Showing posts with label Elizabeth River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elizabeth River. Show all posts

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Lieutenant-General Winfield Scott, May 29, 1861

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF VIRGINIA,
May 29, 1861.

SIR: The expedition to Newport News, of which I spoke in my last, eight miles from this place, landed without opposition. 1 have caused an intrenched camp to be made there, which, when completed, will be able to hold itself against any force that may be brought against it, and afford even a better depot from which to advance than Fortress Monroe. The advantages of the News are these: There are two springs of very pure water there; the bluff is a fine, healthy location. It has two good, commodious wharves, to which steamers of any draught of water may come up at all stages of the tide; it is as near any point of operation as Fortress Monroe, where we are obliged to lighter all vessels of draught over ten feet, and have but one wharf. The News, upon which I propose to have a water battery of four 8-inch guns, commands the ship channel of James River, and a force there is a perpetual threat to Richmond.

My next point of operation I propose shall be Pig Point, which is exactly opposite the News, commanding Nansemond River. Once in command of that battery, which I believe may be easily turned, I can then advance along the Nansemond River and easily take Suffolk, and there either hold or destroy the railroad both between Richmond and Norfolk, and also between Norfolk and the South. With a perfect blockade of Elizabeth River, and taking and holding Suffolk and perhaps York, Norfolk will be so perfectly hemmed in, that starvation will cause the surrender, without risking an attack on the strongly-fortified intrenchments around Norfolk, with great loss and perhaps defeat.

If this plan of operations does not meet the approval of the Lieutenant-General I would be glad of his instructions specifically. If it is desirable to move on Richmond, James and York Rivers, both thus held, would seem to be the most eligible routes.

I have no co-operation substantially by the Navy, the only vessels here now being the Cumberland and Harriet Lane, the former too unwieldy to get near shore to use her heavy guns, the other so light in her battery as not to be able to cope with a single battery of the rebels.

I have yet need of surf-boats for sea-coast and river advances, and beg leave to suggest this matter again to you.

This evening the First New York Regiment, three years' men, came in on board the State of Georgia. It is in a most shameful state as regards camp equipage, camp kettles, &c.

Another matter needs pressing attention. The bore of a majority of the muskets in my command is smooth, of the issue of '48, and I have only 5,000 rounds of buck and ball and no other ammunition to fit this arm. Might I request immediate action upon this vital subject!

I have the honor to be, your obedient servant,

BENJ. F. BUTLER.
Major-General, Commanding.
General WINFIELD SCOTT.

SOURCES: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 2 (Serial No. 2), p. 54

Friday, December 9, 2016

Diary of Gideon Welles: Saturday, January 3, 1863

We have, yesterday and to-day, broken accounts of a great fight for three days — and not yet terminated — at Murfreesborough, Tennessee. All statements say we have the best, that we shall beat the Rebels, that we have pierced their centre, that we are driving them through M., etc. I hope to hear we have done instead of we “shall” do. None of our army fights have been finished, but are drawn battles, — worrying, exhausting, but never completed. Of Rosecrans I have thought better and hope a good account of his work, but the best sometimes fail, and he may not be best.

A word by telegraph that the Monitor has foundered and over twenty of her crew, including some officers, are lost. The fate of this vessel affects me in other respects. She is a primary representative of a class identified with my administration of the Navy. Her novel construction and qualities I adopted and she was built amidst obloquy and ridicule. Such a change in the character of a fighting vessel few naval men, or any Secretary under their influence, would have taken the responsibility of adopting. But Admiral Smith and finally all the Board which I appointed seconded my views, and were willing, Davis somewhat reluctantly, to recommend the experiment if I would assume the risk and responsibility. Her success with the Merrimac directly after she went into commission relieved me of odium and anxiety, and men who were preparing to ridicule were left to admire.

When Bushnell of New Haven brought me the first model and plan, I was favorably impressed. I was then in Hartford, proposing to remove my family, but sent him at once to Washington, following myself within a day or two. Understanding that Ericsson, the inventor, was sensitive in consequence of supposed slight and neglect by the Navy Department or this Government some years ago, I made it a point to speak to Admiral Smith, Chairman of the Board, and specially request that he should be treated tenderly, and opportunity given him for full and deliberate hearing. I found Admiral Smith well disposed. The plan was adopted, and the test of her fighting and resisting power was by an arrangement between Admiral Smith and myself, without communication with any other, that she should, when completed, go at once up Elizabeth River to Norfolk Navy Yard, and destroy the Merrimac while in the dry dock, and the dock itself. Had she been completed within the contract time, one hundred days, this purpose would have been accomplished, but there was delay and disappointment, and her prowess was exhibited in a conflict with her huge antagonist under much more formidable circumstances. Her career since the time she first entered Hampton Roads is public history, but her origin, and everything in relation to her, from the inception, have been since her success designedly misrepresented.

