“Victorious in Defeat, and Covered with Glory”
Carte de visite by Whipple of Boston, Mass. During the wee hours of April 24, 1862, Lt. Charles Henry Swasey picked his way along the crowded deck of the warship Varuna and checked in with the 150-man crew. They had been called to quarters, and as executive officer it fell to him to be sure all was in order. He visited the bluejackets at each station and observed that they were calm and quiet.
As Swasey tended to his duties, the Varuna steamed steadily along the Mississippi River below New Orleans, smoke pouring from her single tall stack. Originally designed for commercial purposes, she had been converted into a fighting ship armed with ten powerful guns. Her commander, Charles S. Boggs, was a career navy man with more than three decades in the service.
On this night, the Varuna was in the vanguard of a Union armada. Four warships steamed ahead of her and twelve behind. The fleet was under the command of Rear Adm. David Farragut, a man determined to hoist the Stars and Stripes above the Pelican City.
To get there, Farragut had to pass the guns of Forts Jackson and St. Philip. The moon was just rising above the fortresses when the fleet came into range. About 3:30 a.m., Cmdr. Boggs recalled, the first rebel shots roared through the night sky. The firing intensified as 100 cannon pounded the Varuna and the rest of the fleet.
Boggs ordered Swasey to return fire. He immediately set the gun crews into motion. “When abreast of the forts we fired the starboard battery in broadside, then loaded with 5-second shell,” Swasey stated in his after-action report. “After the first discharge we loaded and fired grape and canister as rapidly as possible.” Amidst the drifting gun smoke and whistling shells, the fleet became disordered. The Varuna was the first to make it free and clear of the forts—and straight into a hornet’s nest of enemy gunboats.
There was no way out but forward. Boggs ordered his pilot to steer the Varuna to the swarm of enemy vessels at point blank range, and Swasey to open up with everything they had. “The order was given ‘to work both sides’ and to load with grape,” Swasey reported. “Our guns were trained for extreme lateral train forward, and as we brought them to bear successively on the enemy’s vessels, ranged in succession on each side of the river, we fired, the guns having been first pointed with the greatest care. As far as my own observation showed me, in no case did we miss the object aimed at, and the effect of our firing seemed to keep the enemy aloof.”
Swasey continued, “Finding that we were getting too far from the enemy for the use of grape, we loaded with 5-second shell and fired. One of these shells struck a steamer and, bursting, carried away his port wheelhouse and exploded his boiler. Three other steamers were set on fire and driven ashore by our shell.”
By this time it was about 6 a.m. and the crew of the Varuna had been in action for two-and-a-half hours. Twice set afire by shells, the crew had acted quickly to extinguish the flames. Leaking badly and losing steam, she had almost passed through the entire enemy squadron. But at this moment two rebel warships reinforced with railroad iron and cotton bales attacked. The Governor Moore hit first. The side-wheel cotton-clad raked the port gangway with shot that took out 13 crewmen and rammed the Varuna twice. Swasey, at Boggs’s command, poured a few shells into the Moore and drove her back. Then a second cotton-clad, the Stonewall Jackson, rammed the Varuna with her iron-sheathed bow. The Varuna rocked from the blow. Stonewall backed off and rammed her again in the same place. The iron bow crushed the wooden side of the Varuna—a mortal wound. Boggs and Swasey, still on their feet, kept the gunners on target. They pumped five shells into the Stonewall and sent her reeling.
The cotton-clads dropped out of range, and after close encounters with other vessels in Farragut’s armada they were destroyed. The Varuna meanwhile was in her death throes as she took on river water. “I ran her into the bank, let go the anchors, and tied up to the trees,” Boggs reported. Swasey kept the crew at the guns and continued to fire until the water was over the gun tracks on deck. At this point the ship was evacuated.
Boggs recalled, “We were taken off by boats from the squadron who had now come up; the crews cheering as the Varuna went down with her flag flying; victorious in defeat, and covered with glory.” The Varuna came to rest on the bottom of the Mississippi, only her topgallant forecastle visible above the waterline.
The Varuna was dead. Boggs, Swasey and their crewmates had inflicted serious damage on the rebel fleet. They had destroyed four warships outright and contributed to the destruction of two others. Five days later New Orleans fell to federal forces.
The story of the Varuna made newspaper headlines across the Union. The deeds of the crew became the stuff of legend, and inspired a poem. In The Varuna, George H. Boker celebrated the shop and extolled the crew: “Cherish the heroes who fought the Varuna; Treat them as kings if they honor your way.”
Swasey found temporary quarters on the Brooklyn, where he wrote a detailed after action report. He singled out a number of the crew for their actions, of which eight were awarded the Medal of Honor. Swasey also paid tribute to Boggs. “Permit me to thank you for the many kindnesses received at your hands while under your command, and I desire to express the regrets of the crew in losing a commander under whom they enjoyed many pleasant hours.”
Swasey’s compliment carried the weight of his own experience in the navy. Back in 1854, at age 15, he had left his family in Taunton, Massachusetts, and entered the Naval Academy. He graduated in 1859 and began his career on the Hartford, then a part of the East India Squadron. A few months after the start of the Civil War, he was promoted to lieutenant and before the end of the year was detached from the Hartford. In January 1862 he was assigned to the Varuna and the West Gulf Squadron. His tenure as executive officer of the Varuna lasted about three months.
