Chapter D: G. F.” (2)

“Some hours’ travelling in the swamp served to bring me out well
below the town, when I sent a negro in to gain information, and found
that the ram was truly sunk. Proceeding to another swamp I came to a
creek, and captured a skiff belonging to a picket of the enemy, and
with this, by eleven o’clock the next night, had made my way out to
the ‘Valley City.’

“Acting Master’s Mate William L. Howarth, of the ‘Monticello,’
showed, as usual, conspicuous bravery. He is the same officer who
has been with me twice in Wilmington harbor. I trust he may be
promoted when exchanged, as well as Acting Third Assistant Engineer
Stotesbury, who, being for the first time under fire, handled his
engine promptly and with coolness.

“All the officers and men behaved in the most gallant manner. I will
furnish their names to the Department as soon as they can be procured.

“The cutter of the Shamrock boarded the Southfield, but found no gun.
Four prisoners were taken there. The ram is now completely submerged,
and the enemy have sunk three schooners in the river, to obstruct the
passage of our ships. I desire to call the attention of the Admiral
and Department to the spirit manifested by the sailors on the ships
in these Sounds. But few men were wanted, but all hands were eager
to go into action, many offering their chosen shipmates a month’s
pay to resign in their favor. I am, sir, very respectfully, your
obedient servant,

W. B. CUSHING,
_Lieutenant, U. S. N._”

“Rear-Admiral D. D. PORTER,

“_Commanding N. A. Squadron_.

“The name of the man who escaped is William Hoftman, seaman on the
‘Chicopee.’ He did his duty well and deserves a medal of honor.

“Respectfully,

W. B. CUSHING, U. S. N.”

Cushing, for this daring piece of service, was himself advanced to the rank of Lieutenant-Commander.

Such men are never mere imitators, and his unvarying success in whatever he undertook was due to his clever planning and admirable execution. Attempts by those of inferior qualities in such respects would end in their capture or death.

Admiral Ammen goes on to say, in summing up the character of Cushing, “that, notwithstanding his extraordinary qualities, he perhaps lacked that attention to the practical and laborious details of his profession without which no officer can attain eminence or usefulness, even, in the higher grades. His ability to comprehend was undoubtedly of a high order, but possibly a deficient training when a mere youth left him apparently averse to acquiring the practical details of his profession.

“The fact is, that Cushing had such pre-eminent qualities, that those who appreciated him felt a certain chagrin or disappointment that he did not seem to possess those ordinary qualities through which he could acquire the knowledge necessary to extraordinary success as the leader of large forces.

“Cushing’s life in war was active and heroic in the extreme; in peace he seemed to suffer, as it were, from inanity, or more properly speaking, from the apparent lack or absence of a strong purpose.

“After the close of the war he was for some two years Executive Officer of the ‘Lancaster,’ a position which required close attention and study, to fulfill its duties in the best manner.

“Afterwards he served three years in command of the ‘Maumee,’ on the Asiatic station. He was promoted, in the regular order of vacancies, to Commander, January 31, 1872, and soon after was ordered to the command of the ‘Wyoming,’ on the home station, and was relieved at the end of a year, the vessel being put out of commission.

“In the spring of 1874 he was ordered to the Washington Navy Yard, and the following August was detached, at his request. He then seemed in impaired health, and expressed a desire to go South; after the lapse of a few days he showed signs of insanity, and was removed to the Government Hospital, where he died, December 17, 1874, at the age of thirty-two years and thirteen days.

“His becoming insane was a great regret and surprise to his many friends and admirers, in and out of the naval service; it was, however, a consolation for them to know that it was not the result of bad habits or of causes within his control. His misfortune, and that of the naval service to which he belonged, was seemingly a lack of rigid, early training, necessary to healthful thought in ordinary times, and to a continued development of those points in naval education which are so useful in peace, and so essential to success in the higher grades, whatever nature may have done to fit the man for action.

“There are few Cushings in the histories of navies; they can have no successful imitators; they pass away, as it were, before they reach their destined goal, regretted and admired.”

FORT FISHER. DECEMBER, 1864, JANUARY, 1865.

After the fall of the forts at Mobile, Wilmington alone remained a port where blockade-runners could enter and escape again, with their return cargoes. Having two entrances, one north of Cape Fear, at New Inlet, shoal and tortuous, and commanded by the extensive fortifications on Federal Point, called Fort Fisher, and the other the main channel of the Cape Fear River, and these two entrances requiring about sixty miles of blockade, it was almost impossible to prevent swift vessels from running in with important supplies for the Confederate Army, and from getting to sea again, with cotton.

Sherman was now preparing for his march to the sea, which, if successful, would insure the fall of Charleston and Savannah, without further effort from the Navy.

Grant was beleaguering Lee, at Petersburg and Richmond, and the latter was dependent upon Wilmington for many indispensable articles brought into that port, for his army, by the English blockade-runners. Many of these had been captured or destroyed, but the temptation was great to try again, and greedy and desperate men, with fast steamers, took their lives in their hands, and by audacity and good seamanship, favored by a dark night, often succeeded.

It was certain that the principal Confederate Army remaining could not long be kept in the field if important articles not produced in the Confederacy could not be continuously imported from England. Indeed, after the capture of Fort Fisher, a telegram from Lee was found there, which declared that he could not hold Richmond if Fort Fisher should be captured.

