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In William Barker Cushing's Own Words
The Destruction of the Albemarle
In September, 1864, the Government was laboring under much anxiety in regard to the condition of affairs in the sounds of North Carolina. Some months previous (April 19th) a rebel iron-clad had made her appearance, attacking Plymouth, beating our fleet, sinking the Southfield, and killing the gallant Captain Flusser, who commanded the flotilla. General Wessells's brigade had been forced to surrender, and all that section of the country and the line of Roanoke River had fallen again into rebel hands. Little Washington and the Tar River were thus outflanked and lost to us. Some time after (May 5th), this iron-clad, the Albemarle, had steamed out into the open sound and engaged seven of our steamers, doing such damage and suffering little. The Sassacus had attempted to run her down, but had failed, and had had her boiler exploded by one of the 100-pound shells fired from the Confederate.
The Government had no iron-clad that could cross Hatteras bar and enter the sounds (1), and it seemed likely that our wooden ships would be defeated, leaving New Berne, Roanoke Island, and other points endangered. At all events, it was impossible for any number of our vessels to injure her at Plymouth, and the expense of our squadron kept to watch her was very great.
At this stage of affairs Admiral S.P. Lee spoke to me of the case, where I proposed a plan for her capture or destruction. I submitted in writing two plans, either of which I was willing to undertake.
The first was based upon the fact that through a thick swamp the iron-clad might be approached to within a few hundred yards, whence India-rubber boats, to be inflated, and carried upon men's backs, might transport a boarding-party of a hundred men; in the second plan the offensive force was to be conveyed in two low-pressure and very small steamers, each armed with a torpedo and howitzer.
In this last named plan (which had my preference), I intended that one boat should dash in, while the other stood by to throw canister and renew the attempt if the first should fail. It would also be useful to pick up our men if the attacking boat were disabled. Admiral Lee believed that the plan was a good one, and ordered me to Washington to submit it to the Secretary of the Navy. Mr. Fox, the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, doubted the merit of the project, but concluded to order me to New York to "purchase suitable vessels."
Finding some boats building for picket duty, I selected two, and proceeded to fit them out. They were open launches, about thirty feet in length, with small engines, and propelled by a screw. A 12-pounder howitzer was fitted to the bow of each, and a boom was rigged out, some fourteen feet in length, swinging by a goose-neck hinge to the bluff of the bow. A topping lift, carried to a stanchion inboard, raised or lowered it at the end. This was intended to be detached from the boom by means of a heel-jigger leading inboard, and to be exploded by another line, connecting with a pin, which held a grape-shot over a nipple and cap. The torpedo was the invention of Engineer Lay of the navy, and was introduced by Chief-Engineer Wood.
Everything being completed, we started to the southward, taking the boats through the canals to Chesapeake Bay, and losing one in going down Norfolk. This was a great misfortune, and I have never understood how it occurred. I forget the name of the volunteer ensign to whos care it was entrusted, he was taken prisoner with his crew.
My best boat being thus lost, I proceeded with one alone to make my way through the Chesapeake and Albemarle canals into the sounds.
Half-way through, the canal was filled up, but finding a small creek that emptied into it below the obstruction, I endeavored to feel my way through. Encountering a mill-dam, we waited for high water, and ran the launch over it; below she grounded, but I got a flat-boat, and taking out gun and coal, succeeded in two days getting her through. Passing with but seven men through the canal, where for thirty miles there as no guard or Union inhabitant, I reached the sound, and ran before a gale of wind to Roanoke Island. Here I pretended that we were going to Beaufort, and engaged to take two passengers along. This deception became necessary, in consequence of the close proximity of the rebel forces. If any person had known our destination, the news would have reached Plymouth long before we arrived to confirm it.
So, in the middle of the night, I steamed off into the darkness, and in the morning was out of sight. Fifty miles up the sound, I found the fleet anchored off the mouth of the river, and waiting the ram's appearance. Here for the first time, I disclosed to my officers and men our object, and told them that they were at liberty to go or not, as they pleased. These, seven in number, all volunteered. One of the, Mr. Howarth of the Monticello, had been with me repeatedly in expeditions of peril. Eight were added to my original force, among whom was Assistant Paymaster Francis H. Swan, who came to me as we were about to start and urged that he might go, as he had never been in a fight. Disregarding my remark that "it was a bad time for initiation," he still made the request, and joined us. He found an eventful night of it, being wounded, and spending his next fourth months in Libby Prison.
