A Strange Sail - NYTimes.com Hon. Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy, Washington, D.C. October 15, 1862 Sir: I am happy to inform you that Galveston, Corpus Christi, and Sabine City and the adjacent waters are now in our possession... I sent Commander W.B. Renshaw...to take Galveston, which he did in the shortest time, and without the loss of a man. -- D.G. Farragut, Rear-Admiral, Commanding, Western Gulf Blockading Squadron As the year 1862 ended, Union naval forces had consolidated effective control of much of the Texas Gulf Coast. From Sabine Pass in the North to the mouth of the Rio Grande, almost all of the roughly 450 miles of Texas coastline were safely in their hands. During that year, minor engagements at Corpus Christi, Galveston and Sabine Pass had effectively secured the coastline from most Confederate shipping. The capture of Galveston was the key. Texas was a large cotton producer, and its ability to trade with Mexico, Cuba and other nations through its Gulf ports - mainly Galveston - was crucial to finance the Confederate war effort. So when Union forces under Commander William Renshaw captured Galveston without loss on Oct. 9, Farragut was understandably enthusiastic. But naval fortunes can change as quickly as the wind. As the new year dawned, the Union navy was rocked by two disasters. Beginning with the loss of the celebrated ironclad U.S.S. Monitor in a gale off Cape Hatteras on New Year's Eve, followed by the successful surprise Confederate recapture of the Port of Galveston on New Year's morning, Union naval forces in one day suffered two devastating psychological and military setbacks. The tragic loss of the Monitor was more of an emotional blow to the country than a real military setback. The Monitor gained enduring fame by her standoff duel with the Confederate ironclad C.S.S. Virginia (formerly the U.S.S. Merrimac) in Hampton Roads, Va., after the Virginia had easily destroyed two Union warships the day before. The Monitor was rightly hailed as the savior of the Union fleet, and she came to symbolize Union ingenuity and technological superiority. On her heels, a whole fleet of "Monitors" came off northern shipyard docks to bolster the Union war effort. The loss of the port of Galveston, on the other hand, if not rectified, would be a strategic disaster. Farragut longed to be there himself to lead the Union vessels, but instead appointed his close associate Commodore Henry H. Bell to shore up and command the Galveston fleet, and accomplish the recapture of Galveston. Farragut sent what reinforcements he could spare from the Mississippi River force to enhance the Galveston fleet. Joining that effort was the U.S.S. Hatteras. The Hatteras was a twin sidewheel merchant steamer, converted to military use in 1861. Her captain, Lt. Cmdr. Homer C. Blake, was a graduate of the first midshipman's class at the United States Naval Academy in 1846. During 1862, Blake and the Hatteras saw successful action as a blockade vessel along the Florida and Louisiana coasts, capturing more than a dozen Confederate blockade runners, and establishing the Hatteras as a steady influence against more lightly armed vessels. On the late afternoon of Jan. 10, 1863, Blake and the Hatteras joined the sparse blockade squadron marking time just off Galveston Harbor. Another ship was lurking off Galveston that day, though. Carrying more sail, more steam and more firepower than any of the Union vessels, the notorious Confederate raider C.S.S. Alabama, under the command of the aggressive and vainglorious Capt. Raphael Semmes, had crossed the Gulf of Mexico from Yucatan to disrupt an expected expeditionary force of Union General Nathaniel Banks. Semmes in his memoirs noted that: My object, in running into the Gulf of Mexico, was to strike a blow at Banks' expedition, which was then fitting out for the invasion of Texas. This gentleman, who had been a prominent Massachusetts politician, but who had no sort of military talent, had risen to the surface with other scum, amid the bubbling and boiling of the Yankee cauldron, and was appointed by "Honest Abe" to subjugate Texas. Notwithstanding her captain's oceanic ego, the Alabama presented a real threat to Union shipping. Like the German U-Boats that followed some 80 years later, the Confederate raiders C.S.S. Alabama and C.S.S. Florida, built secretly in England and heavily armed, terrorized United States shipping in the Civil War. Between them, the Alabama and the Florida sank or captured more than 100 commercial vessels in a 26-month period in 1862-64. As a carefully planned Confederate strategy, however, none of those vessels were armed U.S. ships of war. The Florida's captain, John Maffitt, while under repairs in Mobile Bay, explained the strategy in his ship's log on Dec 1, 1862: Tis to the interest of the Confederacy that we get out intact, as my orders are to assail their commerce only As the Alabama and Florida are the only two cruisers we have just now, it would be a perfect absurdity to tilt against their more than three hundred, for the Federals would gladly sacrifice fifty armed ships to extinguish the two Confederates. Thus, both the Alabama and the Florida - each scarcely four months in service - had been careful to avoid direct conflict with armed U.S. naval vessels. Until now. On the afternoon of Jan. 11, five Union warships drifted in an uncertain flotilla just off Galveston Light. With no sufficient forces to retake the port, the blockade squadron seemed content with a show of military force sufficient to make its presence known, occasionally exploding a shell above the city. The squadron's unexpected presence foiled the Alabama's plans to destroy an unarmed merchant fleet intended to supply Banks. But Captain Semmes quickly devised an alternative strategy: I certainly had not come all the way into the Gulf of Mexico, to fight five ships of war . Whilst I was pondering the difficulty, the enemy himself, happily, came to my relief; for pretty soon the look-out again called from aloft, and said, 'One of