Admiral Smith beyond any other person is deserving of credit, if credit be due any one connected with the Navy Department for this vessel. Had she been a failure, he, more than any one but the Secretary, would have been blamed, and [he] was fully aware that he would have to share with me the odium and the responsibility. Let him, therefore, have the credit which is justly his.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 213-5

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Diary of William Howard Russell: Sunday, April 14, 1861

A night of disturbed sleep, owing to the ponderous thumping of the walking beam close to my head, the whizzing of steam, and the roaring of the steam-trumpet to warn vessels out of the way — mosquitoes, too, had a good deal to say to me in spite of my dirty gauze curtains. Soon after dawn the vessel ran alongside the jetty at Fortress Monroe, and I saw indistinctly the waterface of the work which is in some danger of being attacked, it is said, by the Virginians. There was no flag on the staff above the walls, and the place looked dreary and desolate. It has a fine bastioned profile, with moat and armed lunettes — the casemates were bricked up or occupied by glass windows, and all the guns I could make out were on the parapets. A few soldiers were lounging on the jetty, and after we had discharged a tipsy old officer, a few negroes, and some parcels, the steam-pipe brayed —it does not whistle— again, and we proceeded across the mouth of the channel and James River towards Elizabeth River, on which stand Portsmouth and Gosport.

Just as I was dressing, the door opened, and a tall, neatly dressed negress came in and asked me for my ticket. She told me she was ticket-collector for the boat, and that she was a slave. The latter intelligence was given without any reluctance or hesitation. On my way to the upper deck I observed the bar was crowded by gentlemen engaged in consuming, or waiting for, cocktails or mint-juleps. The latter, however, could not be had just now in such perfection as usual, owing to the inferior condition of the mint. In the matter of drinks, how hospitable the Americans are! I was asked to take as many as would have rendered me incapable of drinking again; my excuse on the plea of inability to grapple with cocktails and the like before breakfast, was heard with surprise, and I was urgently entreated to abandon so bad a habit.

A clear, fine sun rose from the waters of the bay up into the purest of pure blue skies. On our right lay a low coast fringed with trees, and wooded densely with stunted forest, through which creeks could be seen glinting far through the foliage. Anxious looking little wooden lighthouses, hard set to preserve their equilibrium in the muddy waters, and bent at various angles, marked the narrow channels to the towns and hamlets on the banks, the principal trade and occupation of which are oyster selling and oyster eating. We are sailing over wondrous deposits and submarine crops of the much-loved bivalve. Wooden houses painted white appear on the shores, and one large building with wings and a central portico surmounted by a belvedere, destined for the reception of the United States sailors in sickness, is a striking object in the landscape.

The steamer in a few minutes came along-side a dirty, broken-down, wooden quay, lined with open booths, on which a small crowd, mostly of negroes, had gathered. Behind the shed there rose tiled and shingled roofs of mean dingy houses, and we could catch glimpses of the line of poor streets, narrow, crooked, ill-paved, surmounted by a few church-steeples, and the large sprawling advertisement-boards of the tobacco-stores and oyster-sellers, which was all we could see of Portsmouth or Gosport. Our vessel was in a narrow creek; at one side was the town — in the centre of the stream the old “Pennsylvania,” intended to be of 120 guns, but never commissioned, and used as receiving ship, was anchored — alongside the wall of the Navy Yard below us, lay the “Merrimac,” apparently in ordinary. The only man-of-war fit for sea was a curiosity — a stumpy bluff-bowed, Dutch-built looking sloop, called the "Cumberland." Two or three smaller vessels, dismasted, were below the “Merrimac,” and we could just see the building-sheds in which were one or two others, I believe, on the stocks. A fleet of oyster-boats anchored, or in sailless observance of the Sunday, dotted the waters. There was an ancient and fishlike smell about the town worthy of its appearance and of its functions as a seaport. As the vessel came close along-side, there was the usual greeting between friends, and many a cry, “Well, you've heard the news? The Yankees out of Sumter! Isn't it fine!” There were few who did not participate in that sentiment, but there were some who looked black as night and said nothing.