The Roanoke River is a stream averaging 150 yards in width, and quite deep. Eight miles from the mouth was the town of Plymouth, where the ram was moored. Several thousand soldiers occupied town and forts, and held both banks of the stream. A mile below the ram was the wreck of the Southfield, with hurricane deck above water, and on this a guard was stationed, to give notice of anything suspicious, and to send up fire-rockets in case of attack. Thus it seemed impossible to surprise them, or to attack, with hope of success.
Impossibilities are for the timid: we determined to overcome all obstacles. On the night of the 27th of October (2) we entered the river, taking in tow a small cutter with a few men, the duty of whom was to dash aboard the [wreck of the] Southfield at the first hail, and prevent any rocket from being ignited.
Fortune was with our little boat and we actually passed within thirty feet of the pickets without discovery and neared the wharf, where the rebels lay all unconscious. I now thought that it might be better to board her, and "take her alive," having in the two boats twenty men well armed with revolvers, cutlasses, and hand-grenades. To be sure , there were ten times our number on the ship and thousands near by but a surprise is everything, and I thought if her fasts were cut at the instant of boarding, we might overcome those on board, taker her into the stream, and use her iron sides to protect us afterward from the forts. Knowing the town, I concluded to land at the lower wharf, creep around and suddenly dash aboard from the bank; but just as I was sheering in close from the wharf, a hail came, sharp and quick from the iron-clad, an in an instant was repeated. I at once directed the cutter to cast off, and go down to capture the guard left in our rear, and ordering all steam went at the dark mountain of iron in front of us. A heavy fire was at once opened upon us, not only from the ship, but from men stationed on shore. This did not disable us, and we neared them rapidly. A large fire now blazed upon the bank, and by its light I discovered the unfortunate fact that there was a circle of logs around the Albemarle, boomed well out from her side, with the very intention of preventing the action of torpedoes. To examine them more closely I ran alongside until amidships, received the enemy's fire, and sheered off for the purpose of turning, a hundred yards away, and going at the booms squarely, at right angles, thrusting to their having been long enough in the water to have become slimy -- in which case my boat, under full headway, would bump up against them and slip over into the pen with the ram. This was my only chance of success, and once over the obstruction my boat would never get out again; but I was there to accomplish an important duty. As I turned, the whole back of my coat was torn out by buckshot, and the sole of my shoe was carried away. The fire was very severe.
In a lull of the firing, the captain hailed us, and demanding what boat it was. All my men gave some comical answers, and mine was a dose of canister, which I sent among them from the howitzer, buzzing and singing against the iron ribs and into the mass of men standing by the fire upon the shore. In another instant we had struck the logs and were over, with headway nearly gone, slowly forging up under the enemy's quarter-port. Ten feet from us the muzzle of a rifle gun looked into our faces, and ever word of command on board was distinctly heard.
My clothing was perforated with bullets as I stood in the bow, the heel-jigger in my right hand and the exploding-line in the left. We were near enough then, and I ordered the boom lowered until the forward motion of the launch carried the torpedo under the ram's overhang. A strong pull of the detaching-line, a moment's waiting for the torpedo to rise under the hull, and I hauled in the left hand, just cut by a bullet (3).
The explosion took place at the same instant that 100 pounds of grape, at 10 feet range, crashed in our midst, and the dense mass of water thrown out by the torpedo came down with choking weight upon us.
Twice refusing to surrender, I commanded the men to save themselves; and throwing off sword, revolver, shoes, and coat, struck out from my disabled and sinking boat into the river. It was cold, long after the frosts, and the water chilled the blood, while the whole surface of the stream was plowed up by grape and musketry, and my nearest friend, the fleet, were twelve miles away, but anything was better than to fall into rebel hands. Death was better than surrender. I swam for the opposite shore, but as I neared it a men, one of my crews (4), gave a great gurgling yell and went down.
The rebels were out in boats, picking up my men; and one of these, attracted by the sound pulled in my direction. I heard my own name mentioned, but was not seen. I now "struck out" down the stream, and was soon far enough away to again attempt landing. This time, as I struggled to reach the bank, I heard a groan in the river behind me, and though very much exhausted, concluded to turn and give all the aid in my power to the officer or seaman who had bravely shared the danger with me and in whos peril I might in turn partake.
