him, and showed that he had chosen the right profession.
In 1829 he brought Poinsett home from Mexico. The next year he returned, and the
year following was ordered, in the same ship, to the Pacific Ocean, where for
some two years or more he was engaged in the ordinary duties of a cruise. He
returned in 1833, and was examined and promoted to passed midshipman.
For a year and a half he was
now employed on naval stations. From 1835 to 1837 he served on the coast of
Brazil in the Ontario and Erie.
In 1839 he was promoted to lieutenant, and again sent to the coast of Brazil in
the brig Enterprise. Returning from
this station, he was, in 1842, ordered to the steam-frigate Missouri, Captain Newton commanding, which, after being employed for
some time on the coasts of Cuba and Mexico, was sent to convey Mr. Cushing,
minister to China, with dispatches from President Tyler.
This unfortunate vessel, it is
well known, caught fire in the harbor of Gibraltar, and was burned up. Winslow
was sent back by Cushing with dispatches to the Government, announcing the
catastrophe. He was ordered by the Navy Department to return and assist in the
removing of the debris, etc. The wreck was finally destroyed by being blown up
with gunpowder.
He was afterwards employed on
shore stations, till December, 1845, when he was ordered on board the Cumberland,
which soon after sailed, as Commodore Connor’s flagship, for Mexico. The
Mexican War breaking out, he was sent, after the battle of Palo Alto, in a boat
expedition up the Rio Grande, to prevent the Mexican army from crossing the
river, but which failed to accomplish its object, as the retreating force
effected a passage higher up.
Some time after, he was one of
a boat expedition sent on shore, fourteen miles from Vera Cruz, to get water for
the fleet. The boats were attacked, when the vessels in the distance opened a
heavy fire, which drove the assailants back, so that water was obtained.
Soon after, he was drafted
with two divisions of the flotilla for Tobasco. Caught in a tremendous gale of
wind, the expedition lay for three days at the mouth of the river, unable to
enter it. On the 3d, Frontera, three miles up the stream, was captured with two
steamers and some other vessels. The next day, Tobasco was reached, and some
fourteen vessels captured. Winslow landed with his division, and, advancing to
the plaza, was met with a shower of musket-balls. A sharp contest followed,
without material advantage to either side. At night he was ordered to retire,
and take down the river one of the captured vessels. The next day, the Mexicans
opened from every battery and fort of the city, and a general bombardment
followed, which resulted in the fleet dropping back to Frontera.
Winslow’s bearing was so
fine, and his gallantry so conspicuous on this occasion, that Perry publicly
complimented him, and as a token of his high appreciation of his conduct, gave
him the choice of vessels. He selected the Morris,
and sailed to join the fleet at Vera Cruz.
He was next drafted with a
division, to sail for Tampico and capture it. The city, seeing the boats
advancing, capitulated. Here he remained for six weeks, guarding the arsenal,
until the arrival of troops from New Orleans. He then returned to the fleet at
Vera Cruz, and there found Raphael Semmes—whose
vessel, the Somers, had been capsized
in a squall, and all but thirty of the crew lost—occupying his room. The two
afterwards shared it together, until other arrangements could be made. Under
what widely different circumstances the same men are sometimes brought together!
Today, a young officer, having lost his vessel and crew, without any assigned
place, occupies the room of his brother officer and friend, until his return.
Fighting under the same flag, they have a common feeling and sympathy. Winslow
especially feels for the unfortunate lieutenant, whose vessel, with all her
armament, is sleeping at the bottom of the Gulf.
Twenty years pass by, and
those two officers meet off the coast of France as deadly enemies, sailing under
different flags. A fierce conflict follows, and when it is over Semmes is again
swimming for his life, not towards the flag of his country, to find shelter in
his friend’s room, but away from it, and from that former friend, to seek
protection under a foreign flag. The two meetings stand in strange and striking
contrast to each other.
In February, 1847, Winslow was
drafted into the Mississippi,
Commodore Perry commanding, and not long after returned home. All hands being
detached from the vessel, as she was ordered to be altered for a flagship, he
was sent to Boston on ordnance duty. In March, the following year, he sailed as
first lieutenant in the Saratoga for
Mexico. The vessel stopping at Haiti, where the revolution was then in progress,
he landed at night in a boat to bring off the refugees, which he succeeded in
doing, marching unmolested through the town, though dark visages crowded around
his little band. These being sent to Jamaica, he sailed for Yucatan, where he
was actively engaged in supplying the inhabitants with arms, etc., to enable
them to repel an invasion of the. Mosquito Indians. Having completed this task,
he went to Tampico, Vera Cruz, and other ports, to gather up and send home what
belonged to the United States, and which had been left there at the close of the
war.
Returning in the summer of
1849, he had a rest; of two years, and was then ordered to the frigate St.
Lawrence, and sailed on a cruise in the Pacific. Visiting the various ports
of South America, the islands of the Pacific, San Francisco, &c., he was
absent three years and five months, engaged in active duty all the while.
Returning in the spring of 1855, he was ordered on recruiting duty to Boston. In
the following September, he was promoted to commander. From that time till the
breaking out of the rebellion, he performed various duties along the coast,
acting, in the mean time, as light-house inspector. With that patriotism and
devotion to duty which have always distinguished him, the moment he heard that
the flag he loved so well had been fired upon, he hastened to Washington, and
applied for active service. He was ordered to join Foote at St. Louis, where the
latter was fitting out a flotilla. To extemporize, equip, and man a fleet on the
Mississippi, in the short time required, was no ordinary task, yet the whole
work was put on him, and a half dozen other officers. Not only were the vessels
to be constructed out of such material as they could at once lay hands on, but
gun-carriages had to be made, guns cast, and cordage and anchors procured, and
then western boatmen taken and drilled into "men-of-war’s men."