While Grant, therefore, was ready to follow Lee, either north or south, and Sherman was about making his bold manœuvre, and the captured harbors were closely held, and the lesser ports and coasts closely watched, it seemed more than ever necessary to capture Wilmington; and to do this, Fort Fisher must be taken.

The writer participated in both attacks upon Fort Fisher, and has contributed a paper to the _United Service Magazine_ upon the operations there; but for the sake of conciseness, will follow the official report, and the account of Boynton, adding some reminiscences.

In September, 1864, the Navy Department received assurances from the Secretary of War, that the necessary land force for the reduction of Fort Fisher and the other Wilmington forts would be supplied in due season, and preparations for the naval part of the expedition were begun at once. A very powerful naval force was assembled in Hampton Roads, and the command offered to Admiral Farragut. But the Admiral’s health had been much impaired by the anxieties, and exposures, and constant strain upon his nervous system, in consequence of his service of two years in a climate not very favorable to health. He, therefore, declined the command, to the great regret of the public, as well as the Navy Department.

The Secretary of the Navy then naturally turned to Admiral Porter, who had shown, in the very trying service on the Western rivers, great energy and skill. He accepted, with alacrity, and was at once put in command of the largest fleet which ever sailed under the American flag.

Causes into which it is now not worth while to enter delayed the expedition, as the co-operating land force was not at once forthcoming, and a bombarding force of thirty-seven vessels, and a reserve squadron of nineteen, lay in Hampton Roads, awaiting orders to proceed.

The season was almost over when fine weather might be expected, and the time was near when those storms which had given the name to Cape Fear might be expected in that locality. Before the war it was considered foolhardy to dally in that vicinity at all, and yet our blockaders staid there, night and day, winter and summer, shine or storm, for nearly four years, and even our monitors laid out gales there, at anchor, with the whole Atlantic ocean to the eastward of them.

The Secretary of the Navy became anxious at the delay in the movements of the military part of the expedition, and addressed a letter to President Lincoln, which was as follows:--

“NAVY DEPARTMENT,
October 28th, 1864.

“SIR:--You are aware that, owing to shoal water at the mouth of the
Cape Fear River, a purely naval attack cannot be undertaken against
Wilmington. Had there been water enough for our broadside ships, of
the Hartford class, the naval attacks of New Orleans, Mobile, and
Port Royal would have been repeated there. I have, as you are aware,
often pressed upon the War Department the importance of capturing
Wilmington, and urged upon the Military authorities the necessity
of undertaking a joint operation against the defences of Cape Fear
River; but until recently there never seems to have been a period
when the Department was in a condition to entertain the subject.

“Two months ago it was arranged that an attack should be made on
the 1st of October, but subsequently postponed to the 15th, and the
naval force has been ready since the 15th instant, in accordance with
that agreement. One hundred and fifty vessels of war now form the
North Atlantic Squadron. The command, first offered to Rear-Admiral
Farragut, but declined by him, has been given to Rear-Admiral Porter.

“Every other squadron has been depleted, and vessels detached
from other duty to strengthen this expedition. The vessels are
concentrated at Hampton Roads and Beaufort, where they remain, an
immense force lying idle, awaiting the movements of the army. The
detention of so many vessels from blockade and cruising duty is a
most serious injury to the public service; and if the expedition
cannot go forward for want of troops, I desire to be notified, so
that the ships may be relieved and dispersed for other service.

“The importance of closing Wilmington is so well understood by you
that I refrain from presenting any new arguments. I am aware of the
anxiety of yourself, and of the disposition of the War Department to
render all the aid in its power. The cause of the delay is not from
the want of a proper conception of the importance of the subject; but
the season for naval coast operations will soon be gone.

“General Bragg has been sent from Richmond to Wilmington, to prepare
for the attack; and the autumn weather, so favorable for such an
expedition, is fast passing away. The public expect this attack, and
the country will be distressed if it be not made. To procrastinate
much longer will be to peril its success.

“Of the obstacles which delay or prevent military co-operation
at once I cannot judge; but the delay is becoming exceedingly
embarrassing to this Department, and the importance of having the
military authorities impressed with the necessity of speedy action
has prompted this communication to you.

“I have the honor to be, etc., etc.,
THE PRESIDENT.
“_Gideon Welles_.”

At length the War Department supplied the much needed land force. General Butler was placed in command of it, and General Weitzel, an engineer officer, was sent with him.

The long delay had enabled the enemy to gain information of the object of all this preparation, and they placed additional troops within supporting distance of the forts.

Fort Fisher is situated on a neck of land between the ocean and the Cape Fear River, called Federal Point. The plan was to land the troops some distance above the fort, and intrench across the Point to Cape Fear River, so as to prevent reinforcements being sent from Wilmington, and then to attack both by land and water.

The fort and its connected batteries mounted about seventy-five guns, while the armament of all the works erected for the purpose of guarding the approaches to Wilmington was about one hundred and sixty guns, many of them of the largest calibre then used in forts. Among them were some 150-pounder Armstrongs. Admiral Porter, who had been at Sebastopol, says, in an official report, “that Fort Fisher was much stronger than the famous Malakoff.”

A novel idea was to be carried out in this attack, which was popularly attributed to General Butler.

