The Attack on Fort Fisher in December 1864 represented a crucial Union effort to sever the Confederacy’s last major lifeline: the port of Wilmington, North Carolina. This formidable earthwork fortress, often called the ‘Gibraltar of the Confederacy,’ stood as the impenetrable guardian of the Cape Fear River’s mouth, a favored and vital entrance for resourceful blockade runners supplying the beleaguered South with essential goods and munitions.
The strategic imperative behind the Fort Fisher attack was immense, aiming to choke off the flow of supplies that kept the Confederate war effort alive. To achieve this, a massive Union fleet had been meticulously assembled at Hampton Roads, Virginia, poised for an operation of unprecedented scale and daring.
Preparations for the Grand Assault
In November 1864, Admiral David D. Porter assumed command of the North Atlantic Blockading Squadron and immediately began preparations for what would be one of the largest naval bombardments of the Civil War. He assembled a truly powerful fleet, a diverse armada ranging from the heaviest monitors to the nimble gunboats, representing every class of vessel under the American flag at that time. Every detail was meticulously addressed: boilers and machinery underwent thorough overhauls, magazines were fully replenished with shot and shell, and storehouses overflowed with provisions. Crucially, a rigorous regimen of constant target practice was enforced across all ships, ensuring that every gun crew was honed to peak efficiency.
By the close of November, this colossal fleet, unmatched in its collective power, lay ready in Hampton Roads. While the ultimate destination remained a closely guarded secret, the intense preparations, particularly the daily target practice and the drills for men landing on beaches, strongly suggested to the sailors that a significant and decisive land-sea operation was imminent. There was a palpable sense of anticipation and determination amongst the ranks, with a clear understanding that Admiral Porter intended for every shot to count when the moment of action arrived.
The Ill-Fated Powder Boat Scheme
Early in December, the transport ships arrived, carrying a substantial land force of 13,000 men under the command of Union General Benjamin F. Butler. Despite this significant addition, the precise objective of the mission remained shrouded in secrecy. As mid-December approached and all preparations were complete, the vast fleet set sail under sealed orders, a testament to the Union command’s desire for tactical surprise.
Before departing Fortress Monroe, General Butler had put forth an audacious and unconventional plan: the use of a ‘powder boat.’ He envisioned an old steamer, the Georgiana, laden with several hundred tons of gunpowder, being detonated near the Confederate fortifications on Federal Point. Butler was confident that the sheer force of the explosion would seriously damage the formidable defenses, including Fort Fisher, effectively dismounting most of its guns and leveling its earthworks. A small, courageous crew of volunteers took charge of the Georgiana, steering her towards her explosive destiny on the evening of December 24.
However, skepticism pervaded the navy regarding the powder boat’s potential effectiveness. Few believed it would inflict significant harm, though none could have predicted just how minimal the impact would actually be. At eleven o’clock that night, Admiral Porter, aboard his flagship, the side-wheeled steamer Malvern, signaled the fleet: “Powder boat will blow up at 1:30 A.M. Be prepared to get underway, and stand in to engage the fort!” Sleep became impossible as the hours slowly ticked by. The expected explosion at 1:30 AM did not occur, raising fears of a mishap. Then, precisely at two o’clock, it happened. A gentle vibration heralded the event, followed by the violent shaking of masts and spars, and a low rumble like distant thunder. The sky to the westward was briefly illuminated, and then massive clouds of powder smoke hung over the land. The powder boat had indeed blown up, and as the fleet rapidly formed for battle, a great curiosity swept through the ships to witness the anticipated damage.
The Initial Naval Engagement and Disappointment
As daylight broke, the Union fleet headed towards the fort, almost within range. To their dismay, General Butler’s flagship was observed steaming in at full speed, heading directly for Fort Fisher. The fort itself appeared grim, strong, and conspicuously uninjured – a stark contrast to Butler’s confident predictions. The silence was unnerving until Butler’s ship entered the fort’s range. Suddenly, a flash from the fort, a prolonged roar, and all the Confederate guns on that face of the work opened fire upon his vessel. Any notion Butler might have harbored of an unopposed landing was swiftly dispelled. The rapid retreat of his ship, turning and fleeing offshore with impressive haste, spoke volumes for the energy of her fire-room crew. The last glimpse of her showed her racing eastward as fast as her engines could carry her. The powder boat had failed utterly, and General Butler’s grievous disappointment was evident. A captured rebel newspaper, in a moment of irony, even reported that a Yankee gunboat had exploded on the beach, with all hands lost.
