Yuku free message boards

New Orleans Squadron

A Tale of the Morton Brothers and The War of 1848

Episode Three

December 6, 1848, New Orleans Squadron Headquarters

New Orleans, Louisiana

Mid-morning.

Everyone was a bit nervous. Everyone had expected the Yankees to make their move. Everyone knew that Galveston had been taken last month, but so far no one had seen anything of the unpredictable Yankees.

In the last few weeks, the Confederates had braced for an attack. The yards had produced a few more boats but now they were out of engine machinery and guns. The Squadron had taken possession of the boats and had been furiously training their crews. General Davis had arrived with five Mississippi regiments, five Alabama battalions and an Arkansas regiment. That and the growing Louisiana forces gave General Twiggs roughly twelve regiments. Supposedly a Texas regiment was one the way. The Governors of Mississippi and Louisiana had decided to put Davey Twiggs in charge of the land defense of New Orleans. Achilles did not know Twiggs except by reputation, but the Commodore thought quite highly of him.

The powder-drying operation at Port Hudson had gone well. The squadron had plenty of powder, even enough for some shipboard target practice. Achilles was not much impressed by the marksmanship of the Squadron, but good gunners take years to develop. Years the Squadron did not have. All the same, they were much better than back in October.

The Louisiana was at the Landing getting some work on her valve gear. Steam engines required a lot of tinkering to keep them right but then again anything on the water required endless maintenance. Even a sailing ship in ordinary kept her carpenter and a couple of mates busy all the time. With the boat being worked on it was best Achilles was elsewhere, so he had stopped by headquarters. He had found nothing there of interest and was about to leave when a yeoman approached.

"Cap'n Mah-ton, thars a messenger for you."

"For me? Where?"

"Ovah he-ah at the front desk."

"You looking for Captain Morton?

"Yassuh."

"Well, I am he."

"Sign he-ah suh."

Achilles signed and tipped the man. Then he tore open the envelope.

"Good grief! Lysander!"

Lysander had just left New Orleans for ostensibly the last time six weeks ago. Now he was back and wanted to see Achilles at the piers - now. Achilles went down to the boat and got a couple of the men and they went the short distance to the deepwater piers.

As they got there Achilles explained that Mortons may not be all that welcome along the piers after Achilles and Lysander had skinned the cotton speculators. The boys were just fine with a fight. They had been spoiling for a fight, and since the Yankees wouldn't oblige, speculators just might have to do.

Lysander's schooners were not the only ships at the deepwater pier. From headquarters, Achilles knew that four ships had sailed yesterday.

As he walked up he saw Lysander watching the dock hands lifting the biggest cannon he'd ever seen. Lysander saw Achilles and waved him up.

"Lysander. Where on earth did you get a long 68?"

"Not just a long 68, but four of them. Plus five hundred of those heavy balls and two hundred sixty barrels of nice fresh French powder. The other ship has 1,800 stands of fairly modern French muskets, cases of shot, and a hundred fifty barrels of powder. Heaviest damn loads you ever saw."

"I can see the dock hands struggling with them. I thought you were not coming back."

"When I got to Kingston an agent of the Governor of Mississippi met me at the pier with an offer I could not refuse."

"How did they pay you? My Louisiana scrip is buying less and less every day."

"Same as before, cotton futures. The price of cotton outside is holding at levels I've never seen it. By the way, you are a rich man these days. All in gold on deposit in a Kingston bank."

"Where is the cotton?"

"As soon as that dapper little officer signs for receipt of the guns and powder they will bring them right out for fast loading."

While they watched the dock hands struggle with the big guns, a crowd of what looked to be cotton speculators began gathering. "Morton" was a dirty word to these men, but generally untouchable on his warship. They wanted to even the score for the financial beating they took back in October. But in their yelling and gesturing they interfered with the dock work. The dapper little officer sent a man running off and about a half hour later a hundred Louisiana militia, led by a tough-looking man came marching up. He read the riot act to the speculators and ordered his men to fix bayonets. The sight of cold steel (wrought iron actually) took the heart out of the speculators and they went off to sulk elsewhere.

After the speculators had left, the little officer and the tough-looking leader of the infantry asked to see Lysander. Lysander and Achilles went down to see them.