A vessel with a very large quantity of powder on board was arranged as a huge torpedo, to be carried in as close as possible to the fort, and then exploded. It was supposed that it would level the walls, explode the magazine, and kill or stun the garrison.

The explosion produced no result of importance, as we shall see hereafter.

The attack was decided upon for the 24th of December, although General Butler had not arrived with his troops. The larger vessels of the fleet and the ironclads had anchored twenty miles east of New Inlet, literally at sea, and in a position where it would have been thought foolhardy, in peace times, to have remained at that season. Here they rode out some heavy weather, the monitors, at times, being completely submerged by the huge seas, with only the tops of the smoke-stacks and turrets visible.

The powder boat was a purchased gun-boat, called the Louisiana. She had about two hundred tons of powder on board, and was commanded by Commander A. C. Rhind. The vessel was painted lead color, and she had a false smoke-stack erected abaft the real one, and in general appearance and color resembled the ordinary blockade-runners. She was sent in on the night of the 23d, or rather, at two o’clock on the morning of the 24th. So little was the explosion considered an act of war by the garrison that they supposed it a blockade-runner which had been chased ashore and blown up, to prevent her from falling into the blockaders’ hands.

The attacking fleet carried nearly five hundred guns. Among these were some of the largest guns then in use. The three monitors mounted 15-inch guns; the battery of the New Ironsides was of 11-inch guns; there were many 11-inch guns, and 100- and 150-pounder Parrott rifles on board the smaller vessels while the heavy frigates, Minnesota, Wabash and Colorado, mounted each forty 9-inch guns. No such armament had ever been brought to bear upon a fort; and probably no fort was better able to resist it, for it was an immense bank of earth, with the guns far apart, and huge traverses of earth built up between them. This arrangement had a double advantage; for it was more difficult to reduce the work than if the guns had been contained in a smaller space, while their fire, thus distributed, was more effective against ships.

But, extensive and formidable as these great earthworks were, they were overmatched by the guns afloat. No men could stand to guns, and no guns could long continue serviceable, under such a storm of shot and shell as was poured upon them.

On the 24th of December, early in the morning, the ships stood in, the grim and ponderous Ironsides leading the way, followed by the monitors. They took position about three-quarters of a mile from the fort, opening fire as soon as in station. Then came the great frigates, sloops and gun-boats, and all opened a most rapid and terrible fire.

In about an hour the fort was silenced, the garrison being driven to cover. There were one or two explosions of magazines, and some buildings were set on fire. Unfortunately, during this day no less than six of the 100-pounder rifles burst, killing and wounding more men than the guns of the enemy, and destroying confidence in these pieces, which had hitherto done good work, and had been rather favorites. The ships sustained very little damage.

On the next day, Christmas, the transports arrived with the troops, and the latter were landed about five miles above the fort, under cover of the gun-boats, while the ironclads and other vessels renewed their fire upon the fort, but more deliberately than the day before. General Weitzel reconnoitred the fort, and some soldiers actually entered a part of it, but the General reported a successful assault impracticable, and the troops were re-embarked. The Navy was naturally indignant at this, but there was no help for it. The commentary upon the opinion of the Engineer is that the fort _was_ taken by assault, a fortnight afterwards.

On December 29th, the Secretary of the Navy, after consultation with the President, sent a telegram to General Grant, at Petersburg, stating his belief that the works could be taken by a suitable land force, to co-operate with the Navy, and asking for the necessary troops. General Grant sent about eight thousand men, under General Terry, and they reached the neighborhood of Fort Fisher on January 13th.

In the meantime the fleet had ridden out some very bad weather and one severe southeast gale, most of the large vessels lying in the bight under Cape Lookout.

On January 12th the fleet, with the transports with troops in close company, sailed again for New Inlet, all being in fair fighting condition, and not damaged or dispersed by the gale, as the enemy had hoped.

On the 13th the fleet was pounding away at the earthworks again, the Ironsides being within one thousand yards of the northeast angle, and the monitors much closer, as they drew less water. The wind was off shore, and light, and the water smooth, or they could not have gone in so close, there being but a few inches of water under the keels of the ironclads. The fire was continued all that day, and at intervals during the night.

The fire of the ironclads was directed, during the whole of the second bombardment, at the land face of the main fort, where the assault by the troops was to be made; and although they were nearly concealed by the high traverses, which made an angle with the line of fire, it was seen that many guns were struck and disabled, but the full extent of the damage was not known till after the surrender. Then it was found that every gun on that face of the fort had been disabled, principally by the heavy shot and shell of the ironclads, which lay so near the fort, and fired deliberately, and in perfect security.

It was the northeastern face which was to be assaulted by the troops of General Terry. The sea front had been under the fire of the wooden ships, which had to lie further off, and their fire was less effective, and the face less injured. It was decided to assault this face with the sailors and marines of the fleet. There were seventeen guns on the land face, with immense hills for traverses, extending a third of a mile. The other face, that to be assaulted by the sailors and marines, was about one mile in length, terminating on the right flank in a mound fifty-three feet high, mounted with two very heavy guns.

The arrangement of guns and traverses was such that, in an assault, each would have to be taken separately.

On the morning of the 15th the ships went once more into position, and fired rapidly. The soldiers and sailors made arrangements for the assault; throwing up breastworks and rifle-pits towards the fort. From 11 A. M. to about half-past two, a tremendous fire was kept up, and the heavy embankments crumbled under the shot and shell, while more guns were disabled.