Swimming in the night, with eye at the level of the water, one can have no idea of distance, and labors, as I did, under the discouraging thought that no headway is made. But if I were to drown that night, I had at least an opportunity of dying while struggling to aid another. Nearing the swimmer, it proved to be Acting Master's Mate Woodman, who said that he could swim no longer. Knocking his cap from his head, I used my right arm to sustain him, and ordered him to strike out. For ten minutes at lease, I think, he managed to keep afloat, when, his presence of mind and physical force being completely gone, he gave a yell and sunk like a stone, fortunately not seizing upon me as he went down.
Again alone upon the water, I directed my course towards the town side of the river, not making much headway, as my strokes were now very feeble, my clothes being soaked and heavy, and little shop-seas splashing with a choking persistence into my mouth every time that I gasped for breath. Still, there was a determination not to sink, a will not to give up; and I kept up a sort of mechanical motion long after my bodily force was in fact expended.
At last, and not a moment too soon, I touched the soft mud, and in the excitement of the first shock I half raised my body and made one step forward; then fell, and remained half in the mud and half in the water until daylight, unable even to crawl on hands and knees, nearly frozen, with brain in a whirl, but with one thing strong in me -- the fixed determination to escape. The prospect of drowning, starvation, death in the swamps -- all seemed lesser evils than that of surrender.
As day dawned, I found myself in a point of swamp that enters the suburbs of Plymouth, and not forty yards from one of the forts. The sun came out bright and warm, proving a most cheering visitant, and giving me back a good portion of the strength of which I had been deprived before. Its light showed me the town swarming with soldiers and sailors, who moved about excitedly, as if angry at some sudden shock. It was a source of satisfaction to me to know that I had pulled the wire that set all these figures moving (in a manner quite as interesting as the best of theatricals), but as I had no desire of being discovered by any of the rebs who were so plentiful around me, I did not long remain a spectator. My first object was to get into a dry fringe of rushes that edged the swamp; but to do this required me to pass over thirty or forty feet of open ground, right under the eye of the sentinel who walked the parapet.
Watching until he turned for a moment, I made a dash to cross the space, but was only half-way when he turned, and forced me to drop down right between two paths, and almost entirely unshielded. Perhaps I was unobserved because of the mud that covered me, and made me blend in with the earth; at all events the soldier continued his tramp for some time, while I, flat on my back, awaited another chance for action. Soon a party of four men came down the path at my right, two of them being officers, and passed so close to me as almost to tread upon my arm. They were conversing upon the events of the previous night, and were wondering "how it was done," entirely unconscious of the presence of one who could give them the information. This proved to me the necessity of regaining the swamp, which I did by sinking my heels and elbows into the earth and forcing my body, inch by inch, towards it. For five hours then, with bare feet, head, and hands, I made my way where I ventured to say none ever did before, until I came at last to a clear place, where I might rest upon solid ground. The cypress swamp was a network of thorns and briers, that cut into the flesh at every step like knives, and frequently, when the soft mire would not bear my weight, I was forced to throw my body upon it at length, and haul it along by the arms. Hands and feet were raw when I reached the clearing, and yet my difficulties were but commenced. A working-party of soldiers was in the opening, engaged in sinking some schooners in the river to obstruct the channel. I passed twenty yards in their rear through a corn furrow, and gained some woods below. Here I encountered a negro, and after serving out to him twenty dollars in greenbacks and some texts of Scripture (two powerful arguments with an old darky), I had confidence enough in his fidelity to send him into town for news of the ram.
When he returned, and there was no longer doubt that she had gone down, I went on again, and plunged into a swamp so thick that I had only the sun for a guide and could not see ten feet in advance. About 2 o'clock in the afternoon I came out from the dense mass of reeds upon the bank of one of the deep narrow streams that abound there, and right opposite to the only road in the vicinity. It seemed providential that I should come just there, for, thirty yards above or below, I never should have seen the road, and might have struggled on until worn out and starved -- found a never-to-be-discovered grave. As it was, my fortune had let me to where a picket party of seven soldiers were posted, having a little flat-bottomed, square-ended skiff toggled to the root of a cypress-tree that squirmed like a snake into the inky water. Watching them until they went back a few yards to eat, I crept into the stream and swam over, keeping the big tree between myself and them, and making for the skiff.
Gaining the bank, I quietly cast loose the boat and floated behind it some thirty yards around the first bend, where I got in and paddle away as only a man could where liberty was at stake.
Hour after hour I paddled, never ceasing for a moment, first on one side, then on the other, while sunshine passed into twilight and that was swallowed up in thick darkness, only relieved by the few faint star rays that penetrated the heavy swamp curtain on either side. At last I reached the mouth of the Roanoke, and found the open sound before me.
