We are on the Waters Muddy: Taking Memphis Aboard the U.S.S. Benton

Moses Farnsworth, a former infantryman with the 15th Illinois, joined the crew of the ironclad gunboat U.S.S. Benton in the spring of 1862 as part of the deck force. What he saw in the aftermath of the Battle of Memphis underscores that service in the brown water Navy was just as bloody as fighting upon land. 

    Describing the C.S.S. Beauregard, he wrote "the steam from the boilers scalded four poor firemen in a most shocking manner. One who went on board immediately after the fight says the spectacle afforded by these sufferers exceeded anything he ever saw before and was enough to tear the most unfeeling heart. They implored him to give them relief, but all the relief which could be afforded was produced by the application of flour, sprinkled very lightly upon them. So completely had the steam penetrated the flesh that it hung in shreds upon their bones, the least touch or motion causing it to fall off entirely! As we passed her, she was sinking rapidly with steam escaping from all sides. I only saw one man aboard her; he sat on the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and forecastle begrimed with powder and apparently wounded. He had lost his cap and his appearance was sad and heart-rending in the extreme."

    Three letters written by Farnsworth, serving as sergeant in charge of infantry forces aboard the U.S.S. Benton, appeared in the June 14th and June 21, 1862, editions of the Weekly Waukegan Gazette. 

 

Moses Farnsworth of the U.S.S. Benton sits besides his turn of the century Edison phonograph. The wall of cylinders behind him were played upon the phonograph and each cylinder had about four minutes worth of music. One wonders if Farnsworth enjoyed listening to patriotic airs, classical music, or even ragtime! Farnsworth joined the Benton from the ranks of Co. I of the 15th Illinois early in 1862 and remained with the vessel for the remainder of his three-year term of service. Among his comrades from Co. I who joined the brown water navy included Corporal Walter Muir aboard the Illinois, Ephraim Hawthorn aboard the Cincinnati, and Edwin Crane who served as ship's cook aboard the Benton. A native of Vermont, Farnsworth moved to Waukegan, Illinois in 1853 with his parents, joining the 15th Illinois in the summer of 1861. Farnsworth lived until 1933, passing away at age 94 in Kansas, the father of 13 children who at the time of his decease had 28 grandchildren and 17 great-grandchildren living! 

Onboard the Benton, above Fort Pillow, Tennessee

June 1, 1862

          We are not out on the ocean blue but are on the waters muddy and space to us as impassable as the oceans intervenes between us and home. Mementoes from friends at the fireside awaken emotions in our bosoms which those who have never been in circumstances with ourselves cannot realize.

          I wrote you in my last letter that appearances indicated a speedy attack on Fort Pillow. These appearances are not indicative of an attack at present as they were then, but to be sure, a hunter becomes more quiet and watchful the nearer he approaches his game. The boats are busy getting their vulnerable parts better protected with railroad iron. The experience of May 10^th [the Battle of Plum Point Bend, click here to read more] taught us that the Rebel fleet is not to be despised altogether. We whipped them soundly as it was, however, and would have done so more completely if they had stayed and fought it out.

          We learn from deserters (who by the way are constantly arriving) that the Rebels are out of coal which forces them to use wood exclusively. We also hear that Farragut’s fleet was within 108 miles of Memphis several days ago and that the Rebels have fallen back to Jackson, Mississippi. But as both are rumors or “hammock dispatches” as we call them, we put little reliance in them.

          The mortars on our side and the big guns on the Rebels still continue their harmless practice of pitching shells at each other. Harmless I say as I mean harmless on our side as we do not know the effect of our shells upon the Rebels. We move a couple of mortars below us a half a mile or so every morning, protecting them by as many gunboats and then bang away. They generally return shot for shot, which burst in the air somewhere in the vicinity with a loud explosion, producing much smoke and noise but doing no damage.