Whilst we were waiting for the steam ferry-boat, which plies to Norfolk at the other side of the creek, to take us over, a man-of-war boat pulled along-side, and the coxswain, a handsome, fine-looking sailor, came on deck, and, as I happened to be next him, asked me if Captain Blank had come down with us? I replied, that I did not know, but that the captain could tell him no doubt. “He?” said the sailor, pointing with great disgust to the skipper of the steamer. “Why he knows nothin’ of his passengers, except how many dollars they come to,” and started off to prosecute his inquiries among the other passengers. The boat along-side was clean, and was manned by six as stout fellows as ever handled an oar. Two I made sure of were Englishmen, and when the coxswain was retiring from his fruitless search, I asked him where he hailed from. “The Cove of Cork. I was in the navy nine years, but when I got on the West Ingy Station, I heerd how Uncle Sam treated his fellows, and so I joined him.” “Cut and run, I suppose?” “Well, not exactly. I got away, sir. Emigrated, you know!” “Are there any other Irishmen or Englishmen on board?” “I should think there was. That man in the bow there is a mate of mine, from the sweet Cove of Cork; Driscoll by name, and there's a Belfast man pulls number two; and the stroke, and the chap that pulls next to him is Englishmen, and fine sailors they are, Bates and Rookey. They were in men-of-war too.” “What! five out of seven, British subjects!” “Oh, ay, that is — we onst was — most of us now are 'Mericans, I think. There's plenty more of us aboard the ship.”

The steam ferry was a rickety affair, and combined with the tumble-down sheds and quays to give a poor idea of Norfolk. The infliction of tobacco-juice on board was remarkable. Although it was but seven o'clock every one had his quid in working order, and the air was filled with yellowish-brown rainbows and liquid parabolas, which tumbled in spray or in little flocks of the weed on the foul decks. As it was Sunday, some of the numerous flagstaff's which adorn the houses in both cities displayed the United States bunting; but nothing could relieve the decayed air of Norfolk. The omnibus which was waiting to receive us must have been the earliest specimen of carriage building in that style on the continent; and as it lunged and flopped over the prodigious bad pavement, the severe nature of which was aggravated by a street railway, it opened the seams as if it were going to fall into firewood. The shops were all closed, of course; but the houses, wooden and brick, were covered with signs and placards indicative of large trade in tobacco and oysters.

Poor G. P. R. James, who spent many years here, could have scarce caught a novel from such a place, spite of great oysters, famous wild fowl, and the lauded poultry and vegetables which are produced in the surrounding districts. There is not a hill for the traveller to ascend towards the close of a summer's day, nor a moated castle for a thousand miles around. An execrable, tooth-cracking drive ended at last in front of the Atlantic Hotel, where I was doomed to take up my quarters. It is a dilapidated, uncleanly place, with tobacco-stained floor, full of flies and strong odors. The waiters were all slaves: untidy, slipshod, and careless creatures. I was shut up in a small room, with the usual notice on the door, that the proprietor would not be responsible for anything, and that you were to lock your doors for fear of robbers, and that you must take your meals at certain hours, and other matters of the kind. My umbra went over to Gosport to take some sketches, he said; and after a poor meal, in a long room filled with “citizens,” all of them discussing Sumter, I went out into the street.

The people, I observe, are of a new and marked type, — very tall, loosely yet powerfully made, with dark complexions, strongly-marked features, prominent noses, large angular mouths in square jaws, deep-seated bright eyes, low, narrow foreheads, — and are all of them much given to ruminate tobacco. The bells of the churches were tolling, and I turned into one; but the heat, great enough outside, soon became nearly intolerable; nor was it rendered more bearable by my proximity to some blacks, who were, I presume, servants or slaves of the great people in the forward pews. The clergyman or minister had got to the Psalms, when a bustle arose near the door which attracted his attention, and caused all to turn round. Several persons were standing up and whispering, whilst others were stealing on tiptoe out of the church. The influence extended itself gradually and all the men near the door were leaving rapidly. The minister, obviously interested, continued to read, raising his eyes towards the door. At last the persons near him rose up and walked boldly forth, and I at length followed the example, and getting into the street, saw men running towards the hotel. “What is it?” exclaimed I to one. “Come along, the telegraph's in at the ‘Day Book.’ The Yankees are whipped!” and so continued. I came at last to a crowd of men, struggling, with their faces toward the wall of a shabby house, increased by fresh arrivals, and diminished by those who, having satisfied their curiosity, came elbowing forth in a state of much excitement, exultation, and perspiration. “It's all right enough!” “Didn't I tell you so?” “Bully for Beauregard and the Palmetto State!” I shoved on, and read at last the programme of the cannonade and bombardment, and of the effects upon the fort, on a dirty piece of yellowish paper on the wall. It was a terrible writing. At all the street corners men were discussing the news with every symptom of joy and gratification. Now I confess I could not share in the excitement at all. The act seemed to me the prelude to certain war.