the steamers, sir, is coming out in chase of us.' The Alabama had given chase pretty often, but this was the first time she had been chased. It was just the thing I wanted, however, for I at once conceived the design of drawing this single ship of the enemy far enough away from the remainder of her fleet, to enable me to decide a battle with her before her consorts could come to her relief. Upon spying the Alabama, Bell on his flagship U.S.S. Brooklyn signaled Blake on the Hatteras to investigate "the strange sail"; and the Hatteras immediately gave chase. Aware after a couple of hours that his slow-moving ship was gaining on the sleek Alabama, Blake guessed the Alabama's strategy. He nonetheless continued to pursue the raider without cover from any other vessels in the blockading squadron, perhaps underestimating the Alabama's massive firepower. After a "chase" of several hours, the Alabama suddenly heaved to and furled her sails some 20 miles south of Galveston, out of sight - but not out of earshot - of the Union forces. Anticipating her rival's actions, the Hatteras approached cautiously, with every gun manned. Blake hailed the Alabama, demanding to know what vessel she was. "This is her Britannic Majesty's steamer Petrel," the raider falsely replied. As soon as the Hatteras lowered a boat to go aboard the Alabama and confirm her identity, the Alabama from 100 yards away announced her true identity and simultaneously let loose a crippling broadside from her 100-pound gun, her 68-pounder, with a couple of 32-pounders to boot. Both the Alabama and the Hatteras recoiled under the shock of the surprise broadside, but the Hatteras immediately fired back. The two ships steamed side by side, jockeying for position, exchanging broadsides for about 15 minutes, sometimes only 50 yards apart. Under now-darkened skies, the sounds and lights of the furious engagement were heard and seen by the blockade squadron in Galveston, and a Union vessel as far as 80 miles away in Sabine Pass noted the flashes in the sky in the ship's log. As would be expected, the Alabama's powerful guns quickly won the day. As the Hatteras became disabled, caught fire and took on water, Blake fired a gun of surrender and the Alabama sent boats for her crew just before the ship sank in 60 feet of water. Two Hatteras crewman, the Irish-born fireman John G. Cleary and the coal heaver William Healy, died in the battle and were entombed with the ship. Blake was the last man to leave the sinking Hatteras, stepping onto a longboat even as her decks were awash. Immediately upon hearing the distant gunfire, the Brooklyn and two other gunboats from the blockade squadron steamed to the Hatteras's aid, but were unable to locate the combatants at night. Circling back towards Galveston the next day, the Brooklyn found the remains of the Hatteras upright in 9½ fathoms of water, her topmasts protruding and "a United States naval pennant flying gaily" in the breeze. Even in defeat, the Hatteras had not struck her colors. Meanwhile, the triumphant Alabama took the Hatteras's 118 officers and crew prisoners and set sail for Jamaica, depositing the survivors nine days later in Port Royal. Finding their way under the protection of the United States Consul in Jamaica, Blake and his remaining crew were soon returned to the United States. Although the Alabama was the clear victor, it cost more than $85,000 to repair the damage done by the Hatteras. The short but pitched battle between the Hatteras and the Alabama was unique, and had long-lasting military consequences. The Hatteras was the first - indeed the only - Union warship sunk by combat in the Gulf of Mexico. It became the only military vessel among the 100 victims of the Alabama and the Florida, demonstrating the inherent limitations of converting merchant ships to military use. And as a result of the engagement, now having lost his third Galveston warship in less than two weeks, Farragut was forced to pull back his forces. This final disaster at Galveston depressed Farragut. In a Jan. 13 letter to a friend, while anchored in his flagship Hartford off New Orleans, he confided: Yesterday was a sad day for me. I went to see [General] Banks, and he handed me a dispatch from the bar, announcing the loss of the Hatteras. Well I hope we shall soon have some good luck, for I am sick of disasters. I was in hopes Bell would retake Galveston, but the loss of the Hatteras throws him back. Farragut's son Loyall attended him in the evenings, as a guest of the admiral, and he closed the melancholy letter on behalf of his father: Father's eyes have given out, so I will finish this letter. He has been very much worried at these things, but tries to bear it like a philosopher. He knows he has done all in his power to avert it, with the vessels at his disposal. The news did not improve, and on Feb. 13, in still another letter, Farragut complained: "Our disaster at Galveston has thrown us back, and done more injury to the Navy than all events of the war." Farragut's pessimism proved correct. While he personally would see great glory in later engagements, the loss of the Hatteras was the final straw on the Texas coast, as Galveston remained in Confederate hands for the balance of the war, eventually becoming the last remaining port under Confederate control. Sources: Schmidt, James M., "Galveston and the Civil War: An Island City in the Maelstrom," The History Press, 2012; "Official Records of the Union and Confederate Navies in the War of the Rebellion." Series 1, Vol. 19; Diana J. Kleiner, "Galveston County," Handbook of Texas Online, accessed Oct. 23, 2012. Published by the Texas State Historical Association; "Memoirs of Service Afloat During the War Between the States"; Raphael Semmes, Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co., 1868; "CSS Florida, Ship's Log of Capt. John Maffitt,"; Farragut, L., "The Life of David Glasgow Farragut, First Admiral of the United States Navy," D. Appleton and Co., New York, 1891. Jed Morrison is a lawyer and Civil War enthusiast in San Antonio.