142 years ago today the Union navy destroyed the only Confederate vessel it ever sank with a spar torpedo. A momentous occasion for sure, but more importantly it was the de facto birth of the U.S. Navy’s Special Operations. It occurred near Plymouth NC where a handful of Union sailors, under the command of one daring and determined leader, with nothing more than a steam launch, a single 12 pound howitzer and a spar torpedo attacked and sank the ironclad Confederate Leviathan known as the CSS Albemarle into the muddy depths of the Roanoke River. The determined leader was Lt. William Barker Cushing who could easily be called the father of U.S. Naval Special Operations and a predecessor of the heralded Sea Air and Land units known by their acronym of the SEALs.
Lt. William Barker Cushing:
William Barker Cushing was born in Delafield, Wisconsin, on November 4, 1842 and was the youngest of three sons of Dr. Milton Cushing and Mary Barker Smith Cushing. In 1847, just after Cushing turned four, his father died and his mother moved the family to Fredonia, New York to be closer to family. He attended Fredonia Academy for elementary school and worked as a page in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1855. Due to contacts there, he was admitted to the U.S. Naval Academy in 1857 at the young age of 14. Due to his immaturity and high-spirited nature he had a hard time adjusting to the life of a midshipman. Although he was a natural born leader, he had a propensity for excitement and daring deeds. This risk taking manifested itself at the academy in the form of pranks and a neglect of his studies. By the end of his freshman year he had accumulated 188 demerits. The rule was that if a midshipmen received 200 demerits he was expelled. Cushing did better for the next two years but at the end of his senior year, only weeks before graduation, he reached 200 demerits and on March 23, 1861 he was expelled from the Academy. Just three weeks later, the south fired on Ft. Sumter and Cushing personally went to see Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles to plead his case for a position in the navy. Welles granted his request and Cushing was made an Acting Master’s Mate and assigned to the USS Minnesota. He soon distinguished himself as an officer of extraordinary initiative and courage especially in daring raids on Confederate shipping and shore facilities. He was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant on July 16, 1862 at the age of 19. He would serve on several ships over the next two years, receiving praise for his bravery and skill. After his promotion to lieutenant, he served as the Executive Officer of the gunboat Commodore Perry. He was next given command of the tug Ellis, which he used to go up the New Bern Inlet to the town of Jacksonville, NC to capture two Rebel schooners on November 25, 1862. In doing so, he lost the Ellis but returned to the fleet with the two captured schooners. He subsequently commanded the gunboats Commodore Barney, Shokokon and Monticello. While in command of the Commodore Barney in January 1863 he and his 25 man crew captured Confederate earthworks guarding the entrance to the Little River. A few months later, he devised a daring plan to capture Confederate General Louis Hébert at his headquarters in Smithfield, NC. Taking two boats and 20 men, he just missed his quarry, who had just left the headquarters prior to the raid’s arrival.
Despite all these heroics, it was his brother Alonzo who would become the first public hero in the family. Alonzo was a lieutenant commanding Battery A, of the 4th US Artillery in the Army of the Potomac. It was his battery that was located at the tactical aiming point for George Pickett’s Division during its famous charge at Gettysburg. Alonzo Cushing held his post during that charge pouring canister into the advancing Confederates despite several painful wounds, including one that completely emasculated him. Alonzo continued firing his lone surviving gun at the center of the Confederate storm of iron and lead until he was finally killed. It was next to this gun that General Lewis Armistead was mortally wounded and only a few paces from the lifeless body of Alonzo Cushing. (see the thread “Give them the Cold Steel!” from July)
Brother Alonzo, second from the right. Cushing’s other older brother was also in the army and died in battle with the Apaches in 1871:
William Cushing continued his special operations in 1864. In February he attacked the Cape Fear River defenses and four months later he performed a mission that would be familiar to today’s SEALs. He and a 15 man detail spent three days performing a reconnaissance of the area between Ft. Fisher and the town of Wilmington. Soon after that, Cushing was given the assignment to devise a plan to sink the CSS Albemarle, a new ironclad that posed a great threat to the Union blockade along the coast of North Carolina. Cushing proposed an attack using two small picket boats, especially equipped for the mission.
Plan of the steam launch Cushing devised for his special mission:
The CSS Albemarle was the product of the mind of a 19 year-old named Gilbert Elliot of Elizabeth City, NC. The Confederacy issued a contract to Elliot on April 16, 1862 to construct the ironclad. Since the terms of the agreement gave Elliot freedom to select an appropriate place to assemble the ram, he established a primitive shipyard in the cornfield of Peter E. Smith. The cornfield was located up the Roanoke River at a place called Edward's Ferry, near modern Scotland Neck, North Carolina. There the water was too shallow to permit the approach of Union gunboats, which otherwise could have destroyed the ram while it was still under construction. Elliot selected a man named John L. Porter as chief engineer and construction began in January 1863. Word of the project soon alarmed Union naval officers in the region but despite efforts to convince the army to attack the site, the Union Army never felt it could spare the troops needed to carry out the task. It would take Elliot over a year to construct the Albemarle due to a shortage of iron and men. Elliot collected his iron from the local area, sometimes stealing from the railroads and taking some iron from the locals at gunpoint. Finally on April 17, 1864, she was completed and commissioned. She was 158’ long, 35’3” wide (beam) and drew 9 feet of water, while displacing 376 tons. She had two reciprocating compound 200 horsepower steam engines with two 6’ propellers that had a 9’ pitch. Her cruising speed was 5 knots and her casemate housed two eight inch 6.4 Brooke Rifled Cannon, one fore and one aft, that could each be pivoted to fire out of three different gun ports. The casemate was 60’ long and was covered in two layers of 2” iron plating. The slope of the casemate was at a 35 degree angle to deflect enemy shot and shell. She had An 18-foot-long white-oak ram, also sheathed with iron plates, extended from the bow to puncture the sides of wooden vessels and sink them. Her crew complement was 150 officers and men.
