The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863

Though a resident of Washington, I was not 'to the manor born,' but a 'mudsill' from Vermont, and when the war broke out I applied to be received into the hospitals, but was refused on account of want of experience. Intent, notwithstanding, upon making my services necessary, I passed part of every day in one or other of them. One day I noticed a new comer. Her head was bent down as I approached her; but when I passed, she looked up for a moment, and I had a glimpse of her face. 'That is the homeliest face I ever saw,' said I to myself. It will be a perpetual annoyance to me. I am sorry she has come.' The next day I was again in that hospital, and, standing near a door which opened into a side room, I overheard a conversation going on between a surgeon and a lady. It was not of a private nature, and I kept my place and listened to it. I was charmed by the agreeable tones of the lady, her well-chosen words, and the great good sense and tender kindness of her remarks. 'I must know that woman,' said I, 'she will be a treasure if she is going to stay here.' She came out, and I recognized the homely nurse of the previous day. I was astonished, but my prejudice was entirely disarmed. I soon made her acquaintance, and gradually established myself as her assistant, until, at her request, I was allowed to take up my abode in the building.

Her presence in the hospital was soon evident. The surgeons found with surprise that her skill and knowledge were equal to every requirement, that she shrank from no task, however fearfully repelling it might be, and they quickly began to avail themselves of her womanly deftness. To the soldiers she was a perpetual blessing. Every means which her thoughtful experience could suggest she put in requisition to soothe their pain or strengthen them to bear it. Nature, who never denies all gifts to any of her children, had given her a good voice, not powerful, but sweet and penetrating, and often, when all else failed, I have seen her lull a patient to sleep with some favorite tune set to appropriate words. Priceless indeed were her services, and priceless was the recompense she received.

But for the humor that peeped out occasionally in Miss Sunderland, to an ordinary observer her character—as she moved unambitiously through the wards, doing always the right thing at the right time, unexpectant of blame and regardless of praise, obeying directions apparently to the very letter, yet never allowing the mistakes or carelessness of the director to mar her own work—would have seemed almost colorless; but I have never considered myself an ordinary observer where character is concerned, and I soon saw that hers was not the unreasoning goodness of instinct, that it derived life and tone from a past full of culture and discipline. I noticed in her three things particularly: First, complete and unusual happiness, a happiness entirely independent of the incidents of the day. It was as if an unclouded sun were perpetually shining in her heart. This came, I knew afterward, from the fact that she was serving the cause she loved most, that she was doing her work well, and that through it and connected with it she found place for all her best qualities and highest knowledge. Second, her thorough refinement. Without, as I perceived, hereditary breeding, and without conventional pruderies, she had a rare purity and elevation of feeling, which exerted a manifest and constant influence, sadly needed in a soldiers' hospital. Third, her life within. From choice, not from necessity, her life continually turned upon itself; from within she found her chief motive, sanction, and reward, and this took from her intercourse with others all pettiness, and made their relations to herself uncommonly truthful.

From time to time, as the scene of battle shifted, we removed to other hospitals, I always accompanying Miss Sunderland; but at last, in the spring, we again got back to Washington. The battles all around were raging fearfully, and the wounded were continually brought to us in scores. Day and night Miss Sunderland was engaged. Usually careful of herself in the extreme, she seemed now to forget all prudence.

'You cannot endure this,' said I one day to her. 'Your first duty is to take care of your health.'

'No, no,' said she, 'my first duty is to save the lives of these men; the second, to take care of my health for their future benefit; but I cannot give out now. Don't you see how necessary my work is?'

'Yes, I see it,' I replied. 'I don't know how you could spare yourself, but it does not seem right that you should be entirely worn out.'

'Yes, it is right,' answered she; 'a life saved now is of as much consequence as one saved next year. I am useful at this time, for I understand my profession; but others are learning the art of nursing in no feeble school, and if I die, you will find plenty of new comers ready to fill my place.'

I knew from this that she anticipated the result, yet neither did I myself see how it could be avoided; but I resolved to watch and spare her all I could.