The little officer, who identified himself as Major Beauregard asked them: "What did you do to these people to get them so worked up?" (See Note 1)

Lysander answered: "We just asked a fair price for some cotton a couple months ago. They are worked up because they could not rob us. I trust there will be no further problem."

"No suh. With Lieutenant Wheat and his boys here, there will be no trouble."

Achilles looked at Lieutenant Wheat and saw the barely controlled madness that was just what was needed in this application. Achilles could envision Lieutenant Wheat boarding a ship with the maniacal glee of Blackbeard. Wheat probably did not need his men and their bayonets to intimidate the speculators.

"Well suh, we have three of the four guns unloaded and soon we'll be bringing the cotton. I suppose you'll want to get out to sea quickly."

"Indeed so, Major Beauregard."

"Well, Mr. Morton, I still have work to do."

Another heavy wagon was coming up and the dock hands were rigging the last gun. Achilles and Lysander went back on deck.

"Actually Achilles, the speculators are the least reason for me to make haste. On the way in, we saw a couple of sail coming up from the southwest. We had heard the Yankees had taken Galveston, so we presumed these to be blockaders. This time the wind was favorable and we just roared right up the Middle Pass before they could get there. It may be different going out. I suspect this is my last run. I don't want to be here when the Yankees come for New Orleans. I sure wish you'd come with me."

"We've covered that ground before, Lysander."

"You and Ajax are just as hard-headed. At any rate, see that ship two piers down? She will leave a bit before us, but her captain is a skinflint who won't pay for tugs. I, on the other hand have some silver for old Tom and we'll get two fast tugs at the Passes. Maybe I can let the skinflint be Yankee-bait and I can slip out while they chase him."

"Sounds like a good plan, but remember some of these Yankees ships have those new Paixhan guns. One good hit will blow a wooden ship to pieces. They already got two ships back in the summer. Give them a wide berth. When are you going to England?"

"My plan is to sell off this cotton and the schooners and clean up some affairs in Kingston and take the packet to Southampton in January."

The dockhands finally got the last big gun loaded on Beauregard's wagon. With no more massive loads, the rest of the unloading went quickly and just after supper - Lysander and Achilles ate on board - the cotton showed up and loading of it began. With the cotton, the speculators showed up again but one look at the eyes of Lieutenant Wheat told them to stand clear. About that time, the ship Lysander had mentioned pushed off. As he had predicted the captain did not want a tug. The wind was marginal, so the ship had to tack down the river.

"We won't shove off til dawn and we'll catch him before the forts."

A bit after supper, a man came on board with a chest and four armed guards.

"Ah! Mr. Armentrout! Achilles, this is Robert Armentrout, my agent in New Orleans and Baton Rouge. Robert, this is my brother, Achilles."

Armentrout handed Lysander a piece of paper.

"Well, Robert, you've been quite busy."

"Yes, I have. Nobody knew I was doing your business and I got some real bargains. The quinine brought a real good price. I converted everything to specie and indigo concentrate. Hope silver is good enough. There is very little gold left in Louisiana. I even put some sterling silver spoons in the chest."

"You've done well, Robert. Where is your family, Robert? I thought you were leaving with us?"

"Dolly gets seasick. We're gonna go to Missouri and lie low for a while. Dolly's family has a farm near Springfield and that's where we are going. In fact, my packet leaves in about three hours."

Armentrout handed Lysander a piece of paper with the address.

"I'll wait for a couple years after the war ends. If I don't hear from you by then, I'll have to assume you've either run afoul of ill-fortune or have no further need of me and I will move on."

"Maybe that's a good plan. Listen, Achilles has to be getting back to his ship and he has four armed sailors with him. Ten men will be safer than five. Now that you have reported, all I have to do is secure for the sea and shove off.

It was indeed time for Achilles to get back and Mr. Armentrout had little time to waste. With ten armed men, no criminals of any sort sought to bother them, and they reached their respective vessels without incident.

Lysander shoved off just before daylight and one of Tom Shelby's river tugs pulled him downstream.

December 10, 1848, Head of Passes

Mouth of the Mississippi

Just after nightfall

As he had predicted, Lysander had arrived at the head of passes before the other ship which he identified as the Bridgeport. The wind had been contrary and had blown the Yankees blockaders fair close to shore, so the blockade runners laid a bit further up river until things changed.

Today had brought showers and the wind swung around to the NNE. Lysander had stood with Tom on his biggest tug and watched the Yankees wear back out to sea. Back in the afternoon, Tom had remarked: "Mark my words, ol' tightfisted Jimmy LeGrand in the Bridgeport won't let the sun be down three hours and he'll bolt."

"The Yankees will catch him."

"They shur will. He's watched them beat back and forth in contrary winds and he doesn't know how fast they are in a following wind."

"I'm thinking these schooners will be hard to catch in a beam reach. We run out the East Pass and run hard due east and we'll lose these ships."

"Yup. And all the better if they have ol' Jimmy to chase. But you best watch. The big ship has some sort of gun that fires farther than any gun ah've ever seen."

"Yeah. Achilles calls them a Paixhan gun. Says one shot will blow a ship to pieces."

"Thass whut happened back in the summer."

Lysander went back to his schooners to await the right moment.

Sure enough, a bit after dark, with only one sail in sight off to the southwest, the Bridgeport made her move. With no tug assist, she blasted right out the Middle Pass and steered a due south course. The smaller blockader spotted the Bridgeport and pounced like a cat on a mouse.

About two hours after the Bridgeport made her move rainstorm blew up and the wind shifted a bit more to the east. Tom's two tugs had been rigged to show no light. The boiler space was sweltering, but no firelight escaped. Lysander got premium service because Lysander paid in specie.

The tugs pulled the schooners at a low bell through the tricky waters of the East Pass and as the schooners took the wind and made some slack in the lines the tugs cut them loose and slipped back into the river.

Sure enough, just as Lysander made his move, the smaller blockader - the sloop Cyane - caught the Bridgeport and made her heave to for boarding.

What Lysander had not counted on was that the captain of the bigger blockader - the Constitution (although Lysander had no way of know what ships these were) - had slipped to the east while remaining over the horizon from the Passes. About ten miles SE of the Passes the Constitution turned to the northeast. It wasn't that the Constitution had seen them. It was just that the captain had guessed two runners might try the same night and that was the way he would have attacked the problem of getting by the blockade.

Sure enough he found two schooners running due east. The problem was that the wind shift had nearly put the Constitution in irons. He had to drop off to a more southeasterly heading and still the schooners were flying in the beam reach wind.

Captain Hull had only one chance.

"Put one over her bow."

At this range - about two miles - that meant the port bow Paixhans.

BOOM

urrrrr-SPLASH

The shell hit about four hundred yards short but ahead of the schooners. Probably a valid shot across the bow.

"By Caesar's ghost, that gun can shoot a long way."

"Mister Beale, I suggest you crowd on every stitch of sail she can carry. Those guns can fire even further and they will blow us out of the water if they hit us."

BOOM

urrrr-RIP-SPLASH

The second shot ripped through the jibsail of the far schooner and splashed beyond her.

"Should we heave to?"

"Not unless you want to die in a Yankee prison. We are slowly pulling away."

What neither Beale, nor Lysander, nor Captain Hull knew was that was as close as the Constitution would ever get to stopping the schooners. The problem of hitting a fairly small (<200 feet long) target at two miles from a rolling deck, occasionally taking water, was insuperable at this time. The Paixhans gun was so heavy the Constitution could not carry them on the weather deck ,so they were carried low on the gun deck and in the seas as they were running that night waves broke through the open gun port. Add in the changing bearing and range and the gunners simply had no chance.

Over the next two hours Lysander and his crews sweated as the gun, fired every four minutes or so slowly fell out of range. Just as the Yankees were about to give up one shot was fired as the ship rolled a bit and the splash was a good deal closer. But that was her last hurrah and about dawn, the Constitution (out of sight of the schooners but her taller crow's nest still could see the schooners) turned back to the west. By mid-morning they were confident the Yankees had lost them and the schooners turned south for the west end of Cuba and passage around to Jamaica.

Note

1.The author will not even try to simulate Beauregard's huge Cajun accent.