LOSS OF THE NORFOLK NAVY YARD
EFFECTIVE WORK DONE BY SOUTHERN NAVAL OFFICERS WHO CONTINUED TO WEAR
THE NATIONAL UNIFORM THAT THEY MIGHT THE MORE READILY BETRAY THE
NATIONAL GOVERNMENT--THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY WAS DECEIVED AND THE
COMMANDANT AT NORFOLK DEMORALIZED--WILLIAM MAHONE’S TRICKS ADDED
TO THE DEMORALIZATION AT THE YARD, AND IT WAS ABANDONED AT LAST
IN A SHAMEFUL PANIC--PROPERTY THAT WAS WORTH MILLIONS OF DOLLARS,
AND GUNS THAT TOOK THOUSANDS OF LIVES, FELL INTO THE CONFEDERATES’
HANDS--THE FIRST NAVAL BATTLE OF THE WAR--THREE LITTLE WOODEN
VESSELS WITH SEVEN SMALL GUNS SENT AGAINST A WELL-BUILT FORT
MOUNTING THIRTEEN GUNS--THE HAZARDOUS WORK OF PATROLLING THE
POTOMAC.
The first actual battle of the war in which the navy took part occurred
on May 20 and 21, 1861, and resulted in the capture of the Confederate
forts that had been erected on the Potomac River at Acquia Creek to
shut off communication between Washington and the sea. As the reader
will remember, there was but one railroad running from the North to
Washington in those days. The authorities of Maryland had decided
that they would keep their State neutral during the impending
strife, acting, of course, on the theory of State sovereignty then
held in the South, and had prohibited the transportation of troops
across their State. The Confederates actually believed that this
prohibition would prevent the Northern troops coming to the defence
of the nation’s capital overland, and that resort to ships would be
had in strengthening the forces at Washington. To head off the ships,
the Confederates swarmed to the bank of the Potomac River, and there
were Confederate fortifications with colors flying, in plain view of
Washington itself. The Confederates, in the few weeks following the
secession of Virginia, were confident of capturing the national capital.
[Illustration: Washington, D. C., and Its Vicinity.
1. Matthias Point. 2. Acquia Creek. 3. Shipping Point. 4.
Fredericksburg. 5. Mt. Vernon. 6. Alexandria. 7. Orange &
Alexandria RR. 8. Loudon & Hampshire RR. 9. Manassas Junction. 10.
Bull Run. 11. Centreville. 12. Fairfax Court House. 13. Vienna. 14
Falls Church. 15. Arlington House. 16. Chain Bridge. 17. Aqueduct
Bridge. 18. Long Bridge. 19. Georgetown. 20. Washington. 21.
President’s House. 22. Smithsonian Institution. 23. Patent Office.
24. General Post Office. 25. Capitol. 26. Navy Yard. 27. Arsenal.
28. Maryland shore. 29. Fort Washington. 30. Indian Head. 31.
Maryland Point. 32. Port Tobacco. 33. Forts Scott, Albany, Runyon,
Richardson, etc.
]
It is easy to show there was really some basis for the Confederate
confidence. While the North groped and discussed, the Confederates
were at work collecting material for war. Officers who, like Semmes,
had left the service of the nation for that of the State, had gone
North--communications being still open--and had purchased arms
and ammunition in considerable quantities. They were very near to
getting good steamers, too; and a patriot now reads with pleasure
the keen words of scorn with which those officers spoke afterwards
of the Northern men who were so ready to sell these goods--of the
stay-at-home-and-make-money patriots. But the South had not stopped
at mere buying. Indeed, all the supplies purchased combined were as a
pistol-shot to a torpedo in comparison with what they obtained when the
Norfolk Navy Yard was abandoned to them.
It is certain that the whole story of this event will never be told;
for it was brought about by officers of the navy, who, after serving
honorably for many years under the flag, were not only willing to turn
on the flag, as many did with satisfied consciences, but were willing
to stoop to the shameful work of pretending to be loyal advisers of
the nation’s naval Secretary when they were secretly plotting the
destruction of the nation. While yet Virginia had not passed the
ordinance of secession these men “lost no opportunity to impress upon
the mind of the Secretary of the Navy the importance of doing nothing
to offend the State of Virginia.” These naval officers, who were
working day and night to overthrow the government, stopped at nothing.