Still, the garrison, of about 2300 men, lay sheltered in their bomb-proofs, ready to come out and repel the assault as soon as the fire of the fleet should cease.

At half-past two the naval column was ready to advance, and the fire from the fleet, at a given signal, suddenly ceased, the quiet seeming quite unnatural after the continuous roar of artillery.

The naval column then moved along the beach, to assault the sea-face of the main work. This was defended by palisades, as was the land face, and was about forty feet high, and very steep--difficult for an armed man to climb.

As the fire from the fleet ceased, the garrison came out of the bomb-proofs, and, manning the parapet of the sea-face, began to shoot down the assaulting sailors and marines. Loaded pieces were handed up to those on the parapet, so the fire was very rapid. The beach was soon strewn with dead and wounded, many staggering into the water and falling there.

A few of the men, with many of the officers, reached the foot of the mound, but they could get no further, and the bulk of the naval force retreated down the beach again, entirely exposed, and losing heavily from the deliberate musketry fire of the garrison. Those who had reached a place of partial shelter, about the foot of the mound, were obliged to remain there until approaching darkness and hard fighting on the other face gave them an opportunity to get away. The loss in this attempted assault was very heavy, twenty-one officers of the navy having been killed or wounded, with a proportionate number of sailors and marines.

The lives lost were not utterly thrown away, however, for the naval attack made a diversion, distracting attention from the movements of the troops.

Soon after the naval advance, and about the time that it was evident that it had failed, the veteran troops from the James River assaulted, with the determination, steadiness and dash which they had learned at Petersburg, Cold Harbor, Spottsylvania, and a dozen other scenes of hard fighting. The guns on the land face were all disabled, but there was a howitzer fire from a sally-port, which did much damage, although it did not stay the advance of those well-dressed lines an instant. Reaching the foot of the lofty earthworks, the pioneers’ axes soon cleared away the palisade, and the troops entered the two western traverses. An entirely novel and fierce combat now took place, as each mound was captured in turn.

For more than five hours this hand-to-hand struggle, a fight to the death, went on in those traverses. There was nothing exactly like it during the whole war. The Ironsides fired into the traverses ahead of our troops until this was rendered, by the darkness, as dangerous to friend as foe. Night came, and still the struggle went on. Shouts and yells, shrieks and groans, musket-shot and clash of bayonet, with the flash of small arms, marked the centre of the fight. Thus traverse after traverse was won, until about ten o’clock at night the last one, at the mound, was taken; then was heard a tremendous peal of cheers, and the garrison poured, pell-mell, down to Federal Point. Here they laid down their arms and surrendered. The fact was at once telegraphed to the fleet, by signal lanterns, and round after round of hearty cheers went up from every ship.

The “impregnable” Fort Fisher was taken. The Cape Fear River, the great port of the blockade runners, was closed, and the Confederacy at last completely isolated.

The next morning the light-draught vessels at once began to work in over the New Inlet Bar, and for some days they were busy in capturing forts, and in sweeping the Channel for torpedoes, and removing obstructions.

About seven o’clock in the morning there was a tremendous explosion within the Fort, which threw masses of earth and timber, and bodies of men, high into the air; while a dense balloon-shaped cloud of powder smoke and dust hung in the air for a long time.

It was the main magazine which had blown up. It was never known how it happened. Many officers and seamen of the fleet, as well as soldiers, lost their lives by this explosion.

Upon landing from the men-of-war, to see what this celebrated place might be like, we met, in the first place, boats conveying the wounded of the Navy to the Hospital ship, while upon the beach parties were collecting for burial those who had been killed, and ranging them in rows. This beach, as well as the whole of the land front of the fort, was strewn with an immense number of fragments of shell, muskets, musket-balls, bayonets, cartridge boxes and belts, articles of clothing and dead bodies.

As we approached the land face, we began to find the bodies of soldiers, instead of those of sailors, lying in the strangest attitudes, just as they happened to be when the death bullet struck them. The faces of some still showed the deadly purpose of battle, while others were as peaceful as if they had died in their beds. Many of these bodies had rolled down the steep earthwork after being shot, and were lying against the palisades, covered with dust and powder grime. Upon gaining a point of view from one of the traverses, one was struck by the great extent of the fort. Before us lay the huge smoking crater caused by the morning’s explosion, while fatigue parties of soldiers were engaged in collecting the wounded and the dead, and in piling up, in great stacks, the small arms of the captured garrison, as well as those of our own dead and wounded. Peeping into the bomb-proofs, which were full of dead, and filthy beyond description, from long occupation during the bombardment, the next sight was the guns. These were, many of them, not only dismounted, but partially buried in the earth and sand, by the terrible explosions of the eleven- and fifteen-inch shells. In many cases the gun’s crew were buried with them, as an occasional hand or foot, peeping out, testified.

At the northeastern angle of the fort, in two huge embrasures, were two very heavy guns, a 68-pounder, and an 8-inch Blakeley rifle, both of English make. These two guns had fired principally at the ironclads, and the latter had returned the compliment. Our fire often caused the gunners to leave them, but they generally returned at the first slacking of the fire. Just before the assault, one of them had the carriage disabled, and it was now slewed round with its muzzle to the westward.