Plan of the CSS Albemarle:
The Albemarle did not wait long for its first action. On April 19, under the command of Commander James W. Cooke, she attacked the small Union fleet at the mouth of the Roanoke River, which was under the command of Lt. Commander Charles Flusser. Flusser was a former instructor at the Naval Academy and Cushing had been one of his students. At the outbreak of the war, Flusser, who was a native of Maryland and citizen of Kentucky, had divided allegiances. He credited Cushing with helping him choose to fight for the Federal Navy. In short but fierce fighting during the Battle of Plymouth, Albemarle swept the Federal Navy from the Roanoke River. Flusser was killed by his own shell, fired at point blank range at the Albemarle. The shell bounced off the casemate of the Albemarle back on to his ship, the USS Miami, and exploded, on Flusser, who was standing next to the cannon that had fired the shell. Cooke then ran close in to the southern shore and turned to ram the USS Southfield amidships. Albemarle was going full speed and with the assistance of the current, she drove the federal ship straight to the bottom, taking part of her crew with her. The bow of Albemarle was pulled under water and she too would have sunk if Southfield had not rolled over when she hit the bottom and released the ram. Despite the death of their captain, Miami`s crew tried to board the Confederate ship but were driven back by musket fire. However, Miami was able to use her speed to avoid the ram and escaped into Albemarle Sound. Now that the river was clear of federal ships, General Robert Hoke was able to attack and retake the town of Plymouth.
Flusser:
USS Miami:
Sixteen days later on May 5, 1864, the Albemarle faced down another Federal fleet of seven gunboats, three of which were three times the size of the Albemarle. Together they mounted 60 guns against the Albemarle’s two. They fired 557 shells at the Albemarle and rammed her but could not sink her. Throughout the summer and early autumn of 1864 Albemarle dominated the Roanoke and the approaches to Plymouth. By September, the Federal government decided something must be done about the situation in North Carolina. The US Navy debated several plans to destroy or capture Albemarle before finally authorized Cushing to solve the problem.
CSS Albemarle:
First, Cushing headed to New York City to find the right sort of vessel for navigating the Roanoke River. He learned that the navy under an engineer named John Lay, was tinkering with steam launches outfitted with torpedoes. Small and maneuverable, these boats were less than 50 feet long with a draft of about three and a half feet. Lay had already completed two of the vessels when Cushing arrived in New York. Each launch had been fitted with a small davit and upon each davit hung a torpedo. The davit allowed the bomb to be lifted over the side and hurled forward a few feet toward an enemy ship. After the torpedo was released, a tug on a line caused a ball inside the torpedo to fall onto a percussion cap. The resulting spark detonated the bomb's explosives. It was a tricky device that required dexterity and daring of the user but Cushing ran the launches through several successful trials in New York Harbor and decided they would be adequate for the mission. The first spar torpedo had been invented by E.C. Singer, a private engineer who worked on secret projects for the benefit of the Confederate States of America. (Singer was the nephew of Isaac Singer, inventor of the sewing machine.) Singer's torpedo was detonated by means of a trigger mechanism adapted from a rifle lock (a flintlock mechanism). The spring-loaded trigger was detonated by means of a long cord attached to the attacking vessel. The attacking vessel rammed its target, embedding the barbed torpedo in its hull, then backed off. When the attacker reached the limit of the trigger cord, the torpedo was detonated. The most famous use of a spar torpedo so far had been when the Confederate submarine H. L. Hunleysank the screw sloop USS Housatonic on February 17, 1864.
How a spar torpedo worked. The torpedo contained an air chamber which allowed it to float in a vertical position. Pulling out the pin let a grape ball fall on a percussion cap which ignited the powder charge in the lower chamber. The device, at the end of a 14 ft. spar was released by pulling a lanyard when it was under the enemy hull.:
Cushing had a 12-pound howitzer mounted on each boat and sent them south. As Cushing made his way south by rail, the two steam launches traveled through inland waterways toward North Carolina. On the Chesapeake Bay, however, they became separated and one blundered into Rebel-held territory in Virginia and was captured. The second launch rendezvoused with Cushing at Norfolk, Virginia. Although the young commander was distressed by the loss of one of his launches, he continued the expedition. "Impossibilities are for the timid," he later commented, "We determined to overcome all obstacles." Cushing guided the single launch through the Chesapeake and Albemarle Canal on the morning of October 27 and met up with the Union flotilla, which was cowering at the mouth of the Roanoke River, dreading the reappearance of the Albemarle. In addition to the crew, he had assigned to the torpedo launch, Cushing had gathered a second group of raiders who would be towed in cutters; if nothing else, he believed, the extra men could help his crew board and seize the ironclad, if that failed, they would destroy her.