The commandant of the navy yard at Washington was one of them. In the
midst of his plottings his daughter was married to one of the younger
plotters, and the others of the gang were, of course, present at the
wedding. “The house was everywhere festooned with the American flag,
even to the bridal bed.” And down at the Norfolk Navy Yard one of the
Southern officers went to Commodore McCauley, after the Pensacola Navy
Yard had been turned over to the Confederates, and said: “You have no
Pensacola officers here, Commodore; we will never desert you; we will
stand by you to the last, even to the death.” And this was said with
the deliberate intent of keeping the commodore from doing anything that
might save the nation’s property for the use of the government. One
need not search long for words to describe such actions.
[Illustration: Hiram Paulding.
_From an engraving by Hall._]
Secretary Welles called Capt. Hiram Paulding, an officer of known
loyalty, to advise him. Paulding broke up the nest of scoundrels who
wore the uniform that they might the more easily betray the flag, but
it was then too late to prevent the accomplishment of the object for
which they had chiefly labored--the betraying of the Norfolk Navy Yard
into the hands of the enemy. Large bodies of Confederate troops were
already gathering at Norfolk, although Virginia had not passed her
secession ordinances. Commodore McCauley was an old man and no match
for the young scoundrels who at Norfolk, as in Washington, held on to
their commissions and drew their pay up to the last day possible. They
were incessant in their labors to prevent anything being done that
would move a ship or a gun from the yard or add a loyal man to its
forces.
“Early in April”--note that it was not until April--“the Department
began to get very uneasy for the safety of the navy yard.” “The
Department was most anxious to get the _Merrimac_ away, but was
informed by Commodore McCauley that it would take a month to put her
machinery in working order.” No one seemed “to reflect that a few armed
towboats with marines on board” could have taken every ship from the
yard to an anchorage under Fortress Monroe.
However, on March 31st, 250 seamen were ordered from the New York Navy
Yard to Norfolk, and fifty seamen were transferred to the revenue
cutter _Harriet Lane_, which was sent to Norfolk. “On April 11th
Commander James Alden was ordered to take command of the _Merrimac_
and Chief Engineer Isherwood was sent to Norfolk to get the ship’s
engines in working order.” “On the 14th the work was commenced,
and on the 17th the engines were in working order--so much for the
commandant’s assertion that it would take a month to get the ship ready
to move.” These quotations are from Admiral Porter’s “Naval History of
the Civil War.” But he does not say McCauley was disloyal. McCauley had
merely believed the wilful lies of those under him.
[Illustration: A View of the Norfolk Navy Yard.
_From a photograph by Cook._]
It is cheering to read that “the disloyalty did not at that time extend
to the mechanics,” and that “they worked day and night” to get the
ship ready. “Then forty-four firemen and coal heavers volunteered for
the service of taking the _Merrimac_ out.” At this Commodore McCauley,
mindful of his orders to do nothing to excite the suspicions of hostile
intent, said “that next morning would be time enough.” Next morning,
there being a good head of steam on, word was again sent that she was
ready, but he replied that he had decided not to send her out. “He gave
as a reason the obstructions that had been placed in the channel, and
when the anxious Alden told him they could clear away the obstructions
he merely ordered the fires drawn. He had become utterly demoralized,
and his demoralization was infectious.”
At about this time came Captain Paulding in the _Pawnee_ from
Washington with a regiment of Massachusetts volunteers. His
instructions were to “save what he could and act as he thought proper.”
When he arrived the Southern officers had just resigned, and the
mechanics, being citizens of Virginia, had been induced to leave the
yard in a body. It was reported that thousands of Virginia militia
were coming to reinforce the Confederates gathering about the yard.
The report was due to a trick of William Mahone, afterwards a noted
practical politician of the State. He was president of the Norfolk &
Petersburg Railroad, and ran empty cars up the line, loaded on a mob
sent there for the purpose, and brought them back “with every man
yelling with all his might.” This was on April 19, 1861. The next day
Confederate troops did arrive, and the demoralization in the yard was
completed. It was the most disgraceful panic in the history of the
nation, for it was a panic that came on when not a gun had been fired,
and the only overt acts of war were the robbing of a government powder
magazine and the sinking of a few hulks (Mahone did this also), so that
the government officers would think the channel was being obstructed.