At Battery No. 4 was found an Armstrong 150-pounder, marked with the “broad arrow,” and mounted on an elegantly made and polished carriage, with Sir Wm. Armstrong’s name on the trunnion of the gun, in full. This piece was said to have been presented to the Confederacy by some English admirers. But Armstrong guns, of less calibre, were found in all the fortifications about Cape Fear.

These latter works were evacuated by the Confederates in great consternation and hurry; in some instances they only spiked very fine guns.

Fort Anderson, on the right bank, held our flotilla for some time. Just abreast of it were two lines of torpedoes, both floating and sunken, and this fort was not evacuated until after a heavy bombardment of thirteen hours, and an expenditure of about five thousand shell.

It was very natural for the Confederates to suppose that Fort Fisher would come off victoriously from the second attack, as she was much better garrisoned and armed, and prepared in every way, than at the time of the first attack, in December.

The success in the second attack was considered to be due to the change in the commanding officers; the troops who carried the muskets were the same.

All the forts in the river were of the most approved and careful construction, and they contained, in all, about 170 heavy guns; while lines of piles, and torpedoes to be fired by electricity, filled the approaches to them.

It was remarked by an officer high in authority, that the engineers who built such works, at the expense of so much time and labor, must have had an abiding faith in the Confederacy. Fort Fisher was nearly four years in course of construction.

After the capture of the forts the armed cruiser Chickamauga, which had already created such havoc among our coasters, and which was ready for sea again, and watching an opportunity to slip out, was run high up the river, and, in a small creek, destroyed by her own crew.

Even in the most eventful and tragical occurrences there are some humorous sides.

After the capture some fine blockade-running steamers came into Smithville, quite ignorant of the change in affairs, as they always arrived “in the dark of the moon.” Lights were shown from the regular stations, to guide them in, and when they anchored they were quietly taken possession of.

They were generally from Bermuda, and loaded with arms, blankets, shoes and medicines for the Confederate army. On board one of them were found some English army officers, who had come over from Bermuda on a “lark,” and to try what blockade-running was like. When the vessel was boarded these gentry were found at supper, with champagne opened, to toast their successful run and their escape from serious damage from some shot which had struck the vessel as she was passing the outside blockaders. Their disgust may be imagined at being shipped to New York, in confinement, and thence back to Bermuda, by the first opportunity.

DEEDS OF VALOR ON THE SEAS.

BY CAPTAIN H. D. SMITH, U. S. R. S., AND OTHERS.

_Captain Silas Talbot, the Soldier-Sailor._

At one period of our naval history none connected with it enjoyed a higher reputation for patriotic and headlong valor than Captain Silas Talbot, one of the earliest commanders of that renowned frigate Old Ironsides.

He came naturally by his adventurous disposition and high standard of courage. He was a lineal descendant of that Richard de Talbot who witnessed the grant that Walter Gifford, Earl of Buckingham, made to the monks of Cerasir, in the reign of William the Conqueror. The earldom of Shrewsbury was bestowed, in the fifteenth century, upon John Talbot for his skill and prowess in war. It is remarkable that one of his ancestors was the antagonist of the Maid of Orleans, and another had the custody of Mary Queen of Scots.

Silas Talbot was left an orphan at 12 years of age, at the town of Dighton, and went to sea as a cabin boy. He also learned the trade of a stonemason, acquired property, and married at the age of 21. The first notes of the Revolution found Talbot with his companions drilling under the guidance of an old Scotch drum-major. Finding an opportunity to join the American camp near Boston, he accompanied the army to New York, when his knowledge of nautical matters obtained for him the command of a fireship. Three of the enemy’s ships were anchored near the mouth of the Hudson, the largest being the Asia, of sixty-four guns.

Singling this vessel out as the object of his attack, Talbot, at 2 o’clock in the morning, dropped down with the tide, and threw his grappling irons on board as the Asia opened fire. In an instant the flames of the fire-ship were leaping above the lower yards of the huge vessel, and Talbot, who had lingered on board until the last moment, suffered terribly from the injuries received. His skin was blistered from head to foot, his dress almost entirely destroyed, and his eyesight for the time destroyed. His companions succeeded in carrying him clear in a fast-pulling boat, finding shelter in a poor cabin, where medical aid was at last procured for the sufferer. Meanwhile the Asia, by strenuous efforts, had cleared herself from the blazing craft, and, badly injured, had dropped down the river.

For this service, Congress, on October 10, 1777, passed a resolution of thanks, promoting him to the rank of Major, and recommending him to Gen. Washington for “employment agreeable to his rank,” and he shortly after found an opportunity to gain further distinction and a severe wound in the hip, in an attack on the enemy. Under Gen. Sullivan he gathered eighty-six flatboats for transportation of the army on Long Island, which was instrumental in preventing disaster when a retreat was ordered.

The English, while in possession of Newport, moored a stout vessel off the mouth of the Seconset River, providing her with twelve 8-pounders and ten swivels. Strong boarding nettings were attached, while a crew of forty-five men under Lieut. Dunlap, of the Royal Navy, commanded the craft, which had been named the Pigot.