I walked up the main street, and turned up some of the alleys to have a look at the town, coming out on patches of water and bridges over the creeks, or sandy lanes shaded by trees, and lined here and there by pretty wooden villas, painted in bright colors. Everywhere negroes, male and female, gaudily dressed or in rags; the door-steps of the narrow lanes swarming with infant niggerdom — big-stomached, curve-legged, rugged-headed, and happy — tumbling about dim-eyed toothless hags, or thick-lipped mothers. Not a word were they talking about Sumter. “Any news to-day?” said I to a respectable-looking negro in a blue coat and brass buttons, wonderful hat, and vest of amber silk, check trousers, and very broken-down shoes. “Well, sare, I tink nothin' much occur. Der hem afire at Squire Nichol's house last night; leastway so I hear, sare.” Squire, let me say parenthetically, is used to designate justices of the peace. Was it a very stupid poco-curante, or a very cunning, subtle Sambo?

In my walk I arrived at a small pier, covered with oyster shells, which projected into the sea. Around it, on both sides, were hosts of schooners and pungys, smaller half-decked boats, waiting for their load of the much-loved fish for Washington, Baltimore, and Richmond. Some brigs and large vessels lay along-side the wharves and large warehouses higher up the creek. Observing a small group at the end of the pier, I walked on, and found that they consisted of fifteen or twenty well-dressed mechanical kind of men, busily engaged in “chaffing,” as Cockneys would call it, the crew of the man-of-war boat I had seen in the morning. The sailors were stretched on the thwarts, some rather amused, others sullen at the ordeal. “You better just pull down that cussed old rag of yours, and bring your old ship over to the Southern Confederacy. I guess we can take your ‘Cumberland’ whenever we like! Why don't you go, and touch off your guns at Charleston?” Presently the coxswain came down with a parcel under his arm, and stepped into the boat. “Give way, my lads;” and the oars dipped in the water. When the boat had gone a few yards from the shore, the crowd cried out: “Down with the Yankees! Hurrah for the Southern Confederacy!” and some among them threw oyster shells at the boat, one of which struck the coxswain on the head. “Backwater! Back water all. Hard!” he shouted; and as the boat's stern neared the land, he stood up and made a leap in among the crowd like a tiger. “You cowardly d----d set. Who threw the shells?” No one answered at first, but a little wizened man at last squeaked out: “I guess you'll have shells of another kind if you remain here much longer.” The sailor howled with rage: “Why, you poor devils, I'd whip any half-dozen of you, — teeth, knives, and all — in five minutes; and my boys there in the boat would clear your whole town. What do you mean by barking at the Stars and Stripes? Do you see that ship?” he shouted, pointing towards the “Cumberland.” “Why the lads aboard of her would knock every darned seceder in your State into a cocked hat in a brace of shakes! And now who's coming on?” The invitation was not accepted, and the sailor withdrew, with his angry eyes fixed on the people, who gave him a kind of groan; but there were no oyster shells this time. “In spite of his blowing, I tell yer,” said one of them, “there's some good men from old Virginny abo'rd o' that ship that will never fire a shot agin us.” “Oh, we'll fix her right enough,” remarked another, “when the time comes.” I returned to my room, sat down, and wrote for some hours. The dinner in the Atlantic Hotel was of a description to make one wish the desire for food had never been invented. My neighbor said he was not “quite content about this Sumter business. There's nary one killed nor wownded.”

Sunday is a very dull day in Norfolk, — no mails, no post, no steamers; and, at the best, Norfolk must be dull exceedingly. The superintendent of the Seaboard and Roanoke Railway, having heard that I was about proceeding to Charleston, called upon me to offer every facility in his power. Sent Moses with letters to post-office. At night the mosquitoes were very aggressive and successful. This is the first place in which the bedrooms are unprovided with gas. A mutton dip almost made me regret the fact.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 80-6

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Shelling of Sewall’s Point

BALTIMORE, May 9.