          The river is every day receding from its banks and we can now see a line of sand and driftwood which by contrast is more agreeable than the sluggish, eternally flowing water which was all we could see before. Today we have had muster and the church service read which has been the second time since Commodore Foote went away. A fine breeze flutters the clean banners which are hoisted every Sunday morning. The fleet presents quite a holiday appearance. It is also quite cool; made so by a fine shower we had last night.

 

The U.S.S. Benton was commissioned into the U.S. Navy in February 1862 after being converted from a civilian-owned center wheel catamaran snagboat known as Submarine No. 7. The 633-ton vessel was 202 feet long and 72 feet abeam and carried 16 cannons, a mix of smoothbores and rifles. 

On board the Benton, opposite Fort Pillow, Tennessee

June 5, 1862

          Since writing my last, the fleet has changed positions and we hope for the better. Fort Pillow has been evacuated by the Rebels and is now in our possession. Why it came into our possession without a fierce battle is undoubtedly owing to strategy, but not strategy emanating from our flag officer, but the strategy of the generals commanding the land forces before Corinth. The evacuation of Corinth would isolate this point and render it useless to the Rebels. On the other hand, with the enemy still in possession of Corinth, reducing Fort Pillow and pushing on to Memphis would isolate our fleet in a measure and bring us no good. Hence, it appears that our fleet before Fort Pillow was placed more to menace than reduce it, and our apparent inactivity was to say the least a masterly one and produced the exact results which were desired.

          Our boats were rapidly being shielded in their weak parts by the application of railroad iron which would effectually prevent a reoccurrence of the scenes of May 10^th. The fleet was also increased by the arrival or six or more powerful rams. We expect within the week to see the Essex, Cincinnati, and perhaps the Eastport which rumor said was to be the flagship. Troops were being concentrated at this point to cooperate with us whenever the flag officer should be ready to proceed to business and what was more to the point, a mail had been sent on board for Farragut’s fleet to be delivered whenever convenient. Before we were all ready for active hostilities, however, reliable news came of the evacuation of Corinth.

          Tuesday morning our cavalry captured a party of 7 men who were in the act of taking ice from the icehouse located on a plantation near the fort. From these prisoners we learned that the fort was evacuated the night before, leaving only 18-20 men to keep up appearances. This some believed and others did not; but at all events, two rams went down the same day to reconnoiter. The Rebels at once opened fire upon them and continued until they had fired 40 rounds or more. At this, the rams retired.

          The same evening, two Rebel gunboats came in sight around the point, but they soon fell back as the fire from the Cairo and Mound City was too warm for them. We also prepared to go down to give them a reception but through some delay we did not even start. The firing from the fort and the approach of the Rebel gunboats weakened belief in the prisoners’ story but as they still insisted on the truth of these statements, the flag officer prepared to go down at once and occupy the place.

This drawing shows the interior of the Benton with the center wheel protected by an iron shell. As Farnsworth notes in his letter, additional railroad iron was added to the vessel in late May 1862 to provide extra armor protection, employing lessons learned at the Battle of Plum Point Bend. 

          On Wednesday, scouts from the land forces were sent to obtain as much information as possible of affairs going on in and around the fort. About sunset they returned and announced the complete evacuation of the fort, nothing being visible anywhere around. At the same time, smoke was seen rising from the vicinity of the fort and a glow like flame tinted the clouds above, giving them a very beautiful appearance. We at once came to the conclusion that the Rebels had fired the place and this was verified when the tug Jessee returned with the information that everything which the Rebels did not wish to take away such as wood, gun carriages, and barracks, was in flames.

          Early Thursday morning, we upped anchor, signaled to the fleet to get under way, and steamed down to Fort Pillow. Two rams preceded us and upon our arrival we found the stars and stripes floating over the fort. Nothing was to be seen around the parapets except here and there a dismounted gun which the Rebels had left burning in their carriages. It is impossible to accurately describe the batteries. They were, for the most part, water batteries rising in height from the water’s edge. The battery on the extreme summit of the bluff may have been 70 feet above the low water mark. The guns were generally 32-pounders but that had one 123-pounder in a casemate. Reports are very conflicting in regard to the number of guns mounted, but as near as I can get at the truth I judge there were about 24 guns.