Upon this vessel Maj. Talbot had his eye for some time, but could obtain no suitable means of getting a party afloat. He finally gained possession of a sloop, equipped her with two 3-pounders, manned by sixty men. On a dark and foggy night Talbot embarked with his men, allowing the old sloop to drift under bare poles, until the loom of the great boat was seen through the fog. Down swept the coasting sloop; the sentinels hailed, but before one of the Pigot’s guns could be used the jibboom of the opposing craft had torn its way through the boarding nettings, affording an opportunity for the attacking party to board, sword in hand. The vessel was quickly carried, the commander fighting desperately, en dishabille, and when compelled to surrender wept over his miserable disgrace. Not a man had been lost in this affair, and the prize was carried safely into Stonington.

For this exploit Talbot received a handsome letter from Henry Laurens, President of Congress, and was promoted to a Lieutenant-Colonelcy in the army. The Assembly of his native State presented him with a sword, while the British termed him, “One of the greatest arch-rebels in nature.”

In 1779 he was commissioned a Captain in the navy, but with no national vessel for him to command. He was instructed to arm a naval force sufficient to protect the coast from Long Island to Nantucket. Congress was too poor to assist him, and only by great efforts was he able to fit out the prize Pigot and a sloop called the Argo. Humble as this craft was, Talbot assumed command without a moment’s hesitation and proved what a man of valor and determination could achieve with meagre means. The sloop was an old-fashioned craft from Albany, square, wide stern, bluff bow, and steered with a tiller. Her battery consisted of ten and afterward twelve guns, two of which were mounted in the cabin. With a crew of sixty, few of whom were seamen or had seen service, the gallant Captain sailed from Providence on a cruise in May, 1779.

Exercising and drilling his men, he soon had them in fair shape, enabling him to capture one vessel of twelve guns and two letter-of-marque brigs from the West Indies. The prizes, with their cargoes, were greatly needed by the authorities, while the successes attending the efforts of the men greatly increased their confidence.

There was a Tory privateer of fourteen guns called the King George, commanded by a Capt. Hazard, manned by eighty men, whose depredations along the coast had made the craft a terror to the inhabitants. For a meeting with this craft Capt. Talbot ardently longed, but was baffled for quite a while. But fortune one clear day smiled upon the Continental craft, the lookout espying the King George about 100 miles off shore from Long Island. The Argo ran the enemy aboard, clearing her deck with one raking broadside, driving her crew below hatches, and capturing the privateer without the loss of a man.

Shortly after the sloop met a large armed West Indiaman, who fought desperately for over four hours. Talbot had the skirts of his coat shot away, losing a number of men by the well-directed fire of the enemy, and only succeeded in making his antagonist strike when his main-mast went by the board.

The career of the sloop was brought to an abrupt termination by the owners’ demanding her return, but not before Capt. Talbot had secured six good prizes and 300 prisoners.

Capt. Talbot was now informed by Congress that “the government had every desire to give him a respectable command, but absolutely lacked the means to do it.” Succeeding to the command of a private armed ship, Talbot made but one prize, when he found himself one morning in the midst of a large fleet of English men-of-war. Resistance was impossible, and as a prisoner the Captain was transferred to the notorious Jersey prison ship, from which he was in time removed to the jail in New York, ruled by the cruel and infamous Cunningham.

In November, 1780, in company with seventy other prisoners, they were marched to the ship Yarmouth, driven into the hold, destitute of clothing and bedding, making the passage to England amid such suffering and misery that beggars description. Talbot seemed to bear a charmed life, passing unscathed through the horrors and death about him, and was finally placed in the Dartmoor prison, out of which he made a daring attempt to escape, and was confined in a dungeon forty days as punishment. On three occasions he incurred the same penalty for similar attempts, meeting his disappointments and hardships with characteristic fortitude and courage.

Talbot gained his liberty through exchange for a British officer in France, finding himself destitute and half-naked in a foreign land. He landed at Cherbourg in December, 1781, after having been a prisoner for fifteen months. At Paris Capt. Talbot was assisted by Franklin and sailed for home in a brig, but fifteen days only after leaving port she was captured by the Jupiter, an English privateer. But Talbot was treated with kindness and courtesy by the captain, who transferred him to a brig they encountered on her way from Lisbon to New York.

He now retired to a farm, where he remained with his family until 1794. He had served his country faithfully, both on land and water, bearing on his person more or less of British lead, which he carried to his grave. He had been specially mentioned by Congress on several occasions, and occupied a high place in the estimation of Washington and the principal officers of the Continental army. But with the dawn of peace he was allowed to remain in his place of retirement without further acknowledgment from the government he had served so well.

In 1794, when Congress enacted a law to enlarge the naval force in order to check the depredations of the Algerians, among the six experienced officers selected to command the frigates was Capt. Talbot.

After hostilities with France had commenced, one of the squadrons in the West Indies was placed under his command, and he flew a broad pennant on board Old Ironsides in 1799, on the St. Domingo station. Isaac Hull, as First Lieutenant, was Captain of the frigate, and other officers served under Talbot’s command who afterward became famous on the rolls of fame.

It was while Old Ironsides had Talbot for a commander that she captured her first prize. This vessel had been the British packet Sandwich, and only waited to complete a cargo of coffee to make a run for France. Capt. Talbot resolved to cut her out, and a force of seamen and marines were placed on board an American sloop and the command given to the gallant Hull. The Sandwich was lying with her broadside bearing on the channel, with a battery to protect her. But so well was the movements of the sloop conducted that the Sandwich was carried without the loss of a man. At the same time Capt. Cormick landed with the marines and spiked the guns of the battery.