Foote had great confidence in him, and when the fleet was ready, he directed him
to make an experimental trip with it.. He did so, and reported the result to the
former, who expressed great gratification with it. He then took the first
division of the flotilla down the river, and joined Grant at Cairo, Foote
remaining in charge of the second division. Having performed this duty, he was
ordered back to St. Louis to relieve Foote, and bring down the second division
also. While in charge of this, and in command of the flagship Benton, which had got hard aground, he met with an accident, which
came near depriving the country of his valuable services. While superintending
the work of getting the unwieldy monster off shore, the chain attached to it
parted with the tremendous strain put upon it, and the broken link, flying with
the force of a cannon ball, struck his left arm, tearing out the tendons, and
making a frightful wound. Crippled and bleeding, he was carried to his couch,
where he lay helpless for some time. As soon as he was able, he went home to
recover; but, just as Foote was leaving for Fort Pillow, he joined him again.
After the action at this place, he was ordered up to hurry down the rams, and
did not rejoin the fleet till after the action at Memphis. He was then ordered
to relieve the officer in command of the division at St. Charles, White River,
where the Mound City had been blown
up, in the capture of the place. The object of this expedition, aided by one
regiment under Colonel Fitch, was to succor General Curtis. But the enemy was in
too great force, and attacked the fleet with rifles every day, keeping the
shores aflame with their fire. In the mean time, the river began to fall
rapidly, and, in order to detain the fleet until it would be left aground, the
enemy sunk vessels in the channel. For awhile, it seemed probable that Winslow
would be caught as Porter was up the Red River, but by great effort he succeeded
in destroying the sunken hulks, and reached the Mississippi in safety. He now
took the Cincinnati, and joined the
fleet en route for Vicksburg. Effecting a junction with the lower fleet, in the
action that followed he covered the mortar boats. Remaining here two weeks, he
was sent back to Memphis to cooperate with Sherman and take charge of the river
above. While he was engaged in sending out various expeditions against the
guerillas, and moving backward and forward to keep the river free of
obstructions from the pestilent gangs, Davis was relieved from command of the
fleet. Winslow now applied to the Department to be transferred to sea-service,
as one more congenial to his tastes. The pilots and volunteer officers, hearing
of this, waited upon him, and informed him that they were about sending a
delegation to Washington, to request the President to give him command of the
fleet, and to say that, if he refused, they should in a body resign. They also
informed him, to his surprise, that a similar application had been made after
the battle of Fort Pillow, and now, if their request was not granted, they
should leave the service. Though gratified at this voluntary, strong testimonial
of the attachment of the officers to him, he was grieved at the action they
contemplated. In the first place, he wished no promotion obtained in this way.
In the second place, a true patriot, himself, he desired that the country should
have the services of these gallant men, no matter what became of him. He told
them so, and that they must on no account let any personal matter come between
them and their country that had the first and last claim on them. Inspiring them
with his own unselfish and patriotic spirit, he succeeded in dissuading them
from their purpose.
Fortunately for his own fame,
and the honor of his country, and especially of the navy, his request to be
transferred to sea service was granted, and he was shortly afterwards ordered to
take command of the Kearsarge. He
joined the vessel in the early part of the year 1863, and was ordered to the
coast of Europe to watch rebel cruisers. It was with a sense of relief and
freedom he found himself once more on the broad bosom of the ocean, which had
been his home for so many years. A man, who, all his life, had been accustomed
to the deck and armament of a man-of-war, felt ill at ease in the cramped-up,
nondescript craft that composed the western flotilla. Besides this dodging about
up crooked narrow streams, fighting guerillas on shore, and raking for torpedoes
on the bottom of rivers, is to the thorough-trained sailor and commander very
much what bushwhacking and guerilla fighting is to a brave and able commander on
shore.
In command of a fine vessel,
with a noble crew under him, and out on the open sea, Winslow lacked nothing to
complete his happiness but to meet a rebel cruiser, his equal in size and
armament, in a fair sea-fight.
The rebel vessel Florida,
having been heard of off the coast of South America, he was sent in search of
her.
Subsequently, he cruised in
the channels off the coast of England and France. Here he was constantly kept in
hot water by the French and English Governments, which complained of his
violations of the neutrality laws. The French, petulant and complaining, ordered
the French pilots not to serve him, and he had to become his own pilot, which,
fortunately, he was perfectly able to be, showing these gentlemen that he knew
the waters that washed their coast quite as well as they did. Finding the Florida
in Brest, and about to sail, he blockaded the port, and, though it was
midwinter, the stormiest season of the year, he boldly carried his ship into
intricate bays, along lee shores, through races where the eddying currents swept
at the rate of seven knots an hour, and where ships had never been before, with
a skill and daring that made the French pilots stare with surprise. They could
not comprehend what to them seemed the recklessness of the American commander,
who without a pilot, would undauntedly steam through channels along which the
sea ran like a torrent, the breakers foaming and thundering on each side of him,
and where a vessel had never before been known to go. In any commander but one
who knew the ground thoroughly, it would have been madness; for he was more than
once caught in these dangerous channels in gales that strewed the shores of
England with wrecks.