Cushing on far left with Admiral David Dixon Porter center on USS Malvern Hill in 1864:
The proposed exploit was a perilous one. The Albemarle lay eight miles up the river. The town of Plymouth was garrisoned by several thousand soldiers and the banks of the stream were patrolled by sentinels all the way down to the bay. Still as darkness fell that night, the mission began as the steam launch made the slow voyage up the Roanoke. The launch contained a crew of seven, towing two cutters, each containing ten men, armed with cutlasses, grenades, and revolvers. Every care was made to pass quietly up the river, and a rain storm helped cover their movements. They also kept to mid-stream, to avoid alarming the sentinels on the banks. On the way to their target, Cushing steamed past the wreck of the Southfield. The upper works of the sunken Union vessel protruded above the surface of the river, and the Confederates were using the ship as a lookout post. If he could not slip by unnoticed, Cushing hoped to run some of the men from the cutter onto the Southfield; they would silence the lookouts before any alarm could be spread. But the steam launch chugged by the Confederate pickets without being seen. They successfully avoided the sentinels all along the eight miles of the river and the Confederates didn’t having an inkling of the disaster soon in store for them. As they approached the Albemarle, the weather cleared and Cushing and his men saw the imposing sight of the Albemarle, protected by a pen of logs that extended about 30 feet from the vessel. If he could capture the Albemarle, Cushing thought the ram's iron plating would protect his men as they sailed triumphantly back to the Union fleet. It was a glorious fantasy in his mind, until the voice of a Confederate sailor hailing the steam launch snapped Cushing back to reality. There would be no surprise attack now. Cushing ordered the cutters back downriver and called out defiantly to the Albemarle's crew, "Leave the ram or I'll blow you to pieces." Instead, reported one Union sailor, "the rebels sprung their rattle, rang the bell and commenced firing." Cushing steered his launch directly for the wooden barriers that encircled the ram. The logs, he reasoned, must have been submerged for some time and, as a result, must have become slimy with algae. If he hit the logs with enough force, the launch might ride right over them. As his launch gained speed and drove toward the Albemarle, the Rebel gunboat's men opened fire but by then the Union launch was too close to allow a clear artillery shot. This time Lieutenant Cushing replied. His reply was not in words, however, but in a howitzer load of canister which cleared the Albemarle's outer deck of sailors. The Confederates on shore, however, had no difficulty firing on Cushing and his boat, the scene was illuminated by bonfires set by the Confederate soldiers and sailors. Several shots passed through Cushing's coat as he stood in the bow of the launch, steadying the torpedo davit. In one hand he held the line that would lower the torpedo; in the other he held the detonating line. Other lines allowed the lieutenant to signal steering instructions to the man at the tiller. Cushing somehow kept his balance as the launch struck the protective logs and as he had guessed, it slid over them. The end of the spar almost touched the iron hull of its victim. The first rope was loosened. The spar, with its load, dropped under water. The launch was still gliding forward, carrying the spar forward and under the hull of the huge ram. The second cord was pulled; the torpedo dropped from the spar. At that moment a bullet cut across Cushing’s left palm. As it did, Cushing tugged on the line and in seconds the torpedo exploded.
Approaching the Albemarle:
In the next instant, a surging column of water was raised, lifting the Albemarle out of the water. As it lifted, the crew of the Albemarle, who had finally lowered the muzzle of one of its artillery pieces sufficiently, fired a shot from fifteen feet away, that blew through the timbers of the attacking launch. As soon as relative quiet returned and the launch started sinking, Cushing yelled, "Men, save yourselves!" Cushing slipped off his coat and shoes and dove into the cold Roanoke River. Several of his sailors followed. The incensed Confederates hastily manned boats and pushed out into the stream. In a few minutes, they had captured most of the swimming crew. One sailor drowned and one reached the shore before he was captured but they could not find Cushing. From the prisoners they learned Cushing’s name and even called out to him by name —but no answer came. In a few minutes, the lights of a blazing fires began to wane. With no forms swimming in the river, the general impression became by all that the daring commander was drowned. After a little more search by the light of the dying bonfires the Confederates assumed they had finished their work and returned to the wharf.
Attack on the Albemarle:
Abandoning the steamer after the Attack on the Albemarle:
But Cushing emerged on the Plymouth side of the river. He had no clue whether his mission had succeeded or failed as he swam for land. When he finally drew his exhausted body onto the shore, he was still several miles from the Union fleet. He was lying quietly in reeds near the river's edge when several Confederate soldiers passed close enough that he could hear them commenting on "how it had been done." When he became aware of his surroundings he discovered that he was lying at the base of the walls of an earthen fort. On its parapet, towering above him, a sentinel could be seen, pacing back and forth. Cushing lay almost directly under his eyes. A bushy swamp lay not far beyond, and Cushing crept toward it throughout the long night in full view of the sentinel. By dawn, he had gained the safety of the swamp full of tangled briers and thorny shrubs, through which he made his way only by lying on his back and pushing and pulling himself onward. The talk of the Confederate soldiers had encouraged Cushing that his mission had been a success but he was not convinced, until he met a black man in the swamp who gave him the news that the Albemarle had been sunk. Cushing's attack blew a hole in Albemarle at the waterline "big enough to drive a wagon in." With newfound energy, Cushing continued to make his way toward the Union flotilla. He stole a small skiff and paddled downriver. After a few hours, he was picked up by a Federal vessel. While the fleet celebrated the news of the Albemarle's destruction, the exhausted Cushing rested. The dreaded ironclad that had been forged in a North Carolina cornfield and had terrorized an entire Union fleet had come to an end.