          Chickasaw Bluffs upon which the fort is placed, the first of three ranges of high land between Cairo and Memphis, takes its name from the Chickasaw tribe of Indians who held possession of this region of the Mississippi when Memphis was first commenced by the French as a trading post. The bluffs rise abruptly from the river 100 feet or more and, in contrast to the low-level shore between this point and Memphis, present quite a bold and picturesque appearance. Cool Creek discharges its waters into the Mississippi at its base and has piled up quite a sand creek in the middle of the stream. The river at this point is very narrow, so narrow that to use a sailor’s phrase, you can toss a biscuit across it. Altogether the place by nature is very strong and with batteries well mounted with guns of an improved pattern and manned with determined and experienced crews, it would be almost impregnable. As it was, a land force of 1,000 men cooperating with our fleet would have reduced it in two hours.

 

Lieutenant Seth Ledyard Phelps commanded the U.S.S. Benton during the naval battle of Memphis and later sent back the captured flag of the C.S.S. General Bragg to Governor David Tod of Ohio. 

On board the Benton, off Memphis, Tennessee

June 12, 1862

          The last time I wrote you we were before the fortifications of Fort Pillow. Since that time, however, events of the greatest interest and importance have transpired. I was fortunate to be somewhat a participator in those events. About 1 p.m. Thursday we turned our prows downstream and resumed our voyage to Memphis. Cultivation now began to be visible at intervals and an occasional plantation with its rows of negro huts, some looking neat and pretty but more of them looking untidy and dilapidated.

          The town of Randolph offered us no molestation; indeed, the stars and stripes were already floating over almost the only house in the place as we passed. Further down the river, the vandalism of the Rebels was seen in the cotton which was floating in the stream or burning upon the shore. Quantities of it had caught on the roots projecting from the shore and now lay in heaps on the banks where it had been placed by the greedy.

          At Island No. 37, we fell in with a Rebel transport which we at once opened fire upon but, it being fleeter than ourselves, came very near escaping. Lieutenant Bishop saw the danger and by the permission of the flag officer at once selected a few men, got upon the tug Spitfire which had mounted upon it a 12-pounder howitzer, and gave chase. A bend in the stream soon hid them from our sight, but it was not long before we heard several reports of the piece and we concluded the Spitfire had overhauled her. This proved correct for upon rounding the bend, the steamer was seen run upon the shore with the tug alongside. The stars and stripes floated over her and she proved to be the steamer Sovereign.

          At about 9 p.m. we anchored a couple of miles above in Memphis in plain view of the lights of the city and the Rebel fleet. Everything was silent as a grave, save an occasional puff-choo of a Rebel transport of the whistle of an arriving or departing locomotive. To us the scene partook of the romantic for Memphis, the furthest Thule of our dreams, enveloped in the haze of twilight, lay before us.

"Our gunboats kept close down the left shore of the Tennessee side and as the Rebels crossed over to meet them, they left the right side on the Arkansas shore clear. Our rams were then signaled to run down the right shore and get in below or the rear of the Rebel fleet, and thus cut off their retreat. This was also accomplished in a very handsome manner." ~ Chief Engineer William G. McFarland, U.S.S. Cincinnati

          The sky was cloudless on the morning of June 6, 1862, and the sun robing itself in the rainbows of the morning for the 10,000^th time, glanced lovingly down upon the lovely city. Nothing in nature betokened a storm or conflict. We eagerly paced the quarterdecks of our respective crafts, Union and Confederate, prepared for the dread encounter about to take place. At 4:30 in the morning, the Rebel fleet, after maneuvering for some time seemingly undecided whether to fight or run, took a position opposite the landing at the city and opened fire upon us. The first shot came from the Little Rebel and continued for some time before we replied. None of them took effect, however, indeed, they flew so wife of their mark that they struck a quarter of a mile behind us. Finding that they meany to fight just where they were regardless of the lives or property of the citizens of the city, we finally opened our batteries upon them in return and steamed slowly down towards then in line of battle with the Benton taking the lead as usual.