In the presence of such a bold
and vigilant enemy the Florida dared
not leave port. The duty that Winslow performed was, in this cold and stormy
season, a most trying one. Yet the crew, inspired with his own energy and
enthusiasm, cheerfully seconded all his efforts.
At length, however, he got
short of provisions, and was reluctantly compelled to set sail for Cadiz, to
obtain supplies. Taking advantage of his forced absence, the Florida
slipped out of port and put to sea. Winslow, however, was soon back, and steamed
in search of the fugitive. Overhauling one vessel after another only to find
them French vessels, he was compelled at last to acknowledge that the enemy
which he had watched so long and faithfully was beyond his reach.
Having been foiled in his
efforts to capture the Florida, he
proceeded to Calais, where he had learned that the rebel steamer Rappahannock
was. He lay off this port for two long months, watching and waiting in vain for
the rebel to put to sea.
At length, one day on running
into Ostend—a short trip, which would not interfere with his keeping the Rappahannock
from putting to sea—a pilot in the employ of the rebels ran the vessel plump
ashore, breaking through the piers. Winslow saw at once that it was done on
purpose, and, divining the object, was roused by it into tenfold energy and
determination. He sternly ordered every pilot from the ship, resolved to be his
own pilot, and, summoning all hands, went to work, and by great efforts hove off
his ship before morning.
The commander of the Rappahannock,
who was waiting for this calamity to befall Winslow, the moment he heard of it
accepted the French terms that had been dictated to him, and prepared to put to
sea. Winslow, however, who was kept informed of his movements, heard of it, and
immediately hoisted anchor, and, without waiting for some of his officers and
crew who were on shore to come on board, steamed out of the harbor. When the
morning sun broke over the sea, the rebel commander, to his astonishment, saw
his enemy once more off the port of Calais. He H now gave it up, and taking
everything out of the ship finally dismantled her.
Seeing this enemy disposed of,
Winslow went to Flushing to repair in dock. He had scarcely completed his
repairs when he received a telegram stating that the Alabama had arrived in Cherbourg. This was exciting news—all hands
were called, and the bow of the Kearsarge
was quickly cleaving the waves towards Cherbourg. Two days after, he lay off the
port.
Semmes, the commander of the Alabama,
when he was informed of the arrival of the Kearsarge,
sent Winslow the following challenge:
CONFEDERATE STEAMER ALABAMA,
CHERBOURG, June 14th, 1864.
Sir,—I hear that you were
informed by the United States Consul that the Kearsarge was to come to this port solely for the prisoners landed
by me, and that she was to depart in twenty-four hours. I desire you to say to
the United States Consul that my intention is to fight the Kearsarge as soon as I can make the necessary arrangements. I hope
these will not detain me more than till to-morrow evening, or next morning, at
the farthest. I beg she will not depart before I am ready to go out.
I have the honor to be, very
respectfully, your obedient servant,
R. SEMMES, Captain.
Semmes may have heard
that the mission of the Kearsarge was
the peaceful, timid one he represents, but we do not believe he, for one moment,
credited the rumor. He knew perfectly well that his old friend had been chasing
him half round the globe to get a fight out of him, and had heard too that he
had said that, if they ever met, one ship or the other would go to the bottom,
and the introduction of this pretended "hearsay" was meant as a taunt.
Irritated at being so long chased and held up to the world as a pirate, and now
confronted by his old messmate and present foe, he thought he would irritate in
turn, by hinting that the Kearsarge
would hasten to get out of harm’s way. He knew better—he knew that he had
got to remain a prisoner in that port, or sneak away clandestinely, which would
be a confession of weakness and fear or fight. Winslow quietly waited for five
days, perfectly willing to give the Alabama
ample time to complete all her arrangements.
The Sabbath morning of the
19th of June was a lovely one. No strong wind lashed the sea into waves, but a
gentle breeze came drifting in from the ocean, bringing a slight haze, through
which the summer sun shone with a softened radiance upon the deep. Semmes had
made no concealment of his intended fight, nor of the time it would come off,
and the news that it was expected to take place on this Sunday morning had
spread over the surrounding country, so that an excursion train was sent down
from Paris, loaded with passengers to witness it. A photographer perched himself
with all his apparatus in a church tower that overlooked the neighboring sea, in
order to obtain a sketch of the approaching combat. The port swarmed with
boatmen offering their boats to those who wished to go out and witness it, and
the quiet town of Cherbourg looked as if some great fête was about to come off.
There were two, however, who did not feel so—Captains Semmes and Winslow. Each
knew the other well—his bravery and resolution—and that the approaching
struggle would be a desperate and decisive one. Semmes was determined to fight
his ship to the last, and was well aware that the proud American flag swaying
far out to sea would never go down before his guns, except it went to the
bottom. The night before, he had told M. Bonfils, the agent of the Confederate
government in port, that he was a Roman Catholic, and, as he would not be able
to attend divine service the next day, requested him to attend mass and have it
offered up for him. He did so, but the prayers, it seems, were unanswered.