During all the year, notwithstanding her unceasing cares, she had kept herself well informed on public affairs. She knew every incident of the war, and particularly all its moral defeats and victories. At one time defeats of both kinds seemed to come thick and fast. She would shudder sometimes, as she laid down the newspaper, and say: 'This prolongs the war such a time;' weeks, months, or years, as it might be; but she never was really disheartened. She did not doubt that the contest, when it did come to a conclusion, would end in the triumph of the right, in the triumph of freedom, in the regeneration of the nation; and her courage never yielded, her resolution never faltered, till one day in the latter part of May.

She went out then in the afternoon to breathe the fresh air she so much needed, but in a half hour came back with a new look in her face. A stern, forbidding expression did not leave her during the day, and at night she tossed about on her bed, wakeful and disturbed. At length she rose, and sat for more than an hour by the window in the darkness, seeking that peace which had left her so unaccountably. A new thought, in time, took possession of her. She went back, and slept. In the morning she called me to her, and told me that on the previous day she had seen a black man knocked down in the streets of Washington and carried in chains to slavery. Then she said in earnest tones: 'Child' (she always called me child, though I was not much younger than herself), 'have you in your life done all that you could do against this abomination?'

'No,' said I.

'You hate it?' She asked; 'you understand its vileness, and hate it?'

'Yes, I do now, from the bottom of my heart.'

'Will you not promise me that until you die, you will, regardless of self, use every effort in your power against it?'

'I will, in all solemness and truth.'

She was satisfied, and said no more, for she never wasted words, and I recognized this as her legacy to me. The next day she was taken ill. I immediately sent for Mrs. Simmons, who thought she would be able to take her home with her; but before she arrived, I saw it would not be possible. Her only hope of recovery was in remaining where she was.

Mrs. Simmons came, and Miss Sunderland, notwithstanding our careful preparations, was so overcome with emotion at meeting her old friend, that for some time she could scarcely speak. After this warmth of feeling had subsided, she looked up in her face with a pleasant smile, and said:

'I was well named, after all. I have entered into the joy of my Lord.'

The next day she had an earnest talk with her friend on the present state of the country. Her faith had returned through intuition, but the grasp of her intellect was weakened by disease, and she could not see clearly the grounds of it. Mrs. Simmons, though she had, like the rest of us, seasons of doubt, was in a very hopeful mood that morning, hopeful for our leading men, for the common people, and for the tendency of events; and she explained the reasons for her belief that the enormities of that period were no new crime, but a remnant of the old not to be eradicated at once, any more than it is possible for an individual to turn from great baseness to real goodness without some backslidings, even after the most unmistakable of conversions. Miss Sunderland was satisfied, the future again became clear to her, and after that she seemed to lose interest in the details of affairs. Her thoughts and conversation were filled with heaven and a regenerated earth.

We clung to hope as long as possible, but she herself saw the end of the disease from the beginning. She talked with us, and with the soldiers who were permitted to see her, as long as she was able. Wise words she spoke, and words ever to be remembered; but at last weakness overcame her, and her life was but a succession of gasps. One morning, after being unconscious for many hours, she opened her eyes wide and looked at us. She glanced from one to the other, and then, fixing her gaze on Mrs. Simmons, said:

'Mary, I am glad—I am glad'—but she was too weak, she could not finish the sentence. Again she essayed. We heard the words 'frightfully homely,' but we could not catch the rest. The light faded from her eyes, and we thought we had seen the last expression of that wise and vigorous mind; but the next day the bright, conscious look came again into her face, but it gave no evidence of recognition, though ardent affection sought eagerly for it. For a moment she lay still, and then said, in a feeble but distinct voice:

'It is better to enter into life maimed and halt than, having two hands and two feet, to be cast into hell.' A half hour afterward she said softly, as if to herself:

'The joy of my Lord.'

They were her last words. She relapsed into unconsciousness, and lingered till the dawn of the next day, when she went to join that glorious and still-increasing band of martyrs who have been found worthy to die for our country.

SIMONY

 
Thou hast diamonds and emeralds and greenbacks,
    Thou hast more than a mortal can crave;
Thou canst make a big pile, yet be honest,
    Contractor—oh, why wilt thou shave?
 

NATIONAL ODE

SUGGESTED BY THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION OF JANUARY 1, 1863

I

 
Shine forth upon the earth,
Bright day of dedicated birth,
    And breathe in thundering accents thy command!
A mighty nation's heart awake,
Her self-enwoven fetters shake,
    And vivify the pulses of the land!
            Arising from the past
            With stormy clouds o'ercast,
And darkened by a long-enduring night,
The Future's child and Freedom's—seraph bright!
Arise great day, and legions of the free,
Beneath thy conquering flag, lead forth to victory.
 