Wreck of the Albemarle:
Once rested, Cushing wrote his official report of the escapade:
CSS Albemarle salvaged after the war and photographed at the Norfolk Navy Yard:
With the Albemarle out of the way, Federal naval forces recaptured Plymouth on October 31, nearby the Albemarle, lay in the water with her casemate peeking above the surface. Cushing was a national celebrity and was quickly promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander to the date of his action, October 27, 1864. Cushing had a private audience with Abraham Lincoln, and received a Vote of Thanks from Congress. Admiral Porter said, “The gallant exploits of Lieutenant Cushing previous to this affair will form a bright page in the history of the war, but they have all been eclipsed by the destruction of the Albemarle.” Gideon Welles wrote, “"...the great chief of the American Navy, Farragut, who was endowed with like heroism, and for whom alone, the office of admiral was created and its honors intended, said to me that while no navy had braver or better officers than ours, young Cushing was the hero of the War." Abraham Lincoln added, “The destruction of so formidable a vessel, which had resisted the continued attacks of a number of our vessels on former occasions, is an important event touching our future naval and military operations, and would reflect honor on any officer, and redounds to the credit of this young officer." Herman Melville published a poem about Cushing titled, At Cannon’s Mouth. But perhaps the greatest praise came from the captain of the Albemarle Commander Alexander Fraser Worley, who wrote, “A more gallant thing was not done during the war."
Albemarle in Norfolk after the war:
In January 1865, Cushing reconnoitered the channel leading to Ft. Fisher while under heavy firing from the fort. A few days later, he led the Navy and Marine landing force that took the fort, again distinguishing himself greatly. After the war the Albemarle was raised. the Union gunboat USS Ceres towed Albemarle to the Norfolk Navy Yard where she arrived on April 27, 1865. On June 7, orders were issued to repair her hull, and she entered dry dock soon thereafter. The work was completed on August 14, 1865 and, ten days later, the ship was condemned by the Washington D.C. naval prize court. Purchased by the Navy, she saw little if any active service before being placed in dry-dock at Norfolk, where she remained until she was sold at public auction on October 15, 1867 to J.N. Leonard and Company for salvage.
Iron plates from the Albemarle on display in the Norfolk Navy Yard in 1960:
Following the Civil War, Cushing was executive officer of USS Lancaster and commanding officer of USS Maumee. In 1867 while on leave he met a friend of his sister’s Katherine Louise Forbes. He was immediately taken with “Kate”, and proposed marriage on July 1, 1867. However due to his duties they did not get married until February 22, 1870. They would have two daughters Marie Louise (born December 1, 1871) and Katherine Abell (born October 11, 1873) (both daughters would be old maids). He was promoted to Commander in 1872 and made captain of the USS Wyoming from 1873-74. In November 1873, he confronted Spanish authorities in Cuba and saved the lives of the passengers and crew of the steamer Virginius, who had been captured bringing men and supplies to Cuban revolutionaries. In 1873, He was transferred to the Washington Navy Yard, as its executive officer but soon his health started giving way. In December 1874 he was admitted to the navy hospital but was soon transferred to the Hospital for the Insane due to his need for constant care. He died on December 17, 1874 with his mother and wife at his side. Befitting his place in history, he was buried at the Naval Academy Cemetery at Annapolis, Maryland. The Cushing family is the only family to have a son buried at the U. S. Military Academy and the U.S. Naval academy cemeteries.
Cushing in 1870, just before his death:
His wife, Katherine Louise Forbes Cushing:
His grave at the USNA:
The navy named a series of torpedo boats and destroyers for William Barker Cushing. These include USS Cushing (TB-1)of 1890-1920, USS Cushing (DD-55) of 1915-1936, USS Cushing (DD-376) of 1936-1942, USS Cushing (DD-797) of 1944-1961, and the present USS Cushing (DD-985), commissioned in 1979.
[This message has been edited by BQ78 (edited 10/27/2008 9:29a).]
Lt. William Barker Cushing:
William Barker Cushing was born in Delafield, Wisconsin, on November 4, 1842 and was the youngest of three sons of Dr. Milton Cushing and Mary Barker Smith Cushing. In 1847, just after Cushing turned four, his father died and his mother moved the family to Fredonia, New York to be closer to family. He attended Fredonia Academy for elementary school and worked as a page in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1855. Due to contacts there, he was admitted to the U.S. Naval Academy in 1857 at the young age of 14. Due to his immaturity and high-spirited nature he had a hard time adjusting to the life of a midshipman. Although he was a natural born leader, he had a propensity for excitement and daring deeds. This risk taking manifested itself at the academy in the form of pranks and a neglect of his studies. By the end of his freshman year he had accumulated 188 demerits. The rule was that if a midshipmen received 200 demerits he was expelled. Cushing did better for the next two years but at the end of his senior year, only weeks before graduation, he reached 200 demerits and on March 23, 1861 he was expelled from the Academy. Just three weeks later, the south fired on Ft. Sumter and Cushing personally went to see Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles to plead his case for a position in the navy. Welles granted his request and Cushing was made an Acting Master’s Mate and assigned to the USS Minnesota. He soon distinguished himself as an officer of extraordinary initiative and courage especially in daring raids on Confederate shipping and shore facilities. He was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant on July 16, 1862 at the age of 19. He would serve on several ships over the next two years, receiving praise for his bravery and skill. After his promotion to lieutenant, he served as the Executive Officer of the gunboat Commodore Perry. He was next given command of the tug Ellis, which he used to go up the New Bern Inlet to the town of Jacksonville, NC to capture two Rebel schooners on November 25, 1862. In doing so, he lost the Ellis but returned to the fleet with the two captured schooners. He subsequently commanded the gunboats Commodore Barney, Shokokon and Monticello. While in command of the Commodore Barney in January 1863 he and his 25 man crew captured Confederate earthworks guarding the entrance to the Little River. A few months later, he devised a daring plan to capture Confederate General Louis Hébert at his headquarters in Smithfield, NC. Taking two boats and 20 men, he just missed his quarry, who had just left the headquarters prior to the raid’s arrival.