Winslow was equally serious,
for, notwithstanding his confidence in his ship, the crew, and himself, he knew
how often the fate of a battle turns on a chance shot. His life, his reputation,
and the honor of his flag, he was well aware, were in jeopardy, and were all to
be cast at once on the doubtful issue of an even-handed fight. Of only one thing
he was certain, that, ere that Sabbath sun touched the western waves, his fame
would be secure, his flag victorious, and the scourge of the ocean no more, or
he and his good ship would be lying together on the bottom of the deep. But
quietly making all his preparations, he seriously committed himself and the flag
of his country to Him who lifts up or casts down, according to His sovereign
pleasure. The Alabama bore the motto,
"Aide toi et Dieu t’aidera," “Help yourself and God will help
you."
Semmes, in his plundering
career, had accumulated sixty
chronometers, which he took the precaution to send ashore, that they might be
saved in case of disaster to his ship.
Spectators, in the mean time,
crowded every spot that commanded a view of the neighboring sea, and the most
intense excitement prevailed among the vast throng. A little after nine, as the
church bells were ringing, calling people to the house of prayer, the Alabama
cast loose, and began to steam out of the harbor. As the graceful vessel slowly
drifted past the mole, black with the eager crowd, a mighty shout rent the air,
and "God speed you!" rolled over the quiet waters of the bay. For a
response, came back the stern roll of drums beating to quarters. About ten
o’clock, Winslow, through his glass, saw the head of the steamer coming round
the end of the mole, some three miles distant, and immediately beat to quarters.
The French steamer Couronne
accompanied the Alabama, till she
reached the limits of French waters, and then steamed back without waiting to
witness the combat. The English yacht Deerhound
also followed after—the owner of which, having received a telegraph at Caen,
informing him of the expected fight, had hastened down with his wife and family
to witness it. Determined to be a close spectator, at the risk of receiving a
random shot, he kept on after the Couronne
had turned back. By a singular coincidence this yacht was built by the famous,
or rather infamous, house of Laird & Co., that had also built the Alabama,
with which the rebels had driven our commerce from the ocean. She was now to
witness what the handiwork of these rebel sympathizers would do.
Winslow, as soon as he
descried his antagonist approaching, turned his vessel and steamed slowly
seaward, for the double purpose of avoiding the question of jurisdiction, and to
have the battle take place so far from shore that his adversary, if crippled,
could not take refuge in port, before he had time to finish him. The Alabama
followed after, and for awhile it looked from shore like a chase, rather than a
fight. But when Winslow had got about seven miles out, he turned short about,
and, putting on steam, steered straight for his enemy, intending to run him
down. Semmes, discovering his design, slowed his engines and sheered off, thus
presenting his starboard battery to the Kearsarge.
The latter was now about a mile off and was moving steadily ahead, when there
suddenly came sharp puffs of smoke from the side of the Alabama, followed by the deep thunder of her guns rolling over the
tranquil sea. The shot and shell flew over the Kearsarge, cutting up her rigging, but effecting no serious damage.
Like the gallant Hull, in the first sea-fight of the war of 1812, Winslow made
no reply, but sternly ordered the engineer to put on more steam, and the noble
steamer the next moment was dashing the foam from her bows, as she pressed
forward for a death grapple. In two minutes came another broadside, and then
another, yet not a gun replied. Silently and sternly Winslow kept on his way,
but, as he approached, bows on, he saw that he was in danger of being raked, and
therefore, when about a half a mile distant, he sheered, so as to bring his own
broadside to bear, and fired his first gun. The crashing shot and bursting
shell, that made the rebel ship tremble, showed Semmes that his adversary
intended to throw away no shot in this deadly encounter. Wheeling, Winslow again
pressed on under a full head of steam, in order to get in close range, but soon
sheered and poured in another broadside. In about ten minutes, the spanker gaff
of the Alabama and the ensign came
down on a run. These were immediately replaced, and the fight went on. The two
vessels were now steaming at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour—and
every few minutes sheering so as to bring their broadsides to bear, they were
forced to fight in circles, swinging steadily around an ever changing centre.
The firing, when within a quarter of a mile of each other, was rapid and
terrible. Two guns of the Kearsarge,
carrying eleven-inch shells, did fearful damage, making great gaps in the hull
of the enemy. The former, in the mean time, received but little injury from the
wild firing of her antagonist. But, about twenty minutes after the conflict
began, a sixty-pound Blakely shell passed through her bulwarks, and, bursting
with a terrific explosion on the quarter-deck, wounded three of the crew of the
pivot-gun. One of them was named William Gowin, who, though pale and suffering
acutely, was carried to the surgeon with a smile on his face "It is all
right," said the brave fellow, "we are whipping the Alabama.
I willingly lose my leg or life, if necessary;" and, as the heavy
broadsides shook the deck, he would comfort his two wounded comrades by telling
them that "victory was certain." And as ever and anon the cheers of
the crew were borne to his ears, when they saw the shell and shot planted in a
vital part of the Alabama, he would
wave his hand over his head, and give a faint cheer in reply. A true hero to the
last, when the battle was over, and he found himself dying, he exclaimed,
"I am willing to die, for we have won a glorious victory!" With a crew
composed of such men, a commander can never suffer defeat.
