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come of the other vessels? All but the Itasca, Winona, and Kennebec turned up, one after another. These three unfortunately became disabled, and had to turn back. And thus on the morning of the 24th of April, 1862, the sun rose through the yellow Mississippi mist upon the greatest naval triumph of the century. Of a fleet of seventeen vessels, thirteen had safely passed through the concentric fire of two formidable forts-in spite of obstructions and incendiary rafts, had partially silenced the land batteries, and had destroyed thirteen of the enemy's gunboats and rams, and driven the four remaining ones to shelter. Surprising to state, our entire loss in this glorious achievement was but thirty-six killed and one hundred and thirty-five wounded.

Farragut now steamed up the river, encountering slight opposition from a battery at English Turn, and arrived off the city of New Orleans by noon on the 25th of April. On the 29th the forts surrendered to Captain Porter, and General Butler came up the river to arrange for landing his troops and possessing the conquered city.

It is impossible for us here to follow the plucky flag-officer through the very interesting details of his career during the rest of 1862 and the following year; to note his straightforward, dignified, terse correspondence, with the peppery, blatant, and long-winded petty officers of the hostile municipal governments; to describe the gallant passage of the bluff batteries at Vicksburg on the 27th of June, 1862, and the repassage on the 15th of July, in the attempt to destroy the ram Arkansas; to speak of the frequent guerrilla attacks, and the necessary destruction of their haunts; to recount the intrepid attempt of the fleet to pass the formidable batteries at Port Hudson, in which only the Admiral's ship, and her consort, the Albatross, succeeded; to detail the subsequent fights at various points on the river, and the Admiral's share in the bombardment and reduction of Port Hudson. These things, great in themselves, illustrating the indomitable pluck, the careful preparation, the "conquer or be conquered" spirit of our Admiral, are thrown in the shade by his own achievements at New Orleans, and still later at Mobile. And we have not space for all.

Indeed it seems to me that Mobile was New Orleans sublimed. For here again we have the spectacle of a fleet of wooden ships, -aided by iron-clads this time, it is true,-running the gauntlet of two powerful forts, regardless of torpedoes and obstructions, and destroying a powerful fleet, but this time the deed is done in broad daylight, under the eye of the Admiral who has had himself lashed in an elevated position in the main rigging near the top." The Admiral gave the lead this time, under pressure, to the Brooklyn, but, much after the fashion of Nelson at Trafalgar (who, after ordering the fleet to pass the flag-ship,

crowded on all sail so that obedience became impossible!) took the first chance to run by and resume his old place at the head of the fleet. The story of the historic fight with the rebel ram Tennessee, can hardly be better told than in the words of the Admiral's graphic dispatch:

"From the moment I turned to the northwestward to clear the middle ground, we were enabled to keep such a broadside fire upon the batteries of Fort Morgan that their guns did us comparatively little injury. Just after we passed the fort, which was about ten minutes before eight o'clock, the ram Tennessee dashed out at this ship, as had been expected, and in anticipation of which I had ordered the monitors on our starboard side. I took no further notice of her than to return her fire.

"The rebel gunboats Morgan, Gaines and Selma, were ahead, and the latter particularly annoyed us with a raking fire, which our guns could not return. At two minutes after eight o'clock I ordered the Metacomet to cast off and go in pursuit of the Selma. Captain Jouett was after her in a moment, and in an hour's time he had her as a prize. She was commanded by P. N. Murphy, formerly of the United States Navy. He was wounded in the wrist. His executive officer, Lieutenant Comstock, and eight of the crew were killed, and seven or eight wounded. Lieutenant-Commander Jouett's conduct during the whole affair commands my warmest commendations. Morgan and Gaines succeeded in escaping under the protection of the guns of Fort Morgan, which would have been prevented had the other gunboats been as prompt in their movements as the Metacomet. The want of pilots, however, I believe, was the principal difficulty. The Gaines was so injured by our fire that she had to be run ashore, where she was subsequently destroyed; but the Morgan escaped to Mobile during the night, though she was chased and fired upon by our cruisers.