Despite all these heroics, it was his brother Alonzo who would become the first public hero in the family. Alonzo was a lieutenant commanding Battery A, of the 4th US Artillery in the Army of the Potomac. It was his battery that was located at the tactical aiming point for George Pickett’s Division during its famous charge at Gettysburg. Alonzo Cushing held his post during that charge pouring canister into the advancing Confederates despite several painful wounds, including one that completely emasculated him. Alonzo continued firing his lone surviving gun at the center of the Confederate storm of iron and lead until he was finally killed. It was next to this gun that General Lewis Armistead was mortally wounded and only a few paces from the lifeless body of Alonzo Cushing. (see the thread “Give them the Cold Steel!” from July)
Brother Alonzo, second from the right. Cushing’s other older brother was also in the army and died in battle with the Apaches in 1871:
William Cushing continued his special operations in 1864. In February he attacked the Cape Fear River defenses and four months later he performed a mission that would be familiar to today’s SEALs. He and a 15 man detail spent three days performing a reconnaissance of the area between Ft. Fisher and the town of Wilmington. Soon after that, Cushing was given the assignment to devise a plan to sink the CSS Albemarle, a new ironclad that posed a great threat to the Union blockade along the coast of North Carolina. Cushing proposed an attack using two small picket boats, especially equipped for the mission.
Plan of the steam launch Cushing devised for his special mission:
The CSS Albemarle was the product of the mind of a 19 year-old named Gilbert Elliot of Elizabeth City, NC. The Confederacy issued a contract to Elliot on April 16, 1862 to construct the ironclad. Since the terms of the agreement gave Elliot freedom to select an appropriate place to assemble the ram, he established a primitive shipyard in the cornfield of Peter E. Smith. The cornfield was located up the Roanoke River at a place called Edward's Ferry, near modern Scotland Neck, North Carolina. There the water was too shallow to permit the approach of Union gunboats, which otherwise could have destroyed the ram while it was still under construction. Elliot selected a man named John L. Porter as chief engineer and construction began in January 1863. Word of the project soon alarmed Union naval officers in the region but despite efforts to convince the army to attack the site, the Union Army never felt it could spare the troops needed to carry out the task. It would take Elliot over a year to construct the Albemarle due to a shortage of iron and men. Elliot collected his iron from the local area, sometimes stealing from the railroads and taking some iron from the locals at gunpoint. Finally on April 17, 1864, she was completed and commissioned. She was 158’ long, 35’3” wide (beam) and drew 9 feet of water, while displacing 376 tons. She had two reciprocating compound 200 horsepower steam engines with two 6’ propellers that had a 9’ pitch. Her cruising speed was 5 knots and her casemate housed two eight inch 6.4 Brooke Rifled Cannon, one fore and one aft, that could each be pivoted to fire out of three different gun ports. The casemate was 60’ long and was covered in two layers of 2” iron plating. The slope of the casemate was at a 35 degree angle to deflect enemy shot and shell. She had An 18-foot-long white-oak ram, also sheathed with iron plates, extended from the bow to puncture the sides of wooden vessels and sink them. Her crew complement was 150 officers and men.
Plan of the CSS Albemarle:
The Albemarle did not wait long for its first action. On April 19, under the command of Commander James W. Cooke, she attacked the small Union fleet at the mouth of the Roanoke River, which was under the command of Lt. Commander Charles Flusser. Flusser was a former instructor at the Naval Academy and Cushing had been one of his students. At the outbreak of the war, Flusser, who was a native of Maryland and citizen of Kentucky, had divided allegiances. He credited Cushing with helping him choose to fight for the Federal Navy. In short but fierce fighting during the Battle of Plymouth, Albemarle swept the Federal Navy from the Roanoke River. Flusser was killed by his own shell, fired at point blank range at the Albemarle. The shell bounced off the casemate of the Albemarle back on to his ship, the USS Miami, and exploded, on Flusser, who was standing next to the cannon that had fired the shell. Cooke then ran close in to the southern shore and turned to ram the USS Southfield amidships. Albemarle was going full speed and with the assistance of the current, she drove the federal ship straight to the bottom, taking part of her crew with her. The bow of Albemarle was pulled under water and she too would have sunk if Southfield had not rolled over when she hit the bottom and released the ram. Despite the death of their captain, Miami`s crew tried to board the Confederate ship but were driven back by musket fire. However, Miami was able to use her speed to avoid the ram and escaped into Albemarle Sound. Now that the river was clear of federal ships, General Robert Hoke was able to attack and retake the town of Plymouth.
Flusser:
USS Miami:
Sixteen days later on May 5, 1864, the Albemarle faced down another Federal fleet of seven gunboats, three of which were three times the size of the Albemarle. Together they mounted 60 guns against the Albemarle’s two. They fired 557 shells at the Albemarle and rammed her but could not sink her. Throughout the summer and early autumn of 1864 Albemarle dominated the Roanoke and the approaches to Plymouth. By September, the Federal government decided something must be done about the situation in North Carolina. The US Navy debated several plans to destroy or capture Albemarle before finally authorized Cushing to solve the problem.