The difference between the
firing of the two vessels was very marked. The Alabama fired rapidly —almost two guns to the Kearsarge’s one—but very wild. Now a shot would enter the
starboard gangway, a shell here, and another there, cut away planking, or crash
through the engine house, while the rigging seemed alive with the hissing,
exploding missiles, yet none of them doing but little damage. Winslow, on the
contrary, fought his ship as coolly as though engaged in mere practice. To the
different officers he said, "Don’t let the men fire too rapidly. Point
the heavy guns below rather than above the water-line, and sweep the decks with
the lighter ones"‘ It is astonishing to see how the character and bearing
of a commander affect the conduct of the crew. Receiving their inspiration from
him, the gunners pointed their pieces with the coolness and precision they would
have done if firing at a target, the only evidence of excitement being the
cheers that rose over the thunder of the guns, as they saw a huge gap open in
the side of the Alabama, where an
eleven-inch shell entered at her water-line. Besides her regular armament, the Kearsarge
had a twelve-pound howitzer, which was wholly useless in the fight, unless the
vessels came to such close quarters that grape could be used. This piece was put
in charge of two old quartermasters, "the two Dromios" of the ship, as
they were laughingly called, with orders not to fire until directed to do so The
jolly old salts, however, had no intention of remaining idle, while their
messmates were having, as they said, "all the fun." So when the combat
thickened, and the enemy’s shells and shot came bursting and tumbling about
their ears, they forgot their orders, and loaded and fired their howitzer, as
though the battle rested solely on their exertions. They knew perfectly well
that it was a mere waste of ammunition, yet they greeted each discharge with a
loud cheer, and between the shots would curse and swear at each other, for not
making better hits, in the most approved man-of-war style. This droll exhibition
drew peals of laughter from the crew, that sounded strangely amid the din and
uproar of the awful cannonade that shook the deep. The officers saw at a glance
in what excellent condition for cool, effective fighting this jolly humor kept
the men, and, amused themselves at the ludicrous picture which these old
privileged favorites of the ship presented, did not interfere, and let them fire
on until their entire box of ammunition was exhausted.
On the Alabama, a very different scene presented itself. Stripped to their
shirts and drawers, the heated gunners worked their pieces with desperate
energy; for the ripping planks and shuddering hull, and splintered masts, and
bloody decks, told them that this mode of fighting could not last long. One shot
alone disabled a gun, and killed and wounded eighteen men. Another exploded in
the coal bunks, completely blocking up the engine-room, while on every side the
ship seemed to be incessantly struck with Titanic sledge-hammers. Thus round and
round in their fiery, cloudy circles, the well-matched steamers swept—the Kearsarge
edging nearer and nearer as she moved on her pathway of flame, Winslow straining
every nerve to get to closer quarters, where he could sweep the decks of his
adversary with grape. At the seventh rotation, as the American commander was
just getting warmed to his work, or rather when, as he said, he "supposed
the action for hot works had just commenced," he saw the Alabama
set her fore trysail and two jibs, and turn her head towards the shore. He knew
at once that it was all up with her, for she limped heavily on her way, and,
steaming after her, poured in shot and shell with such destructive power, that
in a few moments the rebel flag came down, and a white flag was run up. He at
once ordered the firing to cease. But, in less than two minutes, the enemy
opened again with two guns, when the Kearsarge
suddenly belched forth flames, and, steaming grandly ahead, was laid across her
adversary’s bows for raking, just as the white flag was a second time run up.
In a few moments, boats were
seen lowering into the water, and an officer in one of them rowed quickly
alongside, saying that the ship had surrendered and was sinking, and that with
Winslow’s permission he would return and bring off the prisoners.
But scarcely twenty minutes
passed, when the Alabama threw her
bows high out of the water, like some huge drowning animal making a last
struggle for life the mainmast, which had been half cut in two by a shot,
breaking off in the effort—and then with one heavy lurch went to the bottom,
with all her armament and a part of her crew, leaving only the swirling waters
to tell where she had gone down. Amid the eddying waves that clashed above her
descending form, a crowd of human heads were seen struggling for life. Winslow
immediately ordered the only two boats he had left, to be lowered, and hasten to
the rescue of the drowning men. Observing the yacht Deerhound
steaming towards the scene of disaster, he called out, "For God’s sake,
do what you can to save them!" She immediately began to pick up the
swimmers, and soon the boats of the Kearsarge
were on the spot engaged in the same humane work. Semmes, nearly exhausted, was
picked up by the Deerhound. The moment
he was on board, he begged not to be delivered up to Winslow, and was placed in
the bottom of the boat and covered with hammock cloths. As soon as she had got
her load, the Deerhound steamed
rapidly away for the English coast. Mr. Lancaster knew that in doing this he was
carrying off our prisoners, and had Winslow anticipated such faithlessness, or
want of honor, he would have brought the Englishman to with a shot.
Captain Semmes, in his report,
written while smarting under his defeat, said, "The enemy fired on me five
times after my colors had been struck. It is charitable to suppose that a
ship-of-war of a Christian nation could not have done this intentionally."
Why, then, does he mention it at all, or in a way that clearly shows that he
wants the reader believe it was done on purpose? A man of any sagacity would
have left this out, for he would have known that so preposterous a supposition
would not be believed by any one, and would damage nobody but himself.
The disparity of loss in this
engagement was very remarkable—the Kearsarge,
though receiving twice as many shots as she gave, had only three killed and
wounded in all, while, according to Semmes’ own report, his loss was thirty,
or ten times as great as that of his adversary. If the same proportion had been
preserved, under an equal number of shots, the loss would have been as one to
about twenty.
This naval engagement, which
lasted only a little over an hour, and resulted in such a triumphant victory,
created a most profound sensation in Europe, and the English papers discussed it
in a manner and spirit that at this time only provokes a smile of derision. One
said that the Alabama, having just
returned from a long voyage, was not in a condition to fight-forgetting that
this reflected quite as severely on Semmes as his defeat, for he was not
compelled to fight till he was prepared. He could have staid in Cherbourg a
month, if he liked, or until he was in a condition to go to sea. An officer who
knowingly and unnecessarily takes his ship into action, when she is not in a
seaworthy condition, is not fit to command one.