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Having passed the forts and dispersed the enemy's gunboats, I had ordered most of the vessels to anchor, when I perceived the ram Tennessee standing up for this ship; this was at fortyfive minutes past eight. I was not long in comprehending his intentions to be the destruction of the flag-ship. The monitors and such of the wooden vessels as I thought best adapted for the purpose, were immediately ordered to attack the ram, not only with their guns but bows on at full speed. And then began one of the fiercest naval combats on record. The Monongahela, Commander Strong, was the first vessel that struck her, and in doing so carried away his own iron prow, together with the cutwater, without apparently doing his adversary much injury. The Lackawanna, Captain Marchand, was the next vessel to strike her, which she did at full speed, but though her stern was cut and crushed to the plank ends for the distance of three feet above the water's edge to five feet below, the only

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perceptible effect on the ram was to give her a heavy lift. Hartford was the third vessel which struck her, but as the Tennessee quickly shifted her helm, the blow was a harmless one, and as she rasped along our side, we poured our whole port broadside of nine-inch solid shot within ten feet of her casemate. The monitors worked slowly, but delivered their fire as opportunity offered. The Chickasaw succeeded in getting under her stern, and a fifteen-inch shot from the Manhattan broke through her iron plating and heavy wooden backing, though the missile itself did not enter the vessel.

"Immediately after the collision of the flag-ship, I directed Captain Drayton to bear down for the ram again. He was doing so at full speed, when, unfortunately, the Lackawanna ran into the Hartford just forward of the mizzen-mast, cutting her down to within two feet of the water's edge. We soon got clear again, however, and were fast approaching our adversary, when she struck her colors and ran up the white flag. She was at this time sore beset; the Chickasaw was pounding away at her stern, the Ossipee was approaching her at full speed, and the Monongahela, Lackawanna and this ship were bearing down upon her, determined upon her destruction. Her smoke-stack had been shot away, her steering chains were gone, compelling a resort to her relieving tackles, and several of the port-shutters were jammed. Indeed, from the time the Hartford struck her until her surrender, she never fired a gun. As the Ossipee, Commander Le Roy, was about to strike her, she hoisted the white flag, and that vessel immediately stopped her engine, though not in time to avoid a glancing blow. *

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"As I had an elevated position in the main rigging near the top, I was able to overlook not only the deck of the Hartford, but the other vessels of the fleet. I witnessed the terrible effects of the enemy's shot and the good conduct of the men at their guns; and although no doubt their hearts sickened, as mine did, when their shipmates were struck down beside them, yet there was not a moment's hesitation to lay their comrades aside and spring again to their deadly work."

The fight began a few minutes before seven o'clock A. M. By ten, the fleet floated in triumph in the bay of Mobile. Our losses had been heavy, including the monitor Tecumseh, sunk, with her officers and crew, by a torpedo. It is related that at the moment of the collision between the Hartford and Lackawanna, when the men called to each other to save the Admiral, Farragut, finding the ship would float at least long enough to serve his purpose, and thinking of that only, cried out to his fleet captain, "Go on with speed! Ram her again!" The anecdote ought to be true, if it is not.

The lustre which Farragut's achievements has spread upon

our arms is not confined to America. The authentic exponent of the navy of naval England,-"Russell's Army and Navy Gazette," in an article which seems to have the editor's earmarks, speaks of him as "the doughty Admiral whose feats of arms place him at the head of his profession, and certainly constitute him the first naval officer of the day as far as actual reputation, won by skill, courage, and hard fighting goes.'

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When his biography comes to be written, the public, who now see only high courage and indomitable vigor, rewarded by great and brilliant victories, will recognize the completeness and harmony of à character that has so far appeared to them only in profile. The stainless honor, the straightforward frankness, the vivacity of manner and conversation, the gentleness, the flow of good humor, the cheerful ever-buoyant spirit of the true man: these will be added to the complete education, the thorough seamanship, the careful preparation, the devotion to duty, and lastly, the restless energy, the disdain of obstacles, the impatience of delay or hesitation, the disregard of danger, that stand forth in such prominence in the portrait, deeply engraven on the loyal American heart, of the GREAT ADMIRAL.

May he long be preserved, to emulate his own example; to set forth to the youth the model of a true man, an accomplished gentleman, and a brave sailor; and in the fulness of his years and honors to enjoy, in ease and dignity, the gratitude of his countrymen.