II

 
Great Freedom dead! Foul thought
From lies of vaunting Treason caught,
    And Fear's pale minions, wrapped in sorrow's pall.
Great Freedom dead! In God-like power,
'Tis Freedom rules e'en this dread hour,
    And guides the tempest 'neath whose blows we fall.
            Yea! War and Anarchy
            Discord and Slavery,
And drunken Death, and all these tears
Shaking our hearts with unaccustomed fears—
E'en these are Freedom, waiting to arise
In glad eternal triumph from her foul disguise.
 

III

 
Our country's glory slain!
Her kingdom rent and torn in twain!
    Her strong foundations crumbling into dust!
With Truth's shield armed, and sword of light,
Speak thou, Columbia, in thy might,
    Unharmed by thy false children's hate and lust.
            Arise—no more betrayed
            By fears too long obeyed,
And bid, from shore to distant shore,
Ten million voices, like the ocean's roar,
In one full chorus gloriously proclaim
The pride and splendor of thy star-immortal fame.
 

IV

 
Arise! no more delay!
Arise! For this triumphant day
    Shall crush the serpent cherished in thy breast.
E'en now the slimy coils unfold,
The venomed folds relax their hold,
    The tooth is drawn that stung thee from thy rest.
            Arise! For with a groan
            Falls Slavery from his throne!
While, seizing Song's immortal lyre,
And girt afar with Heaven's Promethean fire,
Eternal Freedom, winged with prophecy,
Awakes, in swelling chords, the Anthem of the Free.
 

V

 
No more Conspiracy,
With Treason linked and Anarchy,
    Shall dig, with secret joy, their country's grave.
No more thy waning cheek shall pale,
Thy trembling limbs with terror fail,
    Thy bleeding wounds Heaven's balsam vainly crave.
            Uplift thy forehead fair,
            And mark the monstrous snare
Of subtle foes, who sucked thy fainting breath,
And yielding thee to the embrace of death,
Awaited the fulfilment of their reign,
To shed thy lovely limbs dismembered o'er the plain.
 

VI

 
No more, degenerate,
And heedless of their darkening fate,
    Shall thine own children revel in thy woes—
Enchained to Mammon's loathsome car,
Led on by War's red, baleful star,
    No longer shall they sell thee to thy foes—
            No more abandoned, bare,
            Piercing with shrieks the air,
Thy millioned slaves shall lift on high
Their black, blank faces, dragging from the sky
The curse, which, riding on the viewless wind,
Sweeps Ruin's hurricane o'er all of human kind.
 

VII

 
No longer in sad scorn
Shall Freedom wander forth forlorn,
    Forsaking her false kingdom in the West,
Quitting a world too sunk in crime
To heed that glorious light sublime—
    No longer shall she hide her burning crest—
            No more her children's cries
            In vain appeal shall rise,
While ruthless War's fierce earthquake shocks
With throes convulsive thy dominion's rock,
And tyrants, in their proud halls, celebrate
The anguish of a nation tottering to her fate.
 

VIII

 
Thy courts no more defiled,
Thy people's hearts no more beguiled!
    What foes, what dangers shall Columbia fear?
Prosperity and holy Peace
Within thy borders shall increase—
    The Future's dawning glory draweth near!
            The vine-clad South shall rest
            Upon her brother's breast,
And, smiling in the glory of his worth,
Her teeming wealth and sunny gifts poured forth,
While tributes of the world's full treasures blent
With tides of plenty lave the love-girt continent!
 

IX

 
Joy! Joy! Awake the strain,
And still repeat the glad refrain
    Of Liberty, resounding to the sky.
Around thee float thy sacred dead,
Whose martyr blood for thee was shed,
    Whose angel choirs, celestial, hover nigh!
            Joy! Joy! No longer weep:
            Rich harvests shalt thou reap,
Whose seeds, in tears and anguish sown,
With bounteous rapture thy rich feasts shall crown,
When, rising to fulfil thy destiny,
Thou leadest the nations on to Peace and Liberty.
 