Another, apparently seeing the
dilemma in which this placed the rebel commander, said that it was probable that
Semmes knew that his ship was not only in a dilapidated condition, but that she
was too far gone ever to be rendered fit for service again, and, in the true
spirit of chivalry, resolved to give her a glorious death, and so go out and
sink her alongside with her colors flying. This is a worse explanation than the
other, for it makes Semmes a barbarian. Rather than his ship should rot in the
port of Cherbourg, he would destroy all that gallant crew which had followed him
so long. Besides, the ship did not go down with her colors flying, but with the
white flag of surrender alone fluttering in the breeze. But the great
explanation of the defeat was the disparity between the two vessels. It was
affirmed, without the least knowledge of the facts, that the Kearsarge
was the heavier vessel, with heavier armament, and a larger crew. This was the
stereotyped excuse offered by Englishmen for those astounding victories in
almost every single-handed sea fight that occurred between the national vessels
in the war of 1812.
Although this attempt to pluck
away Winslow’s well-earned laurels was owing in some measure to the sympathy
generally felt in England towards the South, it is, doubtless, mainly to be
attributed to the fact that the Alabama
was an English ship, armed with English guns, and fought by an English crew, so
that they felt it was a combat between an English and American ship-of-war. It
was this that made them feel so sore. If the Alabama had been victorious, it would have been claimed really as an
English victory. But, unfortunately, the English vessel having gone to the
bottom, there was nothing left them but the old absurd cry of an unequal fight.
Again, Semmes and his English
friends endeavored to lessen the victory, by saying that the Kearsarge
was iron-plated, the former asserting that he did not know, till the action was
over, that she was iron-clad. Now this iron-plating was simply some spare chain
cable, hung over the vessel amidships, and boxed over with planking. Its main
object was to protect the engines, as the Kearsarge
was lightly loaded with coal, while the Alabama
was so deeply loaded, that her engines were protected without it. This,
doubtless, is the reason Semmes did not resort to the same expedient, for it had
become a custom among all vessels to do so, ever since Farragut had set the
example at New Orleans.
Semmes exhibits his own
character in a painful light in his report, which abounds in transparent
falsehood, either direct or implied. He was perfectly aware of the existence of
these chains, for he said, some days previous to the fight, "that they were
only attached together with rope-yarn, and would drop into the water with the
first shot." If these chains were really of such vast service, and he
neglected to put them on his own ship, it would have been much better for his
reputation had he said nothing about it.
The following figures show how
much reliance can be placed on Captain Semmes’ statements. He says, "The
enemy was heavier than myself, both in ship, battery and crew:"
Alabama
Kearsarge
Length
over all,
220 feet
214 feet
Length in water-line,
210 "
198 "
Beam,
32 "
33 “
Depth,
17 "
16 “
Horse-power-two engines,
300 each.
400
Tonnage,
1150
1031
Thus, it will be seen that the
Alabama was the longest vessel,
deepest vessel, possessing greater engine power, and the heaviest vessel.
Besides, she had one more gun than the Kearsarge,
although the latter, by her large guns, threw the heaviest broadside. But,
during the engagement, the Kearsarge
fought only five guns, while the Alabama
fought seven. The latter also fired nearly double the number of shots that the
former did. Hence, so far as the amount of metal thrown, the Alabama
had clearly the best of it. It is true the Kearsarge
had one great advantage, which we cheerfully concede: she carried American guns,
chiefly Dahlgrens, while the Alabama’s
armament was wholly English. Thus much as to Semmes’ statement that the Kearsarge
was heavier both in ship and battery.
We will now examine the
captain’s statement that his antagonist outnumbered him in the crew. It is a
matter of small moment, however, in an engagement like this, which was fought by
shot and shell alone; for in such an encounter, any more men than are necessary
to work the guns and handle the ship, are in the way. It is only in boarding, or
close quarters, where the numerical superiority of the crew gives any advantage.
But be that as it may, the Kearsarge’s
vast superiority in crew consisted of just sixteen men. Winslow reports his
crew, including officers and sick, one
hundred and sixty-three. Many of the English papers made the crew of the Alabama to consist of only about one hundred persons. Mr. Mason,
Confederate representative in London, declared, over his own signature, that it
numbered just one hundred and twenty. But three days after, the Liverpool Mercury
published a complete list of the crew of the Alabama,
giving the names of all, except those picked up by the Deerhound,
and this list sums up one hundred and three. Now, the latter picked up
forty-four, thus making in all one hundred and forty-seven against one hundred
and sixty-three. The simple truth is, that there never was, and probably never
will be, a naval duel between two vessels more equally matched than these. The
secret of success lay here, as it did in the single-handed fights between
British and American frigates in the war of 1812, not in superior bravery, or
seamanship, or vessels, but in superior gunnery. Dahlgren’s guns here
vindicated themselves.
The Constitution was ready to go again into action in a few hours after
the Guerrière went to the
bottom—so, subsequently, every spar was standing in her, while the Java lay a helpless wreck on the ocean. So now, the Kearsarge
had hardly begun to fight, when the Alabama
went down with all her dead on board.