(Destruction of the Confederate Ram Arkansas.)]

The Sandwich was stripped to a girtline, with all the gear stowed below; but before sunset she had royal yards across, her guns sealed, and the prize crew mustered at the guns. Soon after she was under way, beat out of the harbor and joined the frigate. Hull gained great credit for the skill with which he had carried out the object of the expedition, and at the time the affair made quite a sensation among the various cruisers on the West India station.

Talbot was jealous of his rank and the dignity attached to his station in the service. His courage, ability, and devotion to his country were all beyond question. A question arose relative to the seniority of rank between himself and Commodore Truxton, in which the Secretary of the Navy gave the preference to Truxton.

This led the old veteran to tender his resignation and enjoy the fairly earned repose of honorable age. President John Adams wrote to Talbot requesting him to remain in the service, but the old sailor replied, “Neither my honor nor reputation would permit me to be commanded by Capt. Truxton, because he was, in fact, a junior officer.”

Commodore Talbot, in withdrawing from the service, took with him his two sons, who were following in their father’s footsteps, and, purchasing land for them in Kentucky, alternated between New York and the home established by his sons.

He was thirteen times wounded and carried five bullets in his body. In his intercourse with others, his hospitality and social duties, he carried himself with rare dignity and grace, and was one of the finest specimens of a self-made American officer the country produced. He died in the city of New York on June 30, 1813, and was buried under Trinity Church.

His name and deeds of valor are enrolled among the proudest of patriot heroes of the country.

THE WHALEBOATMEN OF THE REVOLUTION AND THEIR HEROIC ACHIEVEMENTS.

The Revolutionary War gave birth to a valorous and dashing class of men who operated along Long Island Sound, the shores of Long Island, and the Jersey coast, from New York Bay to Tom’s River, and other inlets and harbors. There were many of them, and they were an astonishing set of men. Some had small sloops mounting two small cannon, but the most effective work was accomplished in whaleboats. It is singular that naval history and works treating on naval subjects have failed to record or give the proper place in history to the brave and dashing deeds achieved by the whaleboat navy of the Revolution. They made themselves feared and hated by their foes, and the British vessels that these men captured seem beyond belief, were not the records of their work very clear and extensive. They took vessels with valuable cargoes, burning or blowing up whatever prizes they could not easily bring to port.

George Raymond, the acting sailing-master of the Bon-Homme Richard, commanded by the celebrated Paul Jones, resided at Brooklyn, Long Island, and was instrumental in fitting out a number of whaleboat expeditions. He had made two voyages to India previous to entering the service under Jones, a very rare occurrence for an American in those early days.

The whaleboat fleet belonging to Connecticut was specially well organized, manned, and effective. From their numerous haunts and hiding-places they would sally forth, closing with their antagonists so suddenly and furiously as to overcome all opposition, frequently carrying armed ships, making up in noise and audacity what they lacked in arms and numbers. Long Island Sound became very unsafe to British parties and Tories and they seldom ventured any great distance upon its waters, except they had protection from armed vessels. At one time, so bold and daring had the whaleboatmen become, that a frigate, a sloop of war, a corvette, and a ten-gun brig were ordered to patrol the sound and exterminate the privateersmen, placing them beyond the pale of quarter for the time being. But these measures, beyond involving additional expense to the crown, availed nothing. The whaleboatmen carried their lives in their hands, but each and all were picked men, and with a knowledge that they fought with a halter around their necks, none but men of tried valor and courage joined the ranks, while the leaders excelled in fertile resources, daring conceptions in the mode of attack, combining with all a perfect knowledge of the scene of operations.

Two of the most prominent, dashing, and successful leaders in this mosquito fleet were Capts. Mariner and Hyler. Their adventures and exploits, both in and out of their trim, lithe whaleboats, read more like romance than sober facts, and their gallant deeds are still treasured up and handed down by many a family dwelling along the shores of Long Island Sound.

It was midsummer when the following exploit was achieved, and in the full light of the moon sailing through a cloudless sky:

Capt. Mariner had for a long time contemplated a raid upon Flatbush, the resort or headquarters of a number of violent Tories, particularly obnoxious to the American officers. Gen. Washington was particularly anxious to obtain possession of the person of Cols. Axtell and Mathews, who were both active and influential loyalists, partisans of the most pronounced stripe. By some means Mariner became acquainted with the wish of Washington, and, although no communication passed between the distinguished commander-in-chief and the humble seaman, the whaleboat leader resolved to reconnoitre the locality.

Disguised in the uniform of an independent loyalist rifle company, Mariner proceeded to the tavern of Dr. Van Buren, a resort for all the prominent surrounding gentry. Entering the tap-room, which was crowded, discussions relative to the war and prominent individuals were running high and waxing exceedingly hot, as well as decidedly personal, as the disguised seamen mixed with the company. With ready wit and sarcastic tongue, the “rifleman” joined in the argument, while a Maj. Sherbook, of the British army, berated Capt. Mariner as no better than a murderer, an outlaw, and a thief. Mariner’s eyes sparkled, his hands twitching nervously as he listened to the tirade of abuse poured forth in relation to himself.