          The engagement had not been long commenced when our rams, the Queen of the West and Monarch with the former in the lead, dashed boldly out from the rest of the fleet and made for the enemy with all speed. Our fire intuitively slackened and we waited with feverish anxiety for the result. It was a bold undertaking and skillfully performed. Higher and higher curled the thick smoke from the smokestacks of the Queen of the West, faster and faster she went until her wheels boiled the water like a furnace and she almost flew. Getting in close proximity to the foe, she aimed a blow at General Lovell and struck her so squarely and tremendously that her sharp bow went nine feet into Lovell’s side, and sank her at once in the deep water, clear out of sight.

The Battle of Memphis showing the destruction of the Confederate river fleet under the command of  James E. Montgomery. The citizens of Memphis had a front row seat watching from Chickasaw Bluff. 

          While thus entangled in the crushed, broken, and sinking timbers of the Lovell, the Beauregard bore down and gave the Queen of the West a punch in her wheel which disabled it. But though disabled, she was not whipped and scorning to strike her colors, she nobly worked her way to the Arkansas shore with one wheel only and there remained for the rest of the fight.

          The other ram, the Monarch, had worked her way as fast as possible after the Queen of the West now arrived at the scene of the ramming. The Beauregard and Price seeing her at hand, also made for her and the three rapidly near each other. The Monarch, anticipating their object and knowing that her best policy was to use a little sternway, reversed her engines and backed out from the blows intended for her by the two Rebel boats. The caused the Price and Beauregard to come together quite forcibly, the Beauregard striking the Price a severe blow forward of the wheelhouse. While thus afoul of each other, the Monarch again came forward and dealt the Beauregard a hard blow in her side. At the same time, the sharpshooters aboard the Monarch amused themselves by coolly picking off the men engaged in working the enemy’s guns and succeeded in killing numbers while driving the remainder inside their boats.

          Our fire, which during this time had almost ceased by voluntary consent, now commenced with increased vigor and the enemy being closer to us than before, soon began to feel the effects of our well-directed shots. As you already know, the Price had been struck; she now withdrew to the Arkansas shore and sank in shoal water. There remained the Little Rebel, Beauregard, Jeff Thompson, Sumter, General Bragg, and General Van Dorn. The Beauregard, partially disabled by the Monarch, became unmanageable which we noticed and prepared to take advantage. We poured a destructive fire upon her and a lucky shell was not long in finding its way to her boilers. Riddled with shots, her boilers blown up, and the crew disabled by rifle shots, shell fragments and the scalding steam. The ship was sinking from the blow of the ram and what else could she do but haul down her flag or sink with it flying as all aboard perished. She preferred the former, humiliating as it was, and a white flag took its place.

"The Monarch, after sinking the Lovell, went in pursuit of the fleeing steamers Van Doran and Colonel Thompson at the foot of President’s Island. She overwhelmed the Thompson and brought her back, the Van Dorn making her escape. The Champion is now pumping out the General Price. She is a noble vessel and will be worth, when repaired, $150,000; the Sumter worth $75,000; the General Bragg worth $150,000, and the Little Rebel worth $10,000. Thus $385,000 has been captured in this battle, and an equal amount destroyed. Their whole fleet, except the Van Dorn, is gone and lost forever." ~ Chief Engineer William G. McFarland, U.S.S. Cincinnati

          Having thus disposed of the Beauregard, we passed on as rapidly as possible after the others, leaving the poor wounded, scalded, and dying crew to be cared for by the rest of the fleet which followed us. Seeing the Little Rebel quite conspicuous, we gave her the benefit of a few shots, some of which pierced her side and caused her to be run to the Arkansas shore and deserted by her crew. Jeff Thompson now appeared disabled, whether from a ram or cannon shot I cannot say, but she also ran upon the Arkansas shore and was deserted. Flames soon proceeded from her sides and about 10 a.m., when we were returning victorious, she blew up her magazine. The explosion was very loud and the spectacle magnificent.