A great deal of noise was made
over Semmes’ chivalrous character, because he threw his sword into the sea,
rather than surrender it to his enemy—on which the London News
sarcastically remarks, "he had better thrown
over his trumpet with the sword."
The conduct of Mr. Lancaster,
owner of the yacht, met with universal condemnation on both sides of the water.
Urged by Winslow to help those who he knew had surrendered themselves prisoners
of war, he no sooner got Captain Semmes and some forty more aboard his vessel,
than he steamed away, at the rate of thirteen knots an hour, for Southampton. He
dared not return to Cherbourg, for he knew he was acting the part of a thief,
and so made haste to get into an English port. So hard was he scourged for his
dishonorable conduct, that he found it necessary to publish a defence, which
only made the matter worse. He says, "Captain Winslow’s request to help
save the crew was not accompanied with any stipulation, to the effect that I
should deliver up the rescued men to him as prisoners. If it had been, I should
have declined the task, because I should have deemed it dishonorable—that is,
inconsistent with my notions of honor—to lend my yacht and crew, for the
purpose of rescuing those brave men from drowning, only to hand them over to
their enemies for imprisonment, ill treatment, and perhaps execution."
What a confession is this for
a member of the Royal Yacht Squadron to make? Because Winslow made no
stipulation that he should deliver up to him men who had surrendered and were
prisoners of war, and hence just as much his, by the laws of nations and the
laws of honor as though they were on board his vessel, he therefore felt
justified in running away with them! That is, if Winslow saw a large amount of
his own property floating about, and in danger of being lost, and should ask Mr.
Lancaster to help him save it, the latter, after picking up a good boat-load,
would run away with it, because the request to save it was not accompanied with
a stipulation that he should return it to the lawful owner!
One hardly knows which to
admire most in this barefaced statement—its morals or its logic. Again he
says: "I should have deemed it inconsistent with my notions of honor to
lend my yacht and crew for the purpose of rescuing those brave men from
drowning, &c." His sense of honor would have forced him to look
stolidly on and see those men drown, rather than save them, if they were to be
held as prisoners. This certainly is a most extraordinary exhibition of honor,
and exists nowhere, we apprehend, except in the British Isles. One would think
that a proper feeling of honor, not to say of humanity, would prompt a man to
consult the men struggling for life, to know whether they preferred to go to the
bottom, or be saved as prisoners. They had already taken their choice, and
surrendered rather than sink with the ship, and now asked to be saved. But this
Englishman, with his notions of honor, thinks that they did not know what was
best for themselves, and rather than save them on the very terms they had
accepted, he would have allowed them to drown.
One can imagine this pompous
Englishman moving off with his yacht, while the half-drowning crew is
despairingly calling on him to save them, with the reply: "Captain Winslow
has ordered me to give you up as prisoners, and it is inconsistent with my sense
of honor to save you on those terms—and you had better go to the bottom."
If Captain Winslow had dreamed
how little sense of honor the man possessed, he would have wakened him up to the
sense of it with shot and shell, in a manner that would have taught him better
logic and better manners.
We venture to say that it will
be the last time a vessel of the Royal Yacht Squadron will be a close spectator
of a naval engagement in which one of the combatants is an American ship of war.
Captain Winslow received the following highly complimentary letter from the
Secretary of the Navy, who did not attempt to conceal his great delight at the
summary destruction of this vessel, which almost alone had driven our commerce
from the seas.
NAVY DEPARTMENT, July 6, 1863.
Sir;—Your brief dispatches
of the 19th and 20th ultimo, informing the Department that the piratical craft Alabama,
or "290," had been sunk, on the 19th of June, near meridian, by the Kearsarge, under your command, was this day received. I congratulate
you on your good fortune in meeting this vessel, which had so long avoided the
fastest ships, and some of the most vigilant and intelligent officers of the
service, and, for the ability displayed in this combat, you have the thanks of
the Department.
You will express to the
officers and crew of the Kearsarge,
the satisfaction of the Government at the victory over a vessel, superior in
tonnage, superior in number of guns, and superior in the number of her crew. The
battle was so brief, the victory so decisive, and the comparative results so
striking, that the country will be reminded of the brilliant actions of our
infant Navy, which have been repeated and illustrated in this engagement,
"The Alabama represented the best
maritime efforts of the most skilful English workshops. Her battery was composed
of the well-tried thirty-two pounders, of fifty-seven hundred weight, of the
famous 68-pounder of the British Navy, and of the only successful rifled
100-pounder yet produced in England. The crew were generally recruited in Great
Britain, and many of them received superior training on board her majesty’s
gunnery ship, the Excellent.
The Kearsarge is one of the first gunboats built at our Navy Yards, at
the commencement of the rebellion, and lacks the improvements of vessels now
under construction. The principal guns composing her battery had never been
previously tried in an exclusively naval engagement, yet, in one hour you
succeeded in sinking your antagonist, thus fully ending her predatory career,
and killed many of her crew, without injury to the Kearsarge,
or the loss of a single life on your vessel. Our countrymen have reason to be
satisfied, that in this as in every naval action of this unhappy war, neither
the ships, the guns, nor the crews, have been deteriorated, but that they
maintain the abilities and continue the renown which ever adorned our naval
annals.
The President has signified
his intention to recommend that you receive a vote of thanks, in order that you
may be advanced to the grade of Commodore. Lieutenant Commander James S.
Thornton, the executive officer of the Kearsarge,
will be recommended to the Senate for advancement ten numbers in his grade, and
you will report to the Department the names of any others of the officers and
crew, whose good conduct on this occasion entitle them to especial mention.