CSS Albemarle:
First, Cushing headed to New York City to find the right sort of vessel for navigating the Roanoke River. He learned that the navy under an engineer named John Lay, was tinkering with steam launches outfitted with torpedoes. Small and maneuverable, these boats were less than 50 feet long with a draft of about three and a half feet. Lay had already completed two of the vessels when Cushing arrived in New York. Each launch had been fitted with a small davit and upon each davit hung a torpedo. The davit allowed the bomb to be lifted over the side and hurled forward a few feet toward an enemy ship. After the torpedo was released, a tug on a line caused a ball inside the torpedo to fall onto a percussion cap. The resulting spark detonated the bomb's explosives. It was a tricky device that required dexterity and daring of the user but Cushing ran the launches through several successful trials in New York Harbor and decided they would be adequate for the mission. The first spar torpedo had been invented by E.C. Singer, a private engineer who worked on secret projects for the benefit of the Confederate States of America. (Singer was the nephew of Isaac Singer, inventor of the sewing machine.) Singer's torpedo was detonated by means of a trigger mechanism adapted from a rifle lock (a flintlock mechanism). The spring-loaded trigger was detonated by means of a long cord attached to the attacking vessel. The attacking vessel rammed its target, embedding the barbed torpedo in its hull, then backed off. When the attacker reached the limit of the trigger cord, the torpedo was detonated. The most famous use of a spar torpedo so far had been when the Confederate submarine H. L. Hunleysank the screw sloop USS Housatonic on February 17, 1864.
How a spar torpedo worked. The torpedo contained an air chamber which allowed it to float in a vertical position. Pulling out the pin let a grape ball fall on a percussion cap which ignited the powder charge in the lower chamber. The device, at the end of a 14 ft. spar was released by pulling a lanyard when it was under the enemy hull.:
Cushing had a 12-pound howitzer mounted on each boat and sent them south. As Cushing made his way south by rail, the two steam launches traveled through inland waterways toward North Carolina. On the Chesapeake Bay, however, they became separated and one blundered into Rebel-held territory in Virginia and was captured. The second launch rendezvoused with Cushing at Norfolk, Virginia. Although the young commander was distressed by the loss of one of his launches, he continued the expedition. "Impossibilities are for the timid," he later commented, "We determined to overcome all obstacles." Cushing guided the single launch through the Chesapeake and Albemarle Canal on the morning of October 27 and met up with the Union flotilla, which was cowering at the mouth of the Roanoke River, dreading the reappearance of the Albemarle. In addition to the crew, he had assigned to the torpedo launch, Cushing had gathered a second group of raiders who would be towed in cutters; if nothing else, he believed, the extra men could help his crew board and seize the ironclad, if that failed, they would destroy her.
Cushing on far left with Admiral David Dixon Porter center on USS Malvern Hill in 1864:
The proposed exploit was a perilous one. The Albemarle lay eight miles up the river. The town of Plymouth was garrisoned by several thousand soldiers and the banks of the stream were patrolled by sentinels all the way down to the bay. Still as darkness fell that night, the mission began as the steam launch made the slow voyage up the Roanoke. The launch contained a crew of seven, towing two cutters, each containing ten men, armed with cutlasses, grenades, and revolvers. Every care was made to pass quietly up the river, and a rain storm helped cover their movements. They also kept to mid-stream, to avoid alarming the sentinels on the banks. On the way to their target, Cushing steamed past the wreck of the Southfield. The upper works of the sunken Union vessel protruded above the surface of the river, and the Confederates were using the ship as a lookout post. If he could not slip by unnoticed, Cushing hoped to run some of the men from the cutter onto the Southfield; they would silence the lookouts before any alarm could be spread. But the steam launch chugged by the Confederate pickets without being seen. They successfully avoided the sentinels all along the eight miles of the river and the Confederates didn’t having an inkling of the disaster soon in store for them. As they approached the Albemarle, the weather cleared and Cushing and his men saw the imposing sight of the Albemarle, protected by a pen of logs that extended about 30 feet from the vessel. If he could capture the Albemarle, Cushing thought the ram's iron plating would protect his men as they sailed triumphantly back to the Union fleet. It was a glorious fantasy in his mind, until the voice of a Confederate sailor hailing the steam launch snapped Cushing back to reality. There would be no surprise attack now. Cushing ordered the cutters back downriver and called out defiantly to the Albemarle's crew, "Leave the ram or I'll blow you to pieces." Instead, reported one Union sailor, "the rebels sprung their rattle, rang the bell and commenced firing." Cushing steered his launch directly for the wooden barriers that encircled the ram. The logs, he reasoned, must have been submerged for some time and, as a result, must have become slimy with algae. If he hit the logs with enough force, the launch might ride right over them. As his launch gained speed and drove toward the Albemarle, the Rebel gunboat's men opened fire but by then the Union launch was too close to allow a clear artillery shot. This time Lieutenant Cushing replied. His reply was not in words, however, but in a howitzer load of canister which cleared the Albemarle's outer deck of sailors. The Confederates on shore, however, had no difficulty firing on Cushing and his boat, the scene was illuminated by bonfires set by the Confederate soldiers and sailors. Several shots passed through Cushing's coat as he stood in the bow of the launch, steadying the torpedo davit. In one hand he held the line that would lower the torpedo; in the other he held the detonating line. Other lines allowed the lieutenant to signal steering instructions to the man at the tiller. Cushing somehow kept his balance as the launch struck the protective logs and as he had guessed, it slid over them. The end of the spar almost touched the iron hull of its victim. The first rope was loosened. The spar, with its load, dropped under water. The launch was still gliding forward, carrying the spar forward and under the hull of the huge ram. The second cord was pulled; the torpedo dropped from the spar. At that moment a bullet cut across Cushing’s left palm. As it did, Cushing tugged on the line and in seconds the torpedo exploded.