“Confound this prowling, sneaking midnight vagabond, with his ragamuffin crew,” angrily continued the Major, as he snapped a speck of froth that had dropped from his tankard upon his laced and scarlet coat sleeve; “he has developed into an intolerable nuisance in these parts, and should be checked at once. I would thrash him and his followers, single handed, with my riding whip, if ever opportunity offered. But these water-rats come and go in such a cowardly fashion that soldiers can scarcely hope to more than catch a glimpse of their flaunting rags.”

“Don’t be too sure, my dear Major, in your estimate of the water-sneaks, as you are pleased to term them. You may have a nearer glimpse of their rags and steel also than you could wish, with an opportunity to make good your threat to chastise the leader and his crew, sooner than you now dream of,” and before the surprised assemblage had recovered from their consternation and the “influence,” he had disappeared through the doorway into the darkness of the night.

Repairing at once to New Brunswick, Mariner prepared his fast light-pulling whaleboat for the trip. The crew were summoned, armed to the teeth, and when all was in readiness the long, shapely boat glided swiftly and silently to New Utrecht, where the party formed in single file on the beach at Bath, a few minutes after ten o’clock at night. Two men were detailed to watch the boat, while the remainder of the party proceeded rapidly to Flatbush Church. In the shadows of overhanging trees the men were divided into four squads, the houses they were to attack pointed out to them, each party being provided with a battering ram capable of breaking in the heaviest door at a blow. Silently and steadily the parties proceeded to their several scenes of action, Mariner having reserved the residence of the British Major as his special mission.

The signal for united and concerted action was the ringing report of a pistol. The battering ram was then to be used, prisoners secured and conveyed to the whaleboat. The attack was simultaneous in various portions of the town. Mariner, sword in hand, searched in vain for the doughty Major, but finally, when he was discovered, the shadows of a large chimney had been used as a refuge from the dreaded onslaught of the whaleboatmen. He was allowed to make up a bundle of necessaries and hurried to the boat. The parties were there--having met with more or less success--but the principal game, the officials Washington so much desired to secure, were not among the number. Business had unexpectedly summoned them to New York the day before or their capture would have been effected. After the war Capt. Mariner resided many years at Harlem and on Ward’s Island. He was classed as a strange and eccentric man, full of wit and an inexhaustible fund of anecdotes, but was not especially popular among his associates and neighbors.

One of the favorite cruising haunts of Capt. Hyler was between Egg Harbor and Staten Island. He was a man of wonderful nerve, with great power of endurance, fertile in resources, and prompt to act in situations requiring instant action.

Mention has been made of the British fleet sent to patrol the waters of the sound. The corvette, mounting twenty guns, anchored one foggy evening almost abreast of Hyler’s headquarters, a short distance from Egg Harbor. The tap of the drum and words of command from the officer of the deck could be distinctly heard on shore. Incredible as it may appear, Capt. Hyler determined to attempt the capture of the formidable cruiser. He had ascertained that the vessel was short-handed, having dropped from her station above with the intention of making an early departure for Halifax. The available force of the intrepid whaleboat commander consisted of forty-six well-armed and resolute men, expert at the oar, trained to silence and dexterity, so as not to be heard at close quarters, even with three or four boats pulling in company. Well had they been named “marine devils” by their red-coated foes.

The whaleboat’s men were divided into two parties, Hyler taking one, his Lieutenant the other. Two swift boats were soon pulling up stream, with oars muffled, keeping well in the shadows of the rugged shore. The night was intensely dark, rendering so small an object as a boat close to the surface of the water impossible to be detected by the sharpest-eyed sentry and lookout. Once in the full influence of the tide, a grapnel was thrown overboard, to which was attached a long, stout line. All hands disappeared beneath the thwarts, and but two heads were visible, the leader in the stern sheets and the bow oarsman, who veered away the line. Like a shadow, the whaleboat in charge of the Lieutenant hovered alongside the corvette, while the officer, his head on a level with the muzzle of the guns, swung himself into the forechannels to reconnoitre. The anchor watch had gathered forward, the officer of the deck was leaning idly over the cabin companionway, intent upon what was passing below, while the marine in the after gangway nodded at his post. Dropping cautiously on deck the daring whaleboatman glanced hastily about him. A book covered with canvas, hanging from a nail beside a spy-glass in a rack over the steps leading to the officers’ quarters, caught his vigilant eye. Gliding swiftly aft he grasped the coveted prize, regaining his boat without being perceived. He had secured the signal-book of the Royal Navy.

Dropping under the stern, the open windows revealed the officers drinking wine and engaging in a game of cards. Capt. Hyler listened to the report of his assistant, put the signal-book in a place of safety, and at once pulled for the corvette. The boats boarded on opposite sides, the whaleboatmen gaining the deck before an alarm was sounded, the officers, as well as the watch on deck, being secured without creating a general alarm. The surprise was complete. Prisoners were handcuffed and conveyed on shore, while the commander wept and wrung his hands when the flames of his vessel lit up the surrounding gloom, recognizing that his career as an officer had been forever disgraced. It was not until the vessel had blown up that the commander informed Capt. Hyler that the cabin transom had held £50,000 in gold.

One of the most daring exploits of Capt. Hyler was his visit to New York with his men disguised and equipped as a British press gang. The object was to secure the notorious renegade and Tory, Lippincott--Pete Lippincott--who had savagely butchered Capt. Huddy, a brave Continental officer. The patriots had offered a handsome reward for him, dead or alive, and Capt. Hyler resolved to seek him in his lair.