X

 
Hail then to thee, great day,
Bright herald of the coming sway
    Of Truth immortal and immortal Love—
Uplift in fuller strains thy voice,
Call all the nations to rejoice,
    And grasp thy olive—Time's long-promised dove!
            No longer tempest-tost,
            Redeem dark ages lost;
And may the work by thee begun
Ne'er pause nor falter 'till yon rising sun
Beholds the flag of Promise, now unfurled
'Neath Freedom's conquering smile, extending o'er the world.
 

THE SURRENDER OF FORTS JACKSON AND ST. PHILIP, ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI

A complete history of the bombardment and subsequent surrender of Forts Jackson and St. Philip, and of the brilliant passage of our fleet up the Mississippi river, which resulted in the capitulation of New Orleans, is yet wanting, to afford the public a full comprehension of all the attendant circumstances, respecting which there appears to have been some misunderstanding. The daring exploit of running by the forts must be recorded as another evidence of the historic valor and coolness of the American navy. No less renown will attach in future times to the bombardment of the forts by the mortar fleet, conducted as it was entirely on scientific principles, and proving the efficiency of mortars, when used with discretion and with a knowledge of the localities. The great destruction in the forts was only fully ascertained after the surrender, and shows that the success of the fleet, in passing them safely, depended, in a great measure, upon the inability of greater resistance on the part of Fort Jackson.

A number of vessels, comprising the 'Western Gulf Squadron,' were commanded by comparatively young officers, and that very important branch of the same, the mortar flotilla, was mostly under the individual guidance of captains (acting masters) selected from the merchant marine. It became necessary for the navy department to select a commander-in-chief (flag officer) and a commander for the mortar flotilla, possessed of such qualities as to manage and render effective the various branches of this peculiar combination of armed vessels, as well as to inspire confidence and give satisfaction to their respective commands.

The appointment of Captain David G. Farragut as flag officer of the squadron, was acknowledged as a judicious one. He was popular in his fleet, and has realized the expectations of the country. His personal bravery was demonstrated during the hazardous passage of the forts—while his ship was enveloped in flames, kindled from an opposing fire raft—by his dashing attack on the Chalmette forts near New Orleans, and his speedy reduction of the city.

The choice of a suitable commander for the mortar flotilla was less difficult, inasmuch as this little fleet was a creation of the officer who was chosen as its leader. David D. Porter, for gallantry and ingenuity, for theoretical and practical seamanship, and for general popularity among the officers of his own rank and date, has no superior in the navy, and his appointment to this command was truly fortunate.

The squadron, after having rendezvoused at Key West and Ship Island, arrived without any material detention, at the South West Pass of the Mississippi. A want of acquaintance with the changes in the bar, occasioned probably by the sinking of four or five rafts, flatboats, and an old dry dock by the enemy, resulted in some delays, but the whole squadron at length, with the exception of the frigate Colorado, got safely over, and anchored twelve miles up the river at the head of the passes.

The efficiency of mortars, elevated permanently at forty-five degrees, depends chiefly upon an accurate knowledge of the distance to the object to be fired upon. This distance determines the quantity of powder necessary for the discharge, and the length of the fuses to be employed. Captain Porter understood the impossibility of judging and estimating distances and bearings correctly, particularly when the objects are for the most part hidden from view, as was the case with the forts on the wooded and crooked Mississippi, and had therefore requested of the department the aid of a party from the U. S. coast survey, and the writer of these notes had been detailed by Prof. A. D. Bache, the superintendent of that work. One acting assistant, two sub-assistants, and one aid were attached to the party, and the steam gunboat Sachem was placed at their disposal. This vessel arrived in the Mississippi on the 11th of April. Captain Porter at once requested Mr. Gerdes to furnish a reliable survey of several miles of the river, below and including the fortifications. In this service a number of gunboats belonging to the fleet and to the mortar flotilla accompanied the Sachem, partly to afford protection, and partly to draw the enemy's attention from the operations of the surveyors. Mr. Gerdes commenced work with his party on the 13th of April, and continuing for five consecutive days, made a reliable map of the river and its shores from the 'Jump' to and including Forts Jackson and St. Philip, with their outworks and water batteries; the hulks, supporting the chain across the river, and every singular and distinguishable object along its banks. The survey was made by triangulation carried forward simultaneously on both sides of the river. Two coast survey signals were found, the 'Jump telegraph post,' and 'Salt-work's chimney top,' of which the geodetic relations were known, and the work was founded upon a base line connecting these two points. Sub-assistant Oltmanns, and Mr. Bowie as aid, were detailed for the west shore, Mr. Gerdes and acting assistant Harris taking the eastern side, while sub-assistant Halter observed angles from permanent stations. The angular measurements were made with all kinds of instruments found suitable to the locality. Only a few of the stations were on solid ground, nearly all the shore being overflowed. Frequently the members of the party were compelled to mount their instruments on the chimney tops of dilapidated houses. In other places boats were run under overhanging trees on the shore, in which signal flags were hoisted, and the angles measured below with sextants. It was very satisfactory, however, that the last measurement determined (leading to the flagstaff on St. Philip) agreed almost identically with the location given by the coast survey several years ago. It seemed to be a regular occupation of the garrison in the fort, to destroy, during the night-time, the marks and signals which were left daily by the party; and for this reason, Mr. Gerdes caused numbered posts to be set in the river banks, and screened with grass and reeds so that they could not be found by the enemy in the dark. From these marks, which were separately determined, he was enabled to furnish to Captain Porter the distances and bearings, from almost any point on the river to the forts, and by the resulting data the commander selected the positions for his mortar vessels.

