Although the Civil War furnished many instances of conspicuous gallantry, so many that most of them remain to-day comparatively unknown, none was more notable than the torpedo exploit of Lieutenant William Barker Cushing. There have been several similar expeditions in our naval history. Before Tripoli, Richard Somers made the ill-fated attempt with the “Intrepid,” and in the war with Spain, Richmond Hobson sunk the “Merrimac.” There is no question that the personal and sentimental aspects of these three hazardous enterprises are similar. All three men were young, and each one knew that he took his life in his hands. Somers, rather than be captured with his powder, destroyed both his ship and himself. Hobson sunk the “Merrimac,” but did not succeed in getting her athwart the channel. Cushing, in a torpedo-launch, went under the guns of the enemy, and escaped both death and imprisonment. On the enemy the moral effect of all three exploits must have been the same. Professionally,[159] Cushing’s exploit has just this distinction: he was successful. Like Decatur in the recapture of the “Philadelphia,” he carried out in every detail the plans he had made. And upon his success the way was opened for the union fleet, and the hopes of the Confederates fled, for only two seaports in the South—Charleston and Wilmington—remained open to them.
After the great success of the “Merrimac” in Hampton Roads, the Confederates determined to construct a vessel of similar design for use in the Southern rivers and sounds. Under great difficulties they built the “Albemarle” on the Roanoke River, and carried her into action almost before the last rivet was driven. She was a formidable craft in those days, and the shots from the vessels of the Northern fleet went harmlessly against her iron sides to break and fly into a thousand pieces. On the 5th of May the “Albemarle” had another fight with a larger fleet of union vessels, which had gathered to hem in and disable her. During the action the “Sassacus” saw an opportunity to ram her, and, going ahead at full speed, struck the ram a terrific blow amidships. The bow of the “Sassacus” was literally torn to pieces by the impact, and the “Albemarle,” though heeling over and in[160] danger of sinking for a time, finally righted and pulled out of the action uninjured, but by no means disabled. All of the vessels of the squadron kept up a heavy fire upon her, but she went on to her anchorage up the river, where a few repairs made her as good as ever.
It looked to the unionists as though the story of the “Merrimac” with the “Congress” and the “Cumberland” was about to be repeated; that the “Albemarle” in course of time would come down at her leisure and destroy all Northern vessels in those waters. To make matters worse, the unionists learned that another vessel of a similar type was nearly completed, and that the two vessels would attack at the same time,—a combination which, with their consorts, seemed irresistible. Something had to be done if the command of the sounds of the Carolinas was to remain with the navy of the North.
But during the summer of 1864 two steam launches rigged up as torpedo-boats, the invention of Engineer J. L. Long, were fitted out at New York and brought down through the canals to Albemarle Sound. The bows of the boats were cut under and decked over, and the engines were so built that when covered and moving at a low rate of speed they made little or no noise. A spar ten or fifteen[161] feet long, which carried a torpedo and a firing attachment, projected forward over the bow, and a small howitzer was also mounted forward where it would be useful to repel attack.
The government had decided to make a night attempt on the “Albemarle,” and the honor of the command of the expedition was bestowed on Lieutenant Cushing, who had half a dozen times before received the thanks of the secretary of the navy for gallantry in action off Cape Fear River.
The expedition was favored by the inactivity of the Confederates. The “Albemarle” lay alongside the dock at Plymouth awaiting the completion of her sister-ship, but this needless delay gave Cushing the opportunity he wanted.
The Confederates were fully aware of the plans of the unionist’s navy, and a thousand soldiers remained to guard the “Albemarle” from land attack as well as to act as sentries for a distance along the river bank. To provide against torpedoes, a line of great cypress logs was boomed off her sides at a distance of twenty to thirty feet, so that it seemed impossible to come within striking distance. Besides this, the smaller guns of the ram were trained up and down the river,—which here was but one hundred and fifty yards wide,—to sweep[162] the entire area over which the attacking party had to pass.
But Cushing, like Decatur, rejoiced at obstacles. He was only twenty-one, but he carried a man’s head on his broad shoulders, and the planning of such an expedition down to the smallest detail was a task which he entered into with judgment and enthusiasm, ingredients as rare as they are necessary in such a desperate enterprise.
After a week spent in preparation and experiment, the gunboat “Otsego” brought the launch to the mouth of the river, where Cushing cast off and pointed his bow toward Plymouth, towing a cutter full of armed men, who were to capture, if possible, a Confederate guard,—which had been set in a schooner near the sunken “Southfield,”—to prevent their giving the alarm. But the expedition started badly, for the launch ran aground on a bar. Before Cushing could float her again it was too late to make the attempt. Cushing and his boat’s crews then returned to the “Otsego.”
The next night was black and squally, with occasional showers of rain. They could only make out the loom of the shore by straining their eyes into the darkness. Cushing was as cool as though taking shore-liberty. As he[163] shook hands with the “Otsego’s” officers he paused at the gangway to say, with a laugh,—
“Well, here goes for another stripe or a coffin.”
They crept slowly up the river, keeping close to the bank, under the shadow of the reeds and trees. The little engine, covered with tarpaulins, made so little sound that the men in the cutter towing astern could hardly hear it. There was not a sound except the plashing of the gusts of rain and the ripple of the water as the little craft moved steadily on. Cushing knew he must be passing some of the pickets now, so not a word even in whispers was spoken. Every man had his duty and knew when to do it. Acting Ensign William Howarth was aft at Cushing’s side. Acting Master’s Mate John Woodman, who knew the river, was next to him. The other officers were Acting Master’s Mate Tho............