Two weeks after the Varuna sunk, Swasey was named temporary commander of the Tennessee. The warship had been seized by rebels in 1861 and added to the Confederate navy. She was recaptured and returned to federal service after the fall of New Orleans.
Swasey soon left the Tennessee to become the executive officer of the gunboat Sciota. In the months that followed, the Sciota and other vessels came under increasing risk of ambush by partisan groups hidden along the Mississippi River. These irregular forces had moved into the area north of New Orleans following the occupation of the city.
During the early fall of 1862 Swasey and the Sciota joined a convoy charged with the disruption of enemy supply routes from Texas to the eastern Confederacy. On October 1, near Donaldsonville, Louisiana, they spotted a herd of 1,500 longhorn cattle. Swasey was placed in command of a landing party and sent to investigate. He returned with five drovers. After an interrogation, it was learned that the cattle were headed from Texas to Camp Moore, a Confederate base about 80 miles north. The navy confiscated the herd and loaded most of the cattle on five transports.
On the afternoon of October 4, the convoy set out for New Orleans with the Sciota in the lead. About 2:10 p.m. a few miles south of Donaldsonville, a masked battery opened fire on the Sciota. Anticipating an attack, the decks had been cleared and the crew immediately went into action. Swasey aimed a gun at the battery and just as it fired a 12-pound rebel shot tore through the bulwark of the Sciota. It struck Swasey in the hip and hand, almost severing his body in two. He lingered until about 3 o’clock. His last words were, “Tell my mother I tried to be a good man.” He was 28 years old.
The following morning, a Sunday, the Sciota and the rest of the convoy arrived in New Orleans and Swasey’s remains were sent ashore. Later that day funeral services were held and the body transferred to the steamer Potomac for the final journey to his family in Massachusetts. His remains are buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery in Taunton, Mass.
The commander of the Sciota, Reigart B. Lowry, paid tribute to his executive officer in an official report. “This officer was characterized by all the elements which make up the hero—brave, imbued with patriotic ardor and professional ambition, chivalric as a gentleman, gentle, and with a heart full of Christian principles.” He added, “I respectfully request that his death, so heroic and noble, may be especially known to the nation through the Navy Department.”
Two fighting ships were named in his honor, a destroyer commissioned in 1919 and a destroyer escort launched in 1943.
I encourage you to use this image for educational purposes only. However, please ask for permission.
“Victorious in Defeat, and Covered with Glory”
Carte de visite by Whipple of Boston, Mass. During the wee hours of April 24, 1862, Lt. Charles Henry Swasey picked his way along the crowded deck of the warship Varuna and checked in with the 150-man crew. They had been called to quarters, and as executive officer it fell to him to be sure all was in order. He visited the bluejackets at each station and observed that they were calm and quiet.
As Swasey tended to his duties, the Varuna steamed steadily along the Mississippi River below New Orleans, smoke pouring from her single tall stack. Originally designed for commercial purposes, she had been converted into a fighting ship armed with ten powerful guns. Her commander, Charles S. Boggs, was a career navy man with more than three decades in the service.
On this night, the Varuna was in the vanguard of a Union armada. Four warships steamed ahead of her and twelve behind. The fleet was under the command of Rear Adm. David Farragut, a man determined to hoist the Stars and Stripes above the Pelican City.
To get there, Farragut had to pass the guns of Forts Jackson and St. Philip. The moon was just rising above the fortresses when the fleet came into range. About 3:30 a.m., Cmdr. Boggs recalled, the first rebel shots roared through the night sky. The firing intensified as 100 cannon pounded the Varuna and the rest of the fleet.
Boggs ordered Swasey to return fire. He immediately set the gun crews into motion. “When abreast of the forts we fired the starboard battery in broadside, then loaded with 5-second shell,” Swasey stated in his after-action report. “After the first discharge we loaded and fired grape and canister as rapidly as possible.” Amidst the drifting gun smoke and whistling shells, the fleet became disordered. The Varuna was the first to make it free and clear of the forts—and straight into a hornet’s nest of enemy gunboats.
There was no way out but forward. Boggs ordered his pilot to steer the Varuna to the swarm of enemy vessels at point blank range, and Swasey to open up with everything they had. “The order was given ‘to work both sides’ and to load with grape,” Swasey reported. “Our guns were trained for extreme lateral train forward, and as we brought them to bear successively on the enemy’s vessels, ranged in succession on each side of the river, we fired, the guns having been first pointed with the greatest care. As far as my own observation showed me, in no case did we miss the object aimed at, and the effect of our firing seemed to keep the enemy aloof.”
Swasey continued, “Finding that we were getting too far from the enemy for the use of grape, we loaded with 5-second shell and fired. One of these shells struck a steamer and, bursting, carried away his port wheelhouse and exploded his boiler. Three other steamers were set on fire and driven ashore by our shell.”
By this time it was about 6 a.m. and the crew of the Varuna had been in action for two-and-a-half hours. Twice set afire by shells, the crew had acted quickly to extinguish the flames. Leaking badly and losing steam, she had almost passed through the entire enemy squadron. But at this moment two rebel warships reinforced with railroad iron and cotton bales attacked. The Governor Moore hit first. The side-wheel cotton-clad raked the port gangway with shot that took out 13 crewmen and rammed the Varuna twice. Swasey, at Boggs’s command, poured a few shells into the Moore and drove her back. Then a second cotton-clad, the Stonewall Jackson, rammed the Varuna with her iron-sheathed bow. The Varuna rocked from the blow. Stonewall backed off and rammed her again in the same place. The iron bow crushed the wooden side of the Varuna—a mortal wound. Boggs and Swasey, still on their feet, kept the gunners on target. They pumped five shells into the Stonewall and sent her reeling.
The cotton-clads dropped out of range, and after close encounters with other vessels in Farragut’s armada they were destroyed. The Varuna meanwhile was in her death throes as she took on river water. “I ran her into the bank, let go the anchors, and tied up to the trees,” Boggs reported. Swasey kept the crew at the guns and continued to fire until the water was over the gun tracks on deck. At this point the ship was evacuated.
Boggs recalled, “We were taken off by boats from the squadron who had now come up; the crews cheering as the Varuna went down with her flag flying; victorious in defeat, and covered with glory.” The Varuna came to rest on the bottom of the Mississippi, only her topgallant forecastle visible above the waterline.
The Varuna was dead. Boggs, Swasey and their crewmates had inflicted serious damage on the rebel fleet. They had destroyed four warships outright and contributed to the destruction of two others. Five days later New Orleans fell to federal forces.
The story of the Varuna made newspaper headlines across the Union. The deeds of the crew became the stuff of legend, and inspired a poem. In The Varuna, George H. Boker celebrated the shop and extolled the crew: “Cherish the heroes who fought the Varuna; Treat them as kings if they honor your way.”
Swasey found temporary quarters on the Brooklyn, where he wrote a detailed after action report. He singled out a number of the crew for their actions, of which eight were awarded the Medal of Honor. Swasey also paid tribute to Boggs. “Permit me to thank you for the many kindnesses received at your hands while under your command, and I desire to express the regrets of the crew in losing a commander under whom they enjoyed many pleasant hours.”
Swasey’s compliment carried the weight of his own experience in the navy. Back in 1854, at age 15, he had left his family in Taunton, Massachusetts, and entered the Naval Academy. He graduated in 1859 and began his career on the Hartford, then a part of the East India Squadron. A few months after the start of the Civil War, he was promoted to lieutenant and before the end of the year was detached from the Hartford. In January 1862 he was assigned to the Varuna and the West Gulf Squadron. His tenure as executive officer of the Varuna lasted about three months.
Two weeks after the Varuna sunk, Swasey was named temporary commander of the Tennessee. The warship had been seized by rebels in 1861 and added to the Confederate navy. She was recaptured and returned to federal service after the fall of New Orleans.
Swasey soon left the Tennessee to become the executive officer of the gunboat Sciota. In the months that followed, the Sciota and other vessels came under increasing risk of ambush by partisan groups hidden along the Mississippi River. These irregular forces had moved into the area north of New Orleans following the occupation of the city.
During the early fall of 1862 Swasey and the Sciota joined a convoy charged with the disruption of enemy supply routes from Texas to the eastern Confederacy. On October 1, near Donaldsonville, Louisiana, they spotted a herd of 1,500 longhorn cattle. Swasey was placed in command of a landing party and sent to investigate. He returned with five drovers. After an interrogation, it was learned that the cattle were headed from Texas to Camp Moore, a Confederate base about 80 miles north. The navy confiscated the herd and loaded most of the cattle on five transports.
On the afternoon of October 4, the convoy set out for New Orleans with the Sciota in the lead. About 2:10 p.m. a few miles south of Donaldsonville, a masked battery opened fire on the Sciota. Anticipating an attack, the decks had been cleared and the crew immediately went into action. Swasey aimed a gun at the battery and just as it fired a 12-pound rebel shot tore through the bulwark of the Sciota. It struck Swasey in the hip and hand, almost severing his body in two. He lingered until about 3 o’clock. His last words were, “Tell my mother I tried to be a good man.” He was 28 years old.
The following morning, a Sunday, the Sciota and the rest of the convoy arrived in New Orleans and Swasey’s remains were sent ashore. Later that day funeral services were held and the body transferred to the steamer Potomac for the final journey to his family in Massachusetts. His remains are buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery in Taunton, Mass.
The commander of the Sciota, Reigart B. Lowry, paid tribute to his executive officer in an official report. “This officer was characterized by all the elements which make up the hero—brave, imbued with patriotic ardor and professional ambition, chivalric as a gentleman, gentle, and with a heart full of Christian principles.” He added, “I respectfully request that his death, so heroic and noble, may be especially known to the nation through the Navy Department.”
Two fighting ships were named in his honor, a destroyer commissioned in 1919 and a destroyer escort launched in 1943.
I encourage you to use this image for educational purposes only. However, please ask for permission.