Young gentlemen: he lived the words of little Nelson: "Fear, Grandmother? I never saw fear!"

ANA OF THE WAR.

PICKINGS AND PICKETINGS.

I.

THE correspondent of a rebel newspaper once wrote: "The war is a huge frolic to the Yankees. Soldiers and officers are enjoying themselves. They want nothing. There is no sorrow in their camps or longing for home, and a bloody field is looked on joyously as opening the door of promotion."

However this may be, it is very certain that there has long been a wide difference between Rebel and Union camps as regards cheerfulness. The Indian-like gloom, or at least that sullen gravity, which was always peculiar to every Southerner, below the rank of an F. F., has not disappeared in a long and wearying war "where hunger was much more frequent than enough," as a rebel letter once said. It is well worth noting, that, despite all that has been said of "psalm-singing Yan

kees" and "canting curs"-and I have before me an article on this very text, from a Southern newspaper-there has always been in our camps much more of that healthy cheerfulness which Confederate writers, oddly enough, claim as one of their own characteristics, than is to be found anywhere among the

enemy.

What the Union soldier is, "as a general thing," and in his own opinion, has been amusingly set forth in The Crutch, a newspaper published by the patients at the United States General Hospital, Annapolis:

"The model American soldier is patient and enduring; likes camp-life; is goodnatured and jolly, and makes fun for his comrades; is always ready for any duty; does all the cooking for his tent-mates and himself; washes a shirt occasionally for tent-mate; has his knapsack always ready to start at a moment's notice; spends all day Sunday cleaning his gun; can eat raw pork on a march; don't drink much water on a march; don't consider it healthy; sleeps with his boots and cap on; carries his pockets full of ammunition; has his tent up and supper cooked just ten minutes after a halt; knows where to find plenty of rail fences; always has plenty of straw to sleep on; don't have a high opinion of officers; wouldn't do any thing for the Colonel if 'twas to save his life; thinks the Major ought to have something to do to prevent him from getting lazy; thinks his Captain a first-rate fellow, and helps to put up his tent; won't stand any nonsense from the Lieutenant; don't like battles better than anybody else, but is ready to do his duty; tries to take care of his health; has re-enlisted, and intends to see the thing through; sends home all his pay; intends to buy land and settle down when the war is over; considers it foolish to get drunk; never spends money at the sutler's; helps the new recruit strap on his knapsack; advises him not to eat much grease; wants him to take care of his health; never gets angry except when talking about rebels; swears a little then; can't help it; is willing to sacrifice his life to put down the rebellion; believes Abe Lincoln an honest man; will vote for him or any other man that will put down this rebellion; thinks army contractors and officers with big salaries have kept the war going too long; is willing to do his duty any way, and hopes, when the war is over, to see Jeff Davis and the Copperheads go to destruction together." "To take it coolly' is an old lesson of soldier life, which was in all probability the test of savoir faire and social supremacy among the camps of the primeval Aryans or antediluvian Celts, as well as with the 'Feds' and 'Johnny Rebs' of the present day. And they have certainly attained to great excellence in the art. 'I have seen soldiers chase hares,' says the writer of an army letter, and pick blackberries, when a shower of the leaden messengers of death was falling thick and fast around them, and do many other cool and foolish things. But the following, which actually took place at Mine Run, surpasses any thing I remember to have ever seen or heard: One of those biting cold mornings, while the armies of Meade and Lee were staring at each other across the little rivulet known as Mine Run, when moments appeared to be hours and hours days, so near at hand seemed the deadly strife, a solitary sheep leisurely walked along the run on the rebel side. A rebel vidette fired and killed the sheep, and, dropping his gun, advanced to remove the prize. In an instant he was covered by a gun in the hands of a Union vidette, Who said: "Divide is the word, or you are a dead Johnny." This proposition was assented to, and there, between the two skirmish lines, Mr. Rebel skinned the sheep, took one half and moved back with it to his post, when his challenger, in turn, dropping his gun, crossed the run, got the other half of the sheep, and resumed the duties of his post, amidst the cheers of his comrades, who expected to help him eat it.'"

The old story which attributed to General Putnam extraordinary coolness-in the opinion at least of the British officerbecause he sat at his ease on a barrel of gunpowder with a

VOL. III.-2

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