an earthquake shock.” For one brief, cor-
uscating moment, sinking by the bow, her
propeller could be seen racing madly in the
air, then she foundered, dragging into the
chasm her captain and 92 men.
“Immediately,” said Surgeon Conrad of
the Tennessee, “immense bubbles of
steam, as large as cauldrons, rose to the
surface of the water ... only eight human
beings could be seen in the turmoil.”
John Collins, the Tecumseh’s pilot, was
one of them. He and Captain Craven
stood at the ladder of the turret roof.
“After you, pilot,” said the captain.
“There was nothing after me,” Collins said
later. “When I reached the utmost rung of
the ladder, the vessel seemed to drop from
under me.” Some men leaped from the side
and swam away from the suction. Every-
where, for a few moments, an eerie silence
took hold as men stared. At Fort Morgan,
General Page ordered his gunners to hold
their fire against the boats that were res-
cuing survivors.
While the Tecumsehwas rushing to her
doom, she was involving the leading screw
sloop Brooklynin a situation that threat-
ened disaster for the whole fleet. One of
her lookouts reported shoal water to port,
in the direction of the minefield, a stretch
of water that was out of bounds. Then “a
row of suspicious looking buoys directly
under our bow” was spotted—empty shell
boxes from Fort Morgan. Unsure of
whether to stop or press on, Captain James
Alden of the Brooklynbacked engines to
clear the hazard, threatening collision
along the entire battle line. In any case,
stalled in the Tecumseh’s mess, Brooklyn
made the whole fleet, brought into a con-
fused huddle in the narrow channel, a sta-
tionary point-blank target. The Rebel gun-
ners in Fort Morgan, recently driven to
shelter by the fleet’s broadsides, returned
to their pieces, unleashing a wilting coun-
terfire that cut down scores of sailors. Fur-
thermore, from such a disordered forma-
tion, as compressing the van hindmost
onto center, the fleet could not return an
effective counterfire, or even withdraw
without confusion and loss.
At this critical moment, a naval officerobserved, “The batteries of our ships were
almost silent, while the whole of Mobile
Point was a living line of flame.” Lieu-
tenant Kinney of the Hartfordremem-
bered, “The sight was sickening beyond the
power of words to portray. Shot after shot
came through the side, mowing down the
men, deluging the decks with blood, and
scattering mangled fragments of human-
ity.” From ahead came the relentless raking
fire of the Confederate squadron, against
which Farragut could not reply.
The battle was turning on the edge of a
razor. The slightest flinching by Farragut
was critical. A great commander by
nature, every bit as bold and intelligent
as the transcendent Nelson, Farragut’s
qualities of leadership carried the day.
From his lofty position just below the
main top, he asked the pilot if there was
sufficient depth of water for Hartfordto
pass to the port of Brooklyn. Receiving
an affirmative, with propeller churning
ahead, the flagship pivoted on her heel
and shot past the confused Brooklyn.
There are several versions of just what
Farragut said and did next. It is alleged
that as the Hartfordpassed the Brooklyn,
someone aboard Brooklyncried out a
warning of torpedoes to the admiral, in
answer to which he shouted the famous
words, “Damn the torpedoes, full speed
ahead!” Most Farragut biographers and
historians of the battle give full credence
to the episode and his words, yet they
were attributed to him 14 years after the
event. That an oral order from his posi-
tion high in the rigging could be heard on
deck through the din of battle is doubtful.
What is certain is that by order, gesture,
or in some form, the spirit of that com-
mand was transmitted, and the Hartford
lay a course straight for the minefield.
A less heroic and probably more accu-
rate account was presented by Lieutenant
Kinney of the 13th Connecticut Infantry,
who at that moment was serving in one of
Hartford’s tops. He was one of a detach-
ment of army signalmen distributed among
the fleet in order to facilitate cooperation
with Granger’s land forces. He declared
that, “as a matter of fact, there was nevera moment when the din of battle would not
have drowned out any attempt at conver-
sation between the two ships, and while it
is quite probable that the Admiral made the
remark, it is doubtful if he shouted it to the
Brooklyn.” Be that as it may, the admiral’s
action suited the words. The battle now
witnessed the remarkable sight of the Hart-
fordand her lashed consort, Metacomet,
leading the column of ships directly across
the minefield.
Among the papers found after his death,
Farragut had written in a memorandum,
“Allowing the Brooklynto go ahead was a
great error. It lost not only the Tecumseh,
but many valuable lives, by keeping us under
the guns of the fort for thirty minutes.”
Rushing westward of Brooklynwas a
bold and courageous decision to make, but
it paid off handsomely, because no ship in
his formation struck a mine, or at least none
exploded. “Some of us,” one sailor said,
“expected every moment to feel the shock
of an explosion ... and to find ourselves in
the water.” Mines could be heard bumping
against the ships’ copper bottoms, and sev-
eral times the snapping of primers could be
heard. But as Farragut had surmised, these
particular mines had been so long under
water that they were not effective.
By his firm and quick decision the
momentum of running past the fort was
not lost. From the moment of Hartford’s
turn, her starboard battery, followed by
those of Brooklynand the ships behind,
spat a torrent of flame, smoke, and flying
iron at Fort Morgan, again driving the
gunners to their bombproofs. The fleet
poured in 491 projectiles but inflicted lit-
tle damage—the elevation of the Yankee
guns had been too high. At this moment,
the Union ironclads which, in obedience
to orders, had delayed before the fort,
occupying its guns until the fleet had
passed, drew near the rear wooden ships
and opened up on Tennessee.
Having entered the lower bay, Hartford
now appeared before the Tennessee, which
steered to ram her, meanwhile firing shells
at her that killed 10 men and wounded
five. Yet, the slowness of the Confederate
ironclad and the mobility of the sloopCWQ-EW16 Mobile Bay_Layout 1 10/22/15 1:09 PM Page 64