          That left General Bragg, Sumter, and General Van Dorn, and they were making off as fast as possible. Our shots, however, struck thick and fast around them and before they could get out of harm’s reach, all except the Van Dorn became disabled and fell into our hands. The Bragg, as a consequence of getting a smash in her wheel, was deserted with her steam being first shut off. A few more moments and she would have blown up her boilers. I have not learned how the Sumter became disabled or what damage she sustained; at any rate, she now lies anchored in the stream, a few yards to the stern of us with the stars and stripes floating at her masthead.

          Beauregard suffered severely; she was both rammed and shot. The shots passed through her engines, knocking the splinters in all directions and finally went through her boilers. The splinters struck and badly wounded the engineer; he is now on board and is in a very low condition. The steam from the boilers scalded four poor firemen in a most shocking manner. One who went on board immediately after the fight says the spectacle afforded by these sufferers exceeded anything he ever saw before and was enough to tear the most unfeeling heart. They implored him to give them relief, but all the relief which could be afforded was produced by the application of flour, sprinkled very lightly upon them. So completely had the steam penetrated the flesh that it hung in shreds upon their bones, the least touch or motion causing it to fall off entirely! As we passed her, she was sinking rapidly with steam escaping from all sides. I only saw one man aboard her; he sat on the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and forecastle begrimed with powder and apparently wounded. He had lost his cap and his appearance was sad and heart-rending in the extreme.

          We only had one man wounded. A piece of exploding shell when the Jeff Thompson blew up struck a man aboard the St. Louis, wounding him in the foot. Colonel Ellet commanding the ram fleet was wounded in the leg by a pistol shot, not very badly, however. The Little Rebel received two shots in her starboard quarter but her crew escaped. Captain Coball of the General Lovell was shot through the head early in the action by a rifle ball. The craft itself sank out of sight entirely. It is said that a man aboard the General Lovell was seen by one of our pilots rushing from the cabin out on to the deck with a pistol in each hand crying, “the day is lost!” A moment afterward, he fell overboard and sank out of sight immediately. The river was filled with floating fragments of spars, small boats, and bales of cotton. Men were struggling in the water in all directions and making frantic signs for assistance.

An antebellum view shows Memphis, Tennessee situated high atop Chickasaw Bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. The city was founded in 1819 and by the outbreak of the war was home to more than 22,000 residents, nearly a quarter of whom were Irish immigrants. 

          As we approached the city after destroying part of the Rebel fleet and capturing the remainder, the bluffs were lined with an excited crowd of men, women, and children, comprising all that was left of the inhabitants of that city. Persons of all classes were there to be seen from the noisy street boy to the quiet, sober, matter-of-fact man, and their countenances told as plain as any demonstration that they were disappointed and chagrined and that they wished we were on the bottom of the river in place of the Confederates. I did not see an approving smile, nod, or salute from one in the crowd, but there may have been a very few which escaped my notice.

          When we arrived about 50 yards from the landing, a skiff put out from shore and approached our boat. An old man stood in the stern and held aloft his handkerchief for a flag of truce. He was conducted to the cabin where he remained some moments. He returned accompanied by Captain Seth Ledyard Phelps, Lieutenant Bishop, and G.W. Reed. They then went to the post office building where, after a good deal of delay, they placed the stars and stripes. A good many indignities were offered by the lower class of society but no personal violence that I can learn.

          The Confederate flag kept floating from the flagstaff on the Square till 3:20 p.m. when a company of soldiers went up and cut it down, pole and all. I hear the citizens declared it should never come down, but I think there is in this case a little exaggeration somewhere. There was a good deal of feeling manifested, however, so much so that we feared we would be obliged to shell the city before it would come to terms. As soon as the battle evidently turned in our favor, as many as the trains could carry left the city. The Memphis Appeal newspaper is now issued from Grenada, Mississippi.

Source:

Letters from Moses Farnsworth, U.S.S. Benton, Weekly Waukegan Gazette (Illinois), June 14, 1862, pg. 2; also, June 21, 1862, pg. 2