The special correspondent of the American sends the following relative to affairs in Hampton Roads and the Peninsula:


FORT MONROE, May 8.

This has been a most stirring and exciting day at Old Point, and all are anticipating the early fall of Norfolk.  At 11 o’clock the steamer Naugatuck was observed raising steam, and about 12 o’clock she moved out by the side of the Monitor, which vessel also cleared her decks for action, taking down her awning, and stood forth in full fighting trim.

11:30. – The gunboat Dacotah has just moved up on line of battle, together with the sloops of war Seminole and San Jacinto.  The flag ship Minnesota was also under steam.

12 o’clock. – The Naugatuck has moved up towards Elizabeth river, followed by the Monitor and Dacotah in line of battle.  The San Jacinto follows slowly.

Heavy firing can still be heard in the direction of James river, where, you have already been informed by telegraph, the Galena and other boats of gone.  The Susquehanna has just gone up in the meantime, the Dacotah, Monitor and Naugatuck have reached the channel and taken a position near Sewall’s Point.  The Dacotah fired a shot towards Craney Island.  A second shot from the Dacotah struck the beach at Sewall’s Point.

12:30 – The Susquehanna moves up and takes the lead of the San Jacinto and Seminole – no answer from either.  The Dacotah and Seminole are steaming up Elizabeth river.  The Naugatuck is lying off towards the mouth of the James River.

Presently, the Dacotah and Monitor approached Craney Island and Sewall’s Point.  The Dacotah fires every few minutes alternately at Sewall’s Point and Craney Island, the enemy making no reply, although the balls reached their intended destination. – The Monitor is taking the lead.  Meantime the Seminole and Susquehanna open upon Sewall’s point, and two shots are fired from the Point, the latter falling short of the Monitor, which is now a mile above the other vessels.

12:40. – The rebels are firing rapidly from Sewall’s Point, principally on the Monitor, while a succession of shells are being poured on the enemy from the Susquehanna, Dacotah, Seminole and San Jacinto, broadside after broadside.  The Rip Raps also threw occasional shells at Sewall’s Point.

12:50. – The Susquehanna, Dacotah, San Jacinto and Seminole are pouring shells and the Monitor threw her first two shells full a mile and a half from the Point.


FORT MONROE, May 8.

Shortly before noon to-day the Monitor, Naugatuck, Seminole, Susquehanna, Dacotah and San Jacinto, in the order in which they are named, steamed up toward Sewall’s Point – Capt. Lardner, of the Susquehanna, in command of the expedition.

As soon as within range, fire was opened with a shot and shell against Sewall’s Point.  Most of the shots were good ones.  It was nearly half an hour before a reply was made from the Point.

The Rip Raps next opened fire, and then the Naugatuck for the first time.  Several shots were fired from the single gun on the extremity of the Point, when one from the Monitor struck in the vicinity, doubtless disabling the gun, as it has not been fired since.  The position of the Monitor was far in advance of the rest of the fleet, and she continued in motion until within a mile or two of the Point where considerable execution must have been done by here accurate firing.

The Naugatuck kept in the back ground, the range of her Parrot gun enabling her to do so.  Sewall Point battery replied briskly.  The Rip Raps fired occasionally.  A continual fire was kept up from the gunboats.  On account of the distance, no details can be given.  Nothing occurred till two o’clock, when the firing was very feeble from the Point.  The Monitor about this time returned from her advanced position and joined the fleet.

At 2:15 a very dense smoke arose rapidly from the Point, caused probably by the burning of the rebel barracks and other buildings.  At about half past two o’clock, the Merrimac made her appearance, when the fleet returned with the exception of the Monitor.  The Merrimac is still (5 o’clock) off the Point.  The Monitor is ready to attack her.

1 P. M. – The Monitor is now within a mile of Sewall’s Point, moving slowly forward and firing.  The enemy are also firing briskly from Sewall’s Point at the Monitor and shells are falling thickly around her.  Craney Island is also joining in the fight, and has thrown shells at the Monitor, one of which exploded directly over her.  The Monitor moved steadily forward, and occasionally firing, and receiving shells and shot from the rebel battery with perfect indifference.

2 P. M. – The monitor has fallen back, and lays alongside of the Susquehanna, probably for the purpose of communicating with her.  The Naugatuck in the meantime has been throwing shells into Pig’s Point, and the fleet has also thrown a number of shells in the same direction.