“The broadside of the _Germantown_, which was all ready for sea and
only waiting a crew, would have saved the navy yard against attack,
overawed Norfolk and Portsmouth, and prevented the channel from being
obstructed by the Confederates.” So says Porter. Elsewhere he adds,
that the “five heavy guns on a side on board the _Pennsylvania_”
with fifty good seamen on board, “could have bid defiance to 5,000
Confederates in arms and held Norfolk and Portsmouth.”
Nevertheless, “after the arrival of the _Pawnee_ had made the yard
doubly secure, the shells were drawn from the _Pennsylvania’s_
guns, and the guns spiked.” Every other gun in the yard, afloat and
ashore, except 200, was spiked. Men with sledge-hammers ran about the
yard, vainly trying to knock the trunnions from the guns in store.
Others soaked the decks of the ships and the buildings with tar and
turpentine. Others laid a mine in the dry dock--put twenty-six barrels
(2,600 pounds) of powder there. Only the _Pawnee_ and the _Cumberland_,
which were full-manned, escaped the work of the destroyers.
“It was a beautiful starlight night, April 20th, when all the
preparations were completed. The people of Norfolk and Portsmouth were
wrapped in slumber, little dreaming that in a few hours the ships
and public works which were so essential to the prosperity of the
community would be a mass of ruins, and hundreds of people would be
without employment and without food for their families. The _Pawnee_
had towed the _Cumberland_ out of the reach of the fire, and laid at
anchor to receive on board those who were to fire the public property.
Commodore McCauley had gone to bed that night, worn out with excitement
and anxiety, under the impression that the force that had arrived at
Norfolk was for the purpose of holding the yard and relieving him of
responsibility, and when he was called at midnight and informed that
the torch would be applied to everything, he could hardly realize the
situation, and was chagrined and mortified at the idea of abandoning
his post without any attempt to defend it.
“At 2.30 A.M., April 21st, a rocket from the _Pawnee_ gave the signal;
the work of destruction commenced with the _Merrimac_, and in ten
minutes she was one vast sheet of flame. In quick succession the trains
to the other ships and buildings were ignited and the surrounding
country brilliantly illuminated.”
[Illustration: The Old _New Hampshire_ at the Norfolk Navy Yard.
_From a photograph by Cook._]
At the beginning of April, 1861, there were stored at this yard 2,000
cannon, of which 300 were new Dahlgrens; 150 tons of powder, besides
vast quantities of loaded shells, machinery, castings, material
for ship-building, and ordnance and equipment stores--all in great
quantities. It contained a first-class stone dock. The steam frigate
_Merrimac_ was there undergoing repairs, the shops of the yard being
well fitted for such work. The sailing sloops-of-war _Germantown_
and _Plymouth_, of twenty-two guns each, and the brig _Dolphin_, of
four guns, were there, not manned, but fit for sea. Six other sailing
ships, including the famous _United States_, that were not of much
use, but worth something, were also there. On the whole, the material
of this yard was of more value, probably, than that in any two beside
it in the country. The Confederates estimated the value of the
property abandoned to them at $4,810,056.68 in gold. “But the greatest
misfortune to the Union caused by the destruction of the Navy Yard
was the loss of at least twelve hundred fine guns, most of which were
uninjured. A number of them were quickly mounted at Sewell’s Point to
keep our ships from approaching Norfolk; others were sent to Hatteras
Inlet, Ocracoke, Roanoke Island, and other points in the Sounds of
North Carolina. Fifty-three of them were mounted at Port Royal, others
at Fernandina and at the defences of New Orleans. They were met with
at Fort Henry, Fort Donelson, Island No. 10, Memphis, Vicksburg, Grand
Gulf, and Port Hudson. We found them up the Red River as far as the
gunboats penetrated, and took possession of some of them on the cars
at Duvall’s Bluff, on White River, bound for Little Rock. They gave us
a three hours’ hard fight at Arkansas Post, but in the end they all
returned to their rightful owners, many of them indented with Union
shot, and not a few permanently disabled.
“Had it not been for the guns captured at Norfolk and Pensacola,
the Confederates would have found it a difficult matter to arm
their fortifications for at least a year after the breaking out of
hