Memorial Service and Celebration in Mt. Salem in Rockford Park United Methodist Church

Yesterday, Sunday, May 25, 1864 [2014], a special memorial service was held at Mt. Salem Church in Wilmington, Delaware, to honor our fallen soldiers and sailors interred at Mt. Salem Cemetery.  The services were presided over by the Reverend John F. Holden, Pastor, who relinquished the pulpit to keynote speaker, Major Andrew Werner, Chaplain of the 72nd Troop Command, Delaware Army National Guard.  Chaplain Werner delivered a thoughtful oration to the congregation, which included many family members and loved ones of the honored deceased, and several dignitaries.  Among the distinguished guests present was Samuel Francis duPont Bayard, Esq. [great grand], nephew of Rear Admiral Samuel Francis Du Pont.  

Also evident at the service among the church members and visiting soldiers and sailors were several convalescing veterans in the crowd.  During the traditional  "Passing of the Peace (of God)," this reporter clasped hands with one particular wounded warrior who offered his remaining stump of a right hand without evident embarrassment, in the spirit of true Christian fellowship.  The scripture lesson that followed was taken from I Corinthians 11:23-36, which reads, in the words of Saint Paul:  "I have already told you what the Lord Jesus did on the night he was betrayed...."  (During this hellacious rebellion that has taken so many lives on both sides, one can't help but think of the "betrayal" of the errant southern states in leaving our sacred Union and causing so much bloodshed.)

After singing the final congregational hymn,  How Great Thou Art, and following Pastor Holden's prayer for peace and thanksgiving, a benediction was read in unison by the congregants to conclude the service.  There immediately followed a procession to the cemetery led by an honor guard composed of soldiers of the 2nd Delaware Regiment, and sailors of the USS Lehigh, carrying the National Flag and naval ensign, respectively.

At the cemetery gate, Boatswain's Mate, Daniel J. Cashin, gave a pipe salute followed by a proclamation read by Mr. DuPont honoring his namesake, Admiral Du Pont, and his fifty years of distinguished service to his country.  The Call to Order was delivered by Ship's Surgeon, Donald Fischer, which read:

"Today we remember and honor our Civil War and other veterans, especially those buried here.  We also recognize the brave men [and women] who serve today in our Country's military who have taken their places in the ranks of the patriots who came before them.  Through the great sacrifices that they and their families have made and are making, our freedoms have been established and defended."

Bells of Remembrance were solemnly tolled at the reading of the names of each fallen serviceman and wreaths were placed at several tombstones.  A rifle salute and taps were immediately followed by the closing prayer and recitation of Psalm 23 led again by Surgeon Fischer. 

The solemn ceremony concluded, a sumptuous picnic luncheon was given by the ladies of Mt. Salem in the fellowship hall, and outside under the trees.  The ceremony and festivities were blessed by beautiful sunny weather, further evidence of God's blessing upon us and our glorious Union.

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The New-York Times Interviews Admiral David G. Farragut, Victor of the Battle of New Orleans, at the "Spirit of the Jerseys" State History Fair, 10 May 1864 [2014].

N-Y Times:  Admiral Farragut, at the beginning of the Rebellion, why were you so determined to stand by the Old Flag when so many of your compatriots - southern naval officers - went South?

Admiral Farragut:  The Union has always been of paramount importance to me.  Despite my well-documented southern birth and associations, I could not countenance the dismantling of our sacred Union and the rabid insults to our country's flag.  After 50 years of service in the Old Navy, including the War of 1812 and the Mexican War, my first allegiance was to the insoluble Union.

N-Y Times:  Your well-deserved promotion to Rear Admiral in July 1862 was for your stunning success in opening up the Mississippi all the way to Vicksburg.  What difficulties did you surmount in order to capture the City of New Orleans?

Admiral Farragut:  The forts guarding the southern approach to the city had either to be reduced or bypassed.  After giving the Rebels a severe bombardment from the mortar schooners, my officers and I elected to run our ships past the forts at night [24 April 1862] to minimize casualties and limit damage to the fleet.

N-Y Times:  How effective was Commander David Dixon Porter's bombardment of Forts Jackson and St. Phillip?

Admiral Farragut:  Well, when it appeared after a time that the firing by the enemy's forts had not been silenced, I had my signal officer climb the mizzen mast to judge where the shells were falling.  A tally was made of the shots that landed inside the forts, and also the shots that were landing outside the works. The "outs" far surpassed the "ins," so I said, 'David, there's the score.  I guess we'll go up the river tonight.'

N-Y Times:  How would you describe your relationship with Commander Porter?

Admiral Farragut:  David is my foster brother.  He and I got along famously at New Orleans, though, of course, we did not always see eye to eye.   The value of mortar work during the campaign, for instance, we did not agree upon.

N-Y Times:  In your estimation, how important was the fall of New Orleans to the Union war effort?