On the 17th day of April the mortar schooners were moved to their designated positions, and the exact distances and bearings of each vessel being ascertained from the map, were furnished to the respective captains. Then the bombardment fairly commenced, and was continued, with only slight intermission, for six days. Twice Captain Porter ordered some of the vessels to change their positions when he found localities that would answer better; the coast survey party furnished the new data required. From the schooners, which were fastened to the trees on the riverside, none of the works of the enemy were visible, but the exact station of each vessel and its distance and bearings from the forts had been ascertained from the chart. The mortars were accordingly charged and pointed and the fuses regulated. Thus the bombardment was conducted entirely upon theoretical principles, and as such with its results, presents perhaps a new feature in naval warfare. When the whole number of shells discharged from the flotilla is compared with those that fell and left their marks on the dry parts of Fort Jackson (to which must be added, in the same ratio, all those falling in the submerged parts), the precision of the firing appears truly remarkable, and must command our highest admiration, particularly when we consider that every shot was fired upon a computed aim.

During the days of the bombardment, the exact damage done to the forts could not be ascertained. A deserter from the garrison came to the fleet and stated that Jackson was a complete wreck, but his information was considered rather doubtful. After six days' firing, when the forts showed no disposition to surrender, and when our stock of ammunition was considerably reduced, Captain Porter submitted to the flag officer a plan for passing with the fleet between the forts. The order to pass the forts was given on the 23d of April, and a favorable reference in this order was made to Captain Porter's plan. On the morning of the 24th of April, at three o'clock, the fleet got under weigh. The steam gunboats of the flotilla ran up close to the western fort and engaged the water battery and the rampart guns, and from the mortar vessels a shower of shells was thrown into the besieged work. This bombardment made it impossible for the leaders of the enemy to keep their men on the ramparts. Three times they broke, although they were twice driven back to their guns at the point of the bayonet. From Fort St. Philip a much greater resistance was offered to the ships in their passage up between the works, as that fort had not been (comparatively speaking) so effectively attacked, nor had it suffered previously nearly so much as the other from the mortars of Captain Porter. That the resistance of Jackson was much slighter on this occasion, is further demonstrated, by the fact, that our ships received little injury from the port side (Fort Jackson), while nearly all the shot holes were found to be on the starboard, the Fort Philip side.

After the fleet had thus passed the stronghold of the enemy, and destroyed ten or twelve of his armed steamers, the famous ram 'Manassas' among them, Captain Farragut gallantly ascended the river, took and occupied the quarantine, where he paroled the garrison, and then continued his course for New Orleans. In the mean time, it had been ascertained, that the iron-clad battery Louisiana, fourteen guns, and two or three other armed steamers of the enemy were still unharmed near the forts, and it appeared therefore precarious, for Captain Porter to remain with his mortar schooners (all sailing vessels) quite unprotected and liable to momentary attack from such overpowering structures. He consequently despatched them to the gulf, to watch and cut off in the rear all communication with the forts, while he remained with the few steam gunboats of the flotilla, at the station occupied during the bombardment. The Sachem, commanded by Mr. Gerdes, he had sent east of Fort St. Philip, to aid Major-General Butler in landing troops by the back bayou, leading to the quarantine. This duty was successfully executed by the coast survey party. They sounded the channel, and buoyed it out with lamps, and thus facilitated the landing of about one thousand five hundred soldiers during the night in boats and launches of the transports.

By this time, flag officer Admiral Farragut had successfully silenced the extensive batteries of Chalmette, and finally appeared with his fleet before New Orleans.

List of the Mortar Flotilla, attached to the Western Gulf Squadron, under the command of Com. D. D. Porter.

List of Vessels and Officers commanding them, that passed up the river:

When this fact became known to General J. K. Duncan, he accepted terms for the surrender of Forts Jackson and St. Philip to Commodore Porter. While negotiations were progressing on board the 'Harriet Lane,' between our own and the confederate officers, (that vessel, and the Westfield, Clifton, Jackson, and Owasco, were at anchor between the two forts, each carrying a large white flag at the masthead,) the leaders of the enemy's marine forces set fire to the iron-clad battery Louisiana, cast her loose, and sent her adrift straight for our fleet. This dishonorable act on the part of the enemy during a time of truce, and while their own officers were in consultation with the commander of our forces, on board of a United States vessel, might have resulted in a very serious disaster to us, had not the magazine of the Louisiana exploded before she reached the fleet, which it did in full view of our vessels, and not far off. This explosion was succeeded by a crash, presenting a scene such as has been rarely witnessed. After this fearful episode, the capitulation was concluded, and both the forts, the garrison, the armament, ammunition, stock, and provisions, were formally surrendered to Commander Porter, of the mortar flotilla, and transferred by him, on the next day, to Major-General Butler, commanding the United States army in the Department of the Gulf.

Many contradictory opinions existed regarding the actual damage inflicted by the bombardment, as well as by the broadside fire of the passing fleet; and, Captain Porter desired Mr. Gerdes to make such a survey of Fort Jackson, as would settle all doubts touching the matter in question. Under his supervision, Acting Assistant Harris, aided by the other members of his party, traced in their corresponding places on the large existing detailed plan of the fort, all the injuries arising from the attack. Every hole in the ground, (whether caused by the mortar shells or round shot,) break in the walls, crack in the masonry, each gun dismantled or disabled, the burnt citadel, the hospital and outbuildings, the destroyed bridges and injured magazines, were noted by actual measurement.

The levees, which before the attack had kept the high water of the Mississippi from entering the fort, were found destroyed in numerous places by bomb-shells. Much of the area of the fort was in consequence overflowed. The number of balls and shells which fell in the inundated parts, was estimated from the proportion found in the dry parts. In the plan, the submerged parts were distinctly marked, and it plainly shows, that hardly one quarter of the whole area remained dry or above the level of the water.

From this survey the following statistics are gathered:

It is further ascertained from this survey, that the armament of the fort consisted of fifty 32-pounders, seven columbiads, ten short guns, three rifle guns, two brass field pieces, and three mortars, in all seventy-five guns.

The following are extracts from Mr. Harris' report to Assistant Gerdes, accompanying the plan, which was published by the Navy Department:

'My informant, (an intelligent and reliable eyewitness,) voluntarily gave the credit of reducing the forts to the bomb fleet. The fort was so much shaken by this firing, that it was feared the casemates would come down about their ears. The loss of life by the bombs was not great, as they could see them coming plainly, and avoid them, but the effect of their fall and explosion no skill could avert.

'About one shell in twenty failed to explode; even those that fell in the water going off. It is worth noticing, that the bombs that fell in the ditches close to the walls of the fort and exploded there, shook the fort much more severely, than any of those that buried themselves in the soft ground.

'The fort was in perfect order when the bombardment commenced, the dirt which now disfigures everything is the accumulation of a few days. The water did not enter the fort until the levee had been broken by the bombs; during the summer of 1861, when the Mississippi was even higher, the parade ground remained entirely dry.'

The above statistics and information show, that the surrender of the forts was caused by the terrific bombardment of the mortar fleet, a fact which should always remain identified with the brilliant achievements, that ended in the recapture of the second commercial city of our country.