My frail boat could not have lived a moment in the ordinary sea there, but it chanced to be very calm, leaving only a slight swell, which was, however, sufficient to influence my boat, so that I was forced to paddle all upon one side to keep her on the intended course.
After steering by a star for perhaps two hours for where I thought the fleet might be, I at length discovered one of the vessels, and after a long time got within hail. My "Ship ahoy!" was given with the last of my strength, and I fell powerless, with a splash, into the water in the bottom of my boat, and waited results. I had paddled every minute for ten successive hours, and for my body had been "asleep," with the exception of my two arms and brain. The picket vessel, Valley City -- for it was she, -- upon hearing the hail at once slipped her cable and got underway, at the same time lowering boats and taking precaution against torpedoes.
It was some time before they would pick me up, being convinced that I was the rebel conductor of an infernal machine, and that Lieutenant Cushing had died the night before.
At last I was on board, had imbibed a little brandy and water, and was on my way to the flag-ship, commanded by Commander Macomb.
As soon as it became known that I returned, rockets were thrown up and all hands called to cheer ship; and when I announced success, all the commanding officers were summoned on board to deliberate upon a plan of attack.
In the morning I was again well in every way, with the exception of hands and feet, and had the pleasure of exchanging shots with the batteries that I had inspected on the day previous.
I was sent in the Valley City to report to Admiral Porter at Hampton Roads, and soon after Plymouth and the whole district of the Albemarle deprived of the iron-clad's protection, fell an easy prey to Commander Macomb and our fleets (5).
I again received the congratulations of the Navy Department, and the thanks of the Congress, who was also promoted to the grade of Lieutenant-Commander.
Footnotes
1) Several light-draught monitors were in course of construction at this time, but were not yet completed.
2) The first attempt was made on the previous night, but after proceeding a short distance the launch grounded, and the time lost in getting her off made it too late to carry out the purpose of the expedition.
3) In considering the merits of Cushing's success with this exceedingly complicated instrument, it must be remembered that nothing short of the utmost care in preparation could keep its mechanism in working-order; that in making ready to use it, it was necessary to keep the end of the spar elevated until the boat had surmounted the boom of logs, and to judge accurately the distance in order to stop the boat's headway at the right point; that the spar must then be lowered with the same precision of judgment; that the detaching lanyard must then be pulled firmly, but without a jerk; that, finally, the position of the torpedo under the knuckle of the ram must be calculated to a nicety, and that by a very gentle strain on a line some twenty-five or thirty feet long the trigger-pin must be withdrawn. When it is reflected that Cushing had attached to his person four separate lines, vis., the detaching lanyard, the trigger-line, and two lines to direct the movements of the boat, one of which was fastened to the wrist and the other to the ankle of the engineer' that he was also directing the adjustment of the spar by the halyard; that the management of all these lines, requiring as much exactness and delicacy of touch as a surgical operation, where a single error in their employment, even a pull too much or too little, would render the whole expedition abortive, was carried out under a fire of musketry so hot that several bullets passed through his clothing and directly in front of the muzzle of a 100-pounder rifle, and carried out with perfect success, it is safe to say that the naval history of the world affords no other example of such marvelous coolness and professional skill as that shown by Cushing in the destruction of the Albemarle. --J.R. Soley
4) Samuel Higgins, fireman.
5) Lieutenant Cushing reached the Valley City about midnight on the night of October 28-29, and announced the destruction of the Albemarle. On the next day, the 29th, at 11:15 A.M. Commander Macomb got under way, and his fleet proceeded up the Roanoke River in the following order: Commodore Hull, Shamrock (flag ship), Chicopee, Otesgo, Wyalusing, and Tacony; the Valley City being sent at the same time up Middle River, which joined the Roanoke above Plymouth, to intercept any vessels coming out with stores. Upon the arrival of the fleet at the wreck of the Southfield, after exchanging shots with the lower batteries, it was found that the enemy had effectually obstructed the channel by sinking schooners alongside the wreck, and the expedition was therefore compelled to return. The Valley City, hearing the firing cease, concluded that Plymouth had been captured, and continuing her course up Middle River reached the Roanoke; but on approaching the enemy's works, and learning her mistake, she withdrew as she had come. It was upon her course up Middle River, shortly after noon, that the Valley City picked up Houghton, the only member of the crew of the picket-boat, besides Cushing, who escaped death or capture. He had swum across the river, and had remained hidden for thirty-six hours in the swamp that separates the two streams.
Reference: The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Volume XXXVI, Number 2, June 1888
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