Very respectfully,
GIDEON WELLES,
Secretary of the Navy.
CAPTAIN JOHN A. WINSLOW,
commd’g. U. S. Steamer Kearsarge,
Cherbourg, France.
But if the Government was
delighted and Europe excited over the result of this naval conflict, the people
of this country were filled with unbounded enthusiasm. This vessel had seemed as
ubiquitous as the Flying Dutchman—so
erratic were her movements, and rapid her transitions, that the most experienced
officers that were sent in pursuit of her invariably returned baffled. The
swiftest steamers scoured the ocean in search of her, but always failed to find
her. Yet she did not hide away in obscure places, but boldly stood along the
track of our commerce, and made the ocean lurid with the flames of our
merchantmen, which she burned because there was no port that dared to receive
the prizes. One day she would be on the Atlantic seaboard—the next, lost in
the intricate mazes of the West India Islands, and, when the search for her was
about to be abandoned, news would come that she was flaunting her flag in the
Indian Ocean, sending terror amid our vessels in that remote part of the world.
The people were irritated, indignant, and mortified, that this bold rover should
so put to defiance our fleetest steamers and best commanders. But now her career
was ended—not by the storms of heaven, or hidden sea-rocks, nor yet by being
ignominiously shut up in a neutral harbor-but in fair. open combat had been sent
to the bottom by a vessel inferior in size-in a fight, too, not forced on her by
circumstances, but one of her own choosing. Her commander had sent an open
challenge, thus inviting spectators to come and witness our defeat. The national
feeling was satisfied, and the name of Winslow was mentioned with pride by every
tongue.
Yet, right on the top of this,
the Secretary of the Navy wrote to Winslow: "I notice by the last mail from
England that it is reported that you have paroled the foreign pirates captured
on board the Alabama. I trust you have
not committed this error of judgment." And again: “In parolling the
prisoners, however, you committed a grave error." How did the Secretary of
the Navy know this, for he had never yet received Winslow’s report of his
proceedings? What right had he to censure a gallant officer on mere rumor? It
never occurred to him that this brave commander, whose whole life had been spent
in the naval service, knew vastly better what was proper and right under the
circumstances than he could who had been but three years or so in the Navy
Department. It always has been a source of annoyance to our naval commanders
that they are under the orders of an officer wholly ignorant of the naval
profession. A lawyer, or editor, or politician, is placed at the head of the
navy, and, seemingly thinking that all necessary qualifications come with the
office, conveys or gives orders or proposes measures that a. naval officer would
never think of doing. That the War and Navy Departments of this great country
should, every four years, be put under a new man, to whom the duties of both are
wholly unknown, is an error that has cost us and will cost us in the future
millions of treasure and oceans of blood.
Winslow, in reply to this
censure, said that his decks were crowded with the bedding of the wounded and
prisoners under guard; moreover, the ship was damaged both in rigging and hull.
A shot had entered the sternpost, raising the transom frame and binding the
rudder so hard as to require four men at the helm. It was therefore important
that an examination should be made of the damages sustained. This, of course,
could not be done without clearing the ship. This was the more important, as he
continued, “I received information from our consul, in London, that the Florida
was in the channel on the French coast, and at the same time information came
that the Yeddo was out, and the Rappahannock
was expected to follow." He had heard that the sea around him was alive
with rebel cruisers, with no vessel but the Kearsarge
to take care of them. "It therefore became," he says, "in my
mind, of the utmost importance that the Kearsarge
should at once be put in a state to meet these vessels and protect our commerce.
This could not be done with prisoners on board equalling half of our crew, and
the room occupied by the wounded, to the exclusion of our own men; to have kept
them would have required a quarterwatch as guards, and the ship would have been
wholly ineffective as a man-of-war to meet this emergency which threatened.
Under these circumstances, and without an American vessel in port, by which
arrangements could be made for transshipping the prisoners outside, I felt it my
duty to parole them." Of course it was his duty to do so—not to act as
jailor to thirty or forty men, but strip his vessel for another fight, and keep
rebel cruisers from these waters.
Commodore Winslow has all the
qualities that go to make up a great naval commander—a naturally strong
intellect, cultivated by careful training and long practical experience. Quiet
in his manner, he is yet capable of intense excitement, but which shows itself
only in increased energy and determination. Apparently destitute of fear, he is,
notwithstanding, never rash. When once fairly roused, no obstacles can stop him,
no dangers daunt him. Of great powers of endurance, and a courage that never
flags, there seems no limit to his exertions. Rock-fast in his resolution he
moves to his purpose with a firmness before which everything must give way. His
remark that he was just getting ready for "warm work" when the Alabama
surrendered, reminds one of Paul Jones, who, when asked if he had surrendered,
replied that he had just begun to fight, and throws a flood of light on the
character of the man. Without being vain, he has a supreme confidence in
himself—a self-reliance growing out of the consciousness of power. Scorning
cant, trickery, and humbug, in others, he never blows his own trumpet, and,
instead of overestimating, underrates his own actions. He sees only the simple
performance of duty where others are dazzled with the heroism of his conduct,
and hence did not fully appreciate the enthusiasm of the people at his victory
over the Alabama. His fame is secure,
and his name, which in one hour he made known the world over, will go down to
posterity on the same historic roll with Hull and Bainbridge, and Perry and
McDonough, and other naval heroes of the nation.