Aboard the USS Malvern: A Seaman’s Perspective
Robley D. Evans, an officer present during this pivotal Fort Fisher attack, recounts the intense experience. After a night spent awake, breakfast consisted only of coffee and hardtack. As their ship approached its assigned firing position, Commodore Schenck ordered Evans aloft with a pair of glasses to locate a particularly troublesome battery. It was a raw, cold morning, and Evans, clad in a short double-breasted coat, had several pieces of hardtack stowed in his pockets. Perched in the mizzen rigging, just below the top, he placed a corner of hardtack in his mouth, holding it between his teeth while he scanned the horizon for the enemy guns.
He quickly spotted them and observed the Confederate gunners training one directly towards his vessel, its muzzle ominously visible. A puff of smoke, a streaking object like a lamppost across his field of vision, and a moment later, the rigging four feet below him was severed, causing him to swing violently into the mast. His immediate thought turned to his hardtack, which was now gone, not even a crumb remaining – he was sure he had swallowed it whole. After reporting the battery’s location, he was ordered to descend to his station, in charge of a division of guns. His knees were shaking, and he hesitated, fearful the men would notice his nervous tremor. However, he had no choice but to descend. Upon reaching the deck, he stood tall, relieved that his legs betrayed none of the nervousness he had felt. He quickly became engrossed in his duties, and his apprehension soon dissipated.
Close-Range Combat and Naval Resilience
The Union vessel anchored with only 18 inches of water beneath its keel, immediately commencing rapid fire. A wrecked blockade runner lay between their ship and the enemy battery, clearly having served as a pre-sighted target, its range intimately known to the Confederate gunners. Initial shots from the fort landed in line with the wreck, each one drawing closer to the Union ship. Soon, a devastating ten-inch shot struck, followed by four more, each hitting nearly the same spot: on the bends forward of the starboard wheel, penetrating deep into the berth deck. Then, for reasons unknown to the Union crew, the shot and shell began passing over them, striking the water some thirty or forty feet away. It was surmised that the Confederate gunners, unable to precisely observe the splash of their shots, mistakenly believed they were hitting the target. Had they not altered their range at that critical moment, the Union ship would likely have been sunk within an hour. As dusk fell, the battered and leaking vessel was forced to haul out, its guns shifted to port to help stop the multiple shot holes.
Impact and Withdrawal
Despite the harrowing experience and the minimal impact of the powder boat, the naval bombardment had inflicted considerable damage upon Fort Fisher. Several of its guns were dismounted, and the barracks and officers’ quarters within the fort were set ablaze. When the entire Union line was fully engaged, the spectacle was magnificent, a sight never to be forgotten by those who witnessed it. No fort had ever before been subjected to such an intense and sustained volume of fire. The Confederate garrison, overwhelmed by the continuous onslaught, could only manage a feeble response. Most of the defenders were driven into the bomb-proofs, where they remained until the Union fleet withdrew for the night. On the Union side, the heaviest casualties were tragically caused by the bursting of their own 100-pound Parrott rifles, resulting in thirty-five to forty men killed or wounded in this dreadful manner.
Conclusion: The First Salvo
The initial attack on Fort Fisher in December 1864, though ultimately unsuccessful in its immediate objective of capturing the stronghold, served as a powerful demonstration of Union naval might and a crucial precursor to future engagements. While General Butler’s powder boat scheme proved a monumental failure and the land assault was abandoned, the naval bombardment inflicted significant damage, testing the fort’s defenses and providing invaluable intelligence for subsequent operations. This first attempt highlighted the immense challenge posed by Fort Fisher, yet it also underscored the unwavering determination of the Union forces to sever the Confederacy’s final supply artery and bring the devastating Civil War to an end.