Approaching the Albemarle:
In the next instant, a surging column of water was raised, lifting the Albemarle out of the water. As it lifted, the crew of the Albemarle, who had finally lowered the muzzle of one of its artillery pieces sufficiently, fired a shot from fifteen feet away, that blew through the timbers of the attacking launch. As soon as relative quiet returned and the launch started sinking, Cushing yelled, "Men, save yourselves!" Cushing slipped off his coat and shoes and dove into the cold Roanoke River. Several of his sailors followed. The incensed Confederates hastily manned boats and pushed out into the stream. In a few minutes, they had captured most of the swimming crew. One sailor drowned and one reached the shore before he was captured but they could not find Cushing. From the prisoners they learned Cushing’s name and even called out to him by name —but no answer came. In a few minutes, the lights of a blazing fires began to wane. With no forms swimming in the river, the general impression became by all that the daring commander was drowned. After a little more search by the light of the dying bonfires the Confederates assumed they had finished their work and returned to the wharf.
Attack on the Albemarle:
Abandoning the steamer after the Attack on the Albemarle:
But Cushing emerged on the Plymouth side of the river. He had no clue whether his mission had succeeded or failed as he swam for land. When he finally drew his exhausted body onto the shore, he was still several miles from the Union fleet. He was lying quietly in reeds near the river's edge when several Confederate soldiers passed close enough that he could hear them commenting on "how it had been done." When he became aware of his surroundings he discovered that he was lying at the base of the walls of an earthen fort. On its parapet, towering above him, a sentinel could be seen, pacing back and forth. Cushing lay almost directly under his eyes. A bushy swamp lay not far beyond, and Cushing crept toward it throughout the long night in full view of the sentinel. By dawn, he had gained the safety of the swamp full of tangled briers and thorny shrubs, through which he made his way only by lying on his back and pushing and pulling himself onward. The talk of the Confederate soldiers had encouraged Cushing that his mission had been a success but he was not convinced, until he met a black man in the swamp who gave him the news that the Albemarle had been sunk. Cushing's attack blew a hole in Albemarle at the waterline "big enough to drive a wagon in." With newfound energy, Cushing continued to make his way toward the Union flotilla. He stole a small skiff and paddled downriver. After a few hours, he was picked up by a Federal vessel. While the fleet celebrated the news of the Albemarle's destruction, the exhausted Cushing rested. The dreaded ironclad that had been forged in a North Carolina cornfield and had terrorized an entire Union fleet had come to an end.
Wreck of the Albemarle:
Once rested, Cushing wrote his official report of the escapade:
quote:
SIR:
I have the honor to report that the rebel ironclad Albemarle is at the bottom of the Roanoke River. On the night of the 27th, having prepared my steam launch, I proceeded up toward Plymouth with 13 officers and men, partly volunteers from the squadron.
The distance from the mouth of the river to the ram was about 8 miles, the stream averaging in width some 200 yards, and lined with the enemy's pickets. A mile below the town was the wreck of the Southfield, surrounded by some schooners, and it was understood that a gun was mounted there to command the bend. I therefore took one of the Shamrock's cutters in tow, with orders to cast off and board at that point if we were hailed. Our boat succeeded in passing the pickets, and even the Southfield, within 20 yards, without discovery, and we were not hailed until by the lookouts on the ram. The cutter was then cast off and ordered below, while we made for our enemy under a full head of steam.
The rebels sprung their rattle, rang the bell, and commenced firing, at the same time repeating their hail and seeming much confused.
The light of fire ashore showed me the ironclad made fast to the wharf, with a pen of logs around her about 30 feet from her side.
Passing her closely, we made a complete circle so as to strike her fairly, and went into her bows on. By this time the enemy's fire was fairly severe, but a dose of canister at short range served to moderate their zeal and disturb their aim.
Paymaster Swan, of the Otsego, was wounded near me, but how many more I know not. Three bullets struck my clothing, and the air seemed full of them.
In a moment we had struck the logs, just abreast of the quarter port, breasting them in some feet, and our bows resting on them. The torpedo boom was then lowered and by a vigorous pull I succeeded in diving the torpedo under the overhang and exploding it at the same time that the Albemarle's gun was fired. A shot seemed to go crashing through my boat, and a dense mass of water rushed in from the torpedo, filling the launch and completely disabling her.
The enemy then continued his fire at 15 feet range, and demanded our surrender, which I twice refused, ordering the men to save themselves, and removing my own coat and shoes. Springing into the river, I swam, with others, into the middle of the stream, the rebels failing to hit us.
The most of our party were captured, some were drowned, and only one escaped besides myself, and he in another direction. Acting Master's Mate Woodman, of the Commodore Hull, I met in the water half a mile below the town, and assisted him as best I could, but failed to get him ashore.
Completely exhausted, I managed to reach the shore, but was too weak to crawl out of the water until just at daylight, when I managed to creep into the swamp, close to the fort. While hiding a few feet from the path, two of the Albemarle's officers passed, and I judged from their conversation that the ship was destroyed.
Some hours traveling in the swamp served to bring me out well below the town, when I sent a negro in to gain information and found that the ram was truly sunk.
Proceeding through another swamp, I came to a creek and captured a skiff, belonging to a picket of the enemy, and with this, by 11 o'clock the next night, had made my way out to the Valley City.
Acting Master's Mate William L. Howorth, of the Monticello, showed, as usual, conspicuous bravery. He is the same officer who has been with me twice in Wilmington harbor. I trust he may be promoted, when exchanged, as well as Acting Third Assistant Engineer Stotesbury, who, being for the first time under fire, handled his engine promptly and with coolness. All the officers and men behaved in the most gallant manner. I will furnish their names to the Department as soon as they can be procured.
The cutter of the Shamrock boarded the Southfield, but found no gun. Four prisoners were taken there.
The ram is now completely submerged, and the enemy have sunk three schooners in the river to obstruct the passage of our ships.
I desire to call the attention of the admiral and Department to the spirit manifested by the sailors on the ships in these sounds. But few men were wanted, but all hands were eager to go into the action, many offering their chosen shipmates a month's pay to resign in their favor.
I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
W. B. CUSHING,
Lieutenant, U.S. Navy.
Rear-Admiral D. D. PORTER,
Commanding North Atlantic Squadron.
The name of the man who escaped is William Hoftman, seaman, on the Chicopee. He did his duty well, and deserves a medal of honor.
Respectfully,
W. B. CUSHING,
U.S. Navy.
CSS Albemarle salvaged after the war and photographed at the Norfolk Navy Yard:
With the Albemarle out of the way, Federal naval forces recaptured Plymouth on October 31, nearby the Albemarle, lay in the water with her casemate peeking above the surface. Cushing was a national celebrity and was quickly promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander to the date of his action, October 27, 1864. Cushing had a private audience with Abraham Lincoln, and received a Vote of Thanks from Congress. Admiral Porter said, “The gallant exploits of Lieutenant Cushing previous to this affair will form a bright page in the history of the war, but they have all been eclipsed by the destruction of the Albemarle.” Gideon Welles wrote, “"...the great chief of the American Navy, Farragut, who was endowed with like heroism, and for whom alone, the office of admiral was created and its honors intended, said to me that while no navy had braver or better officers than ours, young Cushing was the hero of the War." Abraham Lincoln added, “The destruction of so formidable a vessel, which had resisted the continued attacks of a number of our vessels on former occasions, is an important event touching our future naval and military operations, and would reflect honor on any officer, and redounds to the credit of this young officer." Herman Melville published a poem about Cushing titled, At Cannon’s Mouth. But perhaps the greatest praise came from the captain of the Albemarle Commander Alexander Fraser Worley, who wrote, “A more gallant thing was not done during the war."
Albemarle in Norfolk after the war:
In January 1865, Cushing reconnoitered the channel leading to Ft. Fisher while under heavy firing from the fort. A few days later, he led the Navy and Marine landing force that took the fort, again distinguishing himself greatly. After the war the Albemarle was raised. the Union gunboat USS Ceres towed Albemarle to the Norfolk Navy Yard where she arrived on April 27, 1865. On June 7, orders were issued to repair her hull, and she entered dry dock soon thereafter. The work was completed on August 14, 1865 and, ten days later, the ship was condemned by the Washington D.C. naval prize court. Purchased by the Navy, she saw little if any active service before being placed in dry-dock at Norfolk, where she remained until she was sold at public auction on October 15, 1867 to J.N. Leonard and Company for salvage.
Iron plates from the Albemarle on display in the Norfolk Navy Yard in 1960:
Following the Civil War, Cushing was executive officer of USS Lancaster and commanding officer of USS Maumee. In 1867 while on leave he met a friend of his sister’s Katherine Louise Forbes. He was immediately taken with “Kate”, and proposed marriage on July 1, 1867. However due to his duties they did not get married until February 22, 1870. They would have two daughters Marie Louise (born December 1, 1871) and Katherine Abell (born October 11, 1873) (both daughters would be old maids). He was promoted to Commander in 1872 and made captain of the USS Wyoming from 1873-74. In November 1873, he confronted Spanish authorities in Cuba and saved the lives of the passengers and crew of the steamer Virginius, who had been captured bringing men and supplies to Cuban revolutionaries. In 1873, He was transferred to the Washington Navy Yard, as its executive officer but soon his health started giving way. In December 1874 he was admitted to the navy hospital but was soon transferred to the Hospital for the Insane due to his need for constant care. He died on December 17, 1874 with his mother and wife at his side. Befitting his place in history, he was buried at the Naval Academy Cemetery at Annapolis, Maryland. The Cushing family is the only family to have a son buried at the U. S. Military Academy and the U.S. Naval academy cemeteries.
Cushing in 1870, just before his death:
His wife, Katherine Louise Forbes Cushing:
His grave at the USNA:
The navy named a series of torpedo boats and destroyers for William Barker Cushing. These include USS Cushing (TB-1)of 1890-1920, USS Cushing (DD-55) of 1915-1936, USS Cushing (DD-376) of 1936-1942, USS Cushing (DD-797) of 1944-1961, and the present USS Cushing (DD-985), commissioned in 1979.
[This message has been edited by BQ78 (edited 10/27/2008 9:29a).]