an's Cross Roads was important as raising the Federal
morale, as breaking through Johnston's right, and as opening the road
into eastern Tennessee. Short supplies and almost impassable roads,
however, prevented a further advance. One brigade was therefore
detached against Cumberland Gap, while the rest joined Buell's
command, which was engaged in organizing, drilling hard, and keeping
an eye on Johnston.

In February the scene of action changed to Johnston's left center,
where Forts Donelson and Henry were blocking the Federal advance
up the Cumberland and the Tennessee.

On the fourth, Flag-Officer Foote, with seven gunboats, of which
four were ironclads, led the way up the Tennessee, against Fort
Henry. That day the furious current was dashing driftwood in whirling
masses against the flotilla, which had all it could do to keep
station, even with double anchors down and full steam up. Next
morning a new danger appeared in the shape of what looked like a
school of dead porpoises. These were Confederate torpedoes, washed
from their moorings. As it was now broad daylight they were all
successfully avoided; and the crews felt as if they had won the
first round.

The sixth of February dawned clear, with just sufficient breeze to
blow the smoke away. The flotilla steamed up the swollen Tennessee
between the silent, densely wooded banks. Not a sound was heard
ashore until, just after noon, Fort Henry came into view and answered
the flagship's signal shot with a crashing discharge of all its
big guns. Then the fire waxed hot and heavy on both sides, the
gunboats knocking geyser-spouts of earth about the fort, and the
fort knocking gigantic splinters out of the gunboats. The _Essex_
ironclad was doing very well when a big shot crashed into her middle
boiler, which immediately burst like a shell, scalding the nearest
men to death, burning others, and sending the rest flying overboard
or aft. With both pilots dead and Commander W. D. Porter badly
scalded, the _Essex_ was drifting out of action when the word went
round that Fort Henry had surrendered: and there, sure enough,
were the Confederate colors coming down. Instantly Porter rallied
for the moment, called for three cheers, and fell back exhausted
at the third.

The Confederate General Tilghman surrendered to Foote with less
than a hundred men, all the rest, over twenty-five hundred, having
started towards Fort Donelson before the flag came down. The Western
Flotilla