Admiral Farragut:  Now you're asking me to toot my own horn, Sir!  Though, I must say, the importance of New Orleans to the South's economy, with its large population, industry, shipyards, and munitions factories cannot be overstated.  By taking the city we tightened the noose [i.e., the naval blockade] several notches and eliminated a major port for the Rebels.  Our victory interdicted the flow of commerce along the river and also served to frustrate any Confederate hopes of foreign intervention, particularly on the part of France.

N-Y Times:  Was there ever a moment during the campaign that you despaired of its eventual success?

Admiral Farragut:  No, no I never doubted the final outcome of our efforts.  However, if the truth be told, I must say there was one moment when I thought it was all up for me and the Hartford [the Admiral's flagship].  In sailing upriver past Fort Jackson under a heavy fire, and while still under the guns of Fort St. Philip, we grounded on a shoal.   It took awhile to back her off, all the while a tug of the rebel fleet had pushed a fire raft up against our port quarter, and holding it fast, set our sails and rigging aflame. This was indeed a crisis!  It was then I noticed my flag officer on his knees in an apparent appeal for Heaven's intervention.  I remember shouting, 'Come on Mr. Osbon, this is no time for prayer!'  But it soon became apparent to me that Osbon was not in an attitude of prayer, but was busily engaged in uncapping two 20-lb. shells.  He proceeded to roll them over the side, whereupon the shells exploded, tearing a hole in the fire raft, sending it to the bottom.  Meanwhile the professionalism of our sailors was much in evidence that night as they doused the flames and we slowly backed off the mud bank and continued upriver.

N-Y Times:  Isn't it true, Sir, that you were nearly hit by a shell while you were perched aloft in the ship's rigging?

Admiral Farragut:  I had merely climbed the mizzen rigging to get a better view of our position in all the smoke and confusion of the battle.  My officers repeatedly implored me to come down, and just as I was descending from my vantage point, a shot fired by the enemy tore through the rigging in the very spot I had just vacated only moments before.  But, you well know the saying:  'A miss is as good as a mile!'

N-Y Times:   How much of a threat to your ships was the dreaded ram, CSS Manassas, and the so-called 'Mosquito Fleet?'

Admiral Farragut:  The Manassas was a hum-bug as far as I was concerned, although she did manage to inflict some damage by ramming a couple of our vessels before running aground and blowing herself up. The real threat was running the gauntlet past the heavy guns of the forts and floating batteries.  Once we cut the chain boom and passed the forts, we dispersed the motley Rebel fleet, and nothing stood between us and the prize [i.e., New Orleans].

N-Y Times:  How do you account for the relatively low number of casualties among the fleet?

Admiral Farragut:  We had a plan to keep moving and, by and large, we stuck to it.  With the darkness of the hour and the smoke and fog upon the river, the enemy batteries generally fired high as we ran the forts. We only lost one ship to enemy fire, although three other gunboats in our fleet were forced to turn back.

N-Y Times:  How were you able to receive the surrender of the city before the arrival of the Union Army?

Admiral Farragut:  When Rebel forces evacuated the city's defenses upon our approach, city functionaries had no recourse but to surrender to our fleet as we came to anchor at the wharf at the foot of Laurel Street.  Though there was, naturally, a great hue and cry throughout, the citizens soon realized that their rebellious city had thus far been spared destruction and it was clearly in their best interests to cooperate with the United States Navy.  While negotiations carried on at City Hall, General [Benjamin F.] Butler and his troops were landed to receive the surrender of Forts Jackson and St. Philip below. When this was accomplished, part of the army was left to garrison the forts and another part was transported upriver to occupy the city.

N-Y Times:  Is it true that a certain citizen of New Orleans of the female persuasion, certainly no lady, brazenly emptied the contents of her chamber pot upon your head as you walked along the street below?

Admiral Farragut:  No, that was Butler, poor fellow!

N-Y Times:  In your opinion, had Admiral Du Pont employed the same tactics at Charleston in April 1863 as you did here at New Orleans, would that infamous port be closed today?

Admiral Farragut:  Admiral Du Pont is a fine officer and a colleague.  His situation in South Carolina was entirely different than mine.  The Navy may not have captured Charleston, but the city is now effectively closed to blockade runners for all intents and purposes.

N-Y Times:  What is next for Admiral Farragut and the U S Navy?

Admiral Farragut:  Of course, I am not at liberty to say; however, I will say this:  the Rebellion is all played out, and I want to be there at the finish.

N-Y Times:  Thank you, Admiral, for your time and your candid remarks.

Admiral Farragut:  My pleasure, Sir.

"Henry J. Winser" (left) interviewing Admiral Farragut (far right [portrayed by Bruce Tucker]) and Captain John Worden (center [portrayed by Sandy Werfel]) at the 2014 New Jersey State History Fair.  Photo courtesy of William Myers.

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[Ed note:  Bradley Sillick Osbon was a journalist and an experienced sailor.  He was hired as chief naval correspondent by a rival newspaper, the New York Herald.   Admiral Farragut recognized Osbon's experience and appointed him as his Signal Officer aboard Hartford.]

For more information, see:  Dufour CL, The Night the War Was Lost, and Hearn CG, The Capture of New Orleans 1862.

 

Life On Board a Monitor of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron

Your reporter was recently granted special permission to visit a monitor-type vessel in the performance of her duty, namely, interdicting the flow of commerce in and out of the Port of Charleston, South Carolina, now the infamous "Cradle of Secession."  This correspondent was given a grand tour of one of the Navy's newest and most formidable vessels, the USS Lehigh, Captain Bryson commanding.  She is a single screw steamer of the Passaic class of sea-going ironclads, mounting one massive 15-inch Dahlgren smoothbore in her revolving turret alongside a powerful eight-inch Parrott rifle.  Despite her slow rate of fire, the Lehigh packs a devastating one-two punch as the crumbling ramparts of Fort Sumter can well attest.  Yet, like a lumbering pugilist, the unwieldy Lehigh must cut off the ring of fire, as it were, to close with the enemy fort before delivering her dreaded "haymakers," all the while absorbing blows from the enemy's guns that would have surely knocked out a vulnerable wooden gunboat.  Thus the Lehigh with her shallow draught and her sister monitors are positioned at the forefront of the blockade in depth, closest to the entrance of the harbor, and closest to the enemy.

Even when relieved from her station, life on board the Lehigh is no walk in Central Park for her complement of 75 officers and men.  The crew must endure the extreme heat of a southern summer encased in iron, much of the time confined in close quarters below the main deck.  Although she is 200 feet long and 46 feet abeam, descending to the berth deck of the Lehigh is like a descent into the nether regions, especially upon approaching the engine room aft, where shirtless coal heavers and sweating firemen toil like begrimed demons to keep the ship moving forward at a top speed of seven knots. Although your correspondent has grown rather accustomed to finding himself in "tight spots" since the commencement of the Rebellion, the confining atmosphere below left him feeling somewhat disoriented and slightly light-headed.  Surrounded by boilers, gears, wheels, vibrating engines and clanking machinery of all types, as well as an endless tangle of steam pipes running fore and aft, this writer was frankly bewildered by the intricate, inner workings of the Lehigh, submerged as we were well below the surface of the sea, and with the afternoon temperature recorded in the ship's log at 98 degrees fahrenheit. The extra racks for solid shot with explosive ordnance packed into every available corner of the vessel added to the general feeling of claustrophobia.  With what little ventilation that could be discerned coming down from the turret and hatchways, one begins to ponder one's lung capacity and the ability of the blowers to keep enough oxygen circulating for the entire crew plus one invited guest.  Gladly ascending a ladder to the main deck, one is immediately greeted by a sweet draught of much-welcomed fresh air; however, the iron deck is not a safe place for a journalist or any other landlubber to linger when the ship is underway as the deck plates are almost completely awash by even a moderately choppy sea.

The pilot house atop the turret is cramped with room only for the Captain, helmsman, and pilot.  And there is certainly no available space for a nosey reporter.  Communication with the engine room and turret below is achieved through means of a speaking tube.  The revolving gun turret immediately below the pilot house is the monitor's most visible and distinguishing feature.  Inside it is a dark and foreboding place with dim light entering only through two gun portals.  When aiming, the gunner must sight his guns by peering out through a small peephole.  When fired, the deafening concussion of the guns is felt throughout the entire ship as the turret fills with sulfurous, choking smoke.

The only place of relative comfort to be found on an ironclad is the Captain's cabin and the wood-paneled ward room where the officers commune and take their meals. Despite the elegant furnishings, the heat encroaches upon officers and crew alike, making all unbearably miserable.

Despite her shortcomings and the hardships endured by her brave sailors, the Lehigh is one of the newest and most sophisticated vessels in the Navy's arsenal of warships.  She is most feared in "Rebeldom" as the Confederates have no ironclad ram capable of standing toe-to-toe with our armored heavyweight.  Instead, the enemy must rely upon disintegrating forts, obstructions, and the dreaded infernal torpedoes to keep the Union fleet at arm's length.  It is only a matter of time for the crushing blockade to sever the rebels' tenuous supply line of foreign aid, and the birthplace of the rebellion will ingloriously fall like a rotten peach.

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Ed. note:  The USS Lehigh was built by Reaney, Son, & Archibold, Chester, Pa., and launched 17 January 1863.  She was subsequently commissioned at the Philadelphia Navy Yard 15 April 1863.

(For more information, see:  Konstam A. Union Monitor 1861 - 65;  Field R. Confederate Ironclad vs Union Ironclad;  and Hunter AF. A Year on a Monitor and the Destruction of Fort Sumter.)

Photos: Hill, Jim Dan.  The Civil War Sketchbook of Charles Ellery Stedman.  Presidio Press, San Rafael CA, 1976.