2:15 P. M. – The Monitor and Dacotah are moving along again slowly up the mouth of the Elizabeth river, and dense black smoke has commenced to arise from Sewall’s Point, indicating that our incendiary shells thrown there have fired the barracks.  The Dacotah continues to throw her shells directly into the point.  The vessels by constantly changing position destroy the range of the rebel gunners, but they are, however, making quite a determined fight, their works giving us almost shell for shell, shot for shot.  The Monitor has laid out of action for nearly an hour, and is probably cooling her guns.  The Rip Raps battery has the range of Sewall’s Point perfectly.

2:45 P. M. – The Merrimac now makes her appearance on the scene.  She has just passed from behind Sewall’s Point, and is slowly running down toward the Federal fleet.  Simultaneously with the appearance of the Merrimac the Monitor started from behind the wooden vessels and moved up to meet the enemy.  The larger vessels have drawn aside and left.  The Monitor and Naugatuck are now in the approaching path of the Merrimac.  The vessels of the fleet had been lying quietly at anchor for the last half hour, when the signal from the flag ship ordered them all to return.  The Susquehanna leads the way, followed by the San Jacinto, Seminole, Dacotah and Monitor, being all apparently using the greatest speed towards the fort.  To the spectator, this seemed rather mortifying, but as they moved down in line the Monitor was seen to halt, and the San Jacinto and Dacotah also followed her example, leaving the Susquehanna and Seminole moving ahead.  The four steamers and the Monitor having taken their position the Merrimac also halted, and the vessels stood there not more than a mile and a half apart – the Merrimac apparently unwilling to come further down and the Monitor unwilling to go further up.  The Minnesota also steamed up in front of the fortress wharf, followed slowly by the Vanderbilt, when both stopped.  After laying in this position the Minnesota turned round and steamed back, and the Vanderbilt turning slowly backed water down the river.  Whilst this maneuvering was going on firing had entirely ceased from all points.

3:30. – The Merrimac now turns round and steams back toward Norfolk with her rebel flag flying.  The Dacotah again proceeds up towards the Merrimac and the Monitor starts toward the mouth of the Elizabeth river.  The Dacotah is now within easy range of Sewall’s Point, but the batteries there do not open on the shore.  The Monitor has stopped and the Merrimac is lying stationary about a mile from the Craney Island Battery.  Here commenced an important movement, which cannot be made public just yet.  The Vanderbilt and Arago have now steamed in front of the wharf.  The Merrimac has run back under the guns of Craney Island, and the Monitor is steaming off towards here at full speed.  The Minnesota is also coming up again at full speed, the effort being to draw the rebels again.  For the past two hours the fleet has been moving back and forwards, but the Merrimac still lies under the guns of Craney Island.  The Minnesota, Arago and Vanderbilt have gone back to their anchorage, and there is no prospect of a fight to-night.  The troops are going on board the transports, and the war vessels, including the Monitor, have all returned to their anchorage.

The President viewed the action from a tug-boat lying about a mile in rear of the fleet.  He has just returned, and as he passed up the wharf was vociferously cheered by the troops.

Our fleet have retired.  The Merrimac is again steaming up.  An officer of the Seminole states that the rebel staff on the Point was twice shot away during the bombardment.  The first time it fell, it was picked up and a rebel in a red shirt jumped on the ramparts with a stump of the staff and flag, and waved it, when a shell struck him killing him and it is supposed others near him.

Of the many shots fired at the fleet by the rebels, not one struck our vessels. – Some went over their masts, but most fell short.  The rebels could be distinctly seen from the vessels carrying all of their wounded and dead.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Saturday Morning, May 10, 1862, p. 1

Sunday, September 2, 2012

The Scene Of The Late Naval Fight


There is talk about blocking up the entrance to Norfolk with a stone fleet, which can be easily done, as the channel is narrow, and so rendering the Virginia useless.  Since the fight the Monitor has been improved by making the fronts of the pilot house spherical, so that her balls may glance from it as from the deck.  Her crew oppose the stone blockade project, as they want another chance at the Virginia, and are confident that they can sink her.  Charles Ellet, Jr., civil engineer, republishes a paragraph from his pamphlet of February 5, on “Military Incapacity,” in which he pointed out the danger threatened by the naval batteries of the rebels as follows:

It is not generally known that the rebels now have five steam rams nearly ready for use.  Of these, five, two are on the lower Mississippi, two are at Mobile, and one is at Norfolk.  The last of the five, the one at Norfolk, is doubtless the most formidable, being the United States steam frigate Merrimac, which has been so strengthened, that in the opinion of the rebels it may be used as a ram.  But we have not as yet a single vessel at sea, nor, as far as I know, in course of construction, able to cope at all with a well built ram.  If the Merrimac is expected to escape from Elizabeth river, she will be almost certain to commit great depredations on our armed and unarmed vessels in Hampton Roads; and may even be expected to pass out under the guns of Fortress Monroe, and prey upon our commerce in Chesapeake bay.  Indeed, if the alterations have been skillfully made, and she succeeds in getting to sea, she will not only be a terrible scourge to our commerce, but may prove also to be a most dangerous visitor to our blockading squadrons off the harbors of the southern coasts.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 22, 1862, p. 3

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

The Fight in Hampton Roads


In giving place to all the details which have yet reached us of the Naval combat in Hampton Roads on Saturday and the following night, which (though the Rebel assailants were ultimately driven back to their hiding places – the Merrimac, their best ship, apparently in a sinking condition) will inevitably be regarded by the impartial as a National defeat and disgrace, it seems our duty to recall some antecedent and not very creditable facts.

The Rebels opened fire on Fort Sumter on the 12th of April last – and the fact was known throughout the country forthwith.  It was intended and understood to be a challenge of the Nation by the Slave Power to mortal combat.  Norfolk, as by far the greatest Naval arsenal in the Slave States – perhaps in the country – was of course in imminent danger.  It was within less than a day’s passage of Washington and Baltimore, not two days from Philadelphia and New York.  On the 17th (five days after fire was opened on Sumter) the Virginia Convention pretended to take their State out of the Union, and, though the act was passed subject to ratification by a popular vote, Gov. Letcher immediately issued a Proclamation of adherence to the Southern Confederacy.  On the 19th, the Virginia traitors obstructed Elizabeth River below Norfolk, so as to prevent the passage of the National vessels from the Navy Yard down into Hampton Roads, and so out to sea.  On the 20th (eight days after the opening of fire on Sumter) the Navy Yard was hastily dismantled by our officers in charge of it, the Cumberland sloop-of-war, (sunk by the Rebels last Saturday) towed out, while the Pennsylvania, Delaware, Columbus, Merrimac, Raritan, Columbia, Germantown, Plymouth, Dolphin, and the United States – all ships of war of various sizes, from a three-decker down – were (it was reported) scuttled and set on fire to keep them from falling into the hands of the Rebels.  We do not learn that any attack was made by the Rebels (who were certainly in very moderate force,) nor that any effort was made to arm the workmen in and about the Navy Yard – who were naturally, instinctively loyal – nor to appeal to the loyalty of the vicinage.  It is popularly understood that Taliaferro, the Rebel chief, was drunk, so that he failed to attack, and let our Navy officers have things very much their own way.  That, with more power on hand than they knew how even to destroy, they might have blown every vessel to atoms in three hours, is at least a very strong presumption.  The Merrimac – Which inflicted so stinging a blow on us last Saturday – was one of those vessels.

Of course, we do not know that those Navy officers who have not yet openly affiliated with the traitors, did not here do their best.  We only know that somebody ought to have been put on trial for their shameful, disastrous miscarriage – by which the Nation lost and the Rebellion gained twenty-five hundred cannon and more military and naval material than could be bought for Ten Millions of Dollars.  We do not know that any one yet  has been, though nearly eleven months have elapsed since the disaster, and the then commandant at the Yard, still wears the uniform and pockets the pay of a U. S. officer.  That this is as it should not be is our very decided opinion.

The Merrimac, it was soon announced, was raised by the Rebels, and was being iron plated and otherwise fitted for the destruction of some of our vessels in the Roads.  She has been so fitting ever since, almost within sight of our fleet.  Several times she has been announced on the eve of coming out.  Once or twice it was given out by the Rebels that she was a failure; and, as a Western man has said, they “would rather lie on a twelve months’ note than tell the truth for cash,” this should have incited to greater vigilance.  If we had not the proper vessels on hand to resist her, they should have been hurried up at least six months ago.  Yet when she does at last see fit to put in an appearance, lo! One of our principal war steamships have been lying in the Roads disabled for four months and cannot get near her, while the only other ship fit to engage her gets aground – in water that her officers should know as thoroughly as their own cabins – and cannot be brought into action while two of our noble frigates are torn to pieces, one of them sunk, the other captured and burned, and some two or three hundred of our brave tars killed, drowned, or captured.

We do not attempt to fix the blame of these disasters.  Possibly, there is no one to blame; but the people will not believe it in advance of thorough scrutiny.  We respectfully call upon the commander-in-chief of the army and Navy to have this whole business sifted to the bottom. – {N. Y. Tribune.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 15, 1862, p. 2

Friday, October 21, 2011

FORT MONROE, Feb. 5 [1862].

The Constitution which sailed yesterday, A. M., for Ship Island spoke the gun boat Maine about 40 miles north of Hatteras last night, in a sinking condition, and unable to make steam enough to carry her into port.  The Constitution arrived here this P. M., with her in tow.

The rebel fleet in Elizabeth river has been moving about considerable all day.

This A. M. heaving firing was going on at Sewall’s Point, and this P. M. a tug was seen steaming around, and at one time towing something supposed to be a floating battery.

– Published in The Dubuque Herald, Dubuque, Iowa, Friday Morning, February 7, 1862, p. 1

Thursday, January 20, 2011

What one of the Merrimac’s Crew says of her Fight with the Monitor

From the New York Herald, 19th.

James Thompson a sailor by vocation, a citizen of Massachusetts, and formerly a resident of this city, arrived here on Saturday night last from Norfolk, and furnishes us with a very interesting statement of affairs in rebeldom.  He was one of the crew of the Merrimac during the fight with the Monitor, having been impressed into the rebel navy, and had also been one of the crew of the rebel gunboat Lady Davis during the cruisings of that vessel off Charleston and the coast. * * * *

Having sunk the two vessels we steamed up James River, the rebel officers being in high glee, and came to an anchor about five miles from the scene of action.  Here we remained all night.  On the morning of the 9th we prepared to go down again, the rebel officers thinking to complete the work of destruction by sinking all the vessels in the Roads.  When daylight had revealed the situation of affairs, the officers of the Merrimac discovered what they at first thought was a small tug boat, steaming towards us.  We hailed her but receiving no reply, let fly at her from one of our bow guns; but she very imprudently took no notice of the messenger we had sent and kept steaming on.  Then our officers began to be fearful of the “little cheese box,” and were fairly “trembling in their shoes” for the result of a contest with her. – They soon found out what she was.  Soon the little Monitor sent us her compliments in the shape of a round shot, which struck a gun on our starboard side, broke it completely in two, killed two and wounded four of the crew.  The firing was then kept up for about three hours, the vessels being very often side by side.  After an hour’s firing the Merrimac thought to try the virtue of her plough on her antagonist, and struck her with it amidships.  The effect produced was very unsatisfactory to the rebel, however.  The Monitor then turned on her giant compeer and struck her rudder, producing great consternations on board, but not rendering the rudder unserviceable.  Every time the two guns from the Monitor were discharged, each of the two shots seemed to strike us in nearly the same spot, bursting in the timbers of the Merrimac, loosening the bolts of the iron plates, and timbers, and doing us very great damage generally.  It was noticeable also that her shots struck us near the water line, and caused our vessel to leak badly.

Mr. Thompson also corroborates what we published some time since from the Richmond Dispatch, that the iron plates on the Merrimac were welded together in many instances by the heat and force of the Monitor’s shot.  The Merrimac’s crew, during the engagement, were made to swear that if a large number of rebels on board were killed, they would not reveal the fact to any one on their arrival at Norfolk.  Seeing that the tide of battle was against us, we were ordered to “’bout ship” and put back to Norfolk.  We had not proceeded far when we grounded, and orders had been already given to scuttle the ship, when we made another effort to get off the shoal, and succeeded, and we made our way up to Norfolk slowly, arriving there at six P. M., with about six feet of water in the hold.  The rebel steamer Patrick Henry, which bore down to the Monitor during the fight, was driven back by a shot and having steam turned on her from the Monitor’s boiler.  She had six men scalded and two badly wounded.  After reaching Norfolk she was put upon the dry dock for repairs, and for five weeks men were working on her night and day, giving her a thorough overhauling.  When destroyed she was in excellent condition, and her loss, Mr. Thompson thinks, will prove incalculable to the rebels.  While these repairs were going on great fear was expressed that the Monitor might come up Elizabeth river and shell the city.  If she had done so no resistance could or would have been offered (as the authorities and people were frightened at the very name of her,) and the evacuation of the batteries and the city was already decided on in the event of her visit.  Commodore Buchanan was badly wounded in the thigh, and was taken, immediately on our arrival, to the hospital, where, at last accounts, he still remains.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, May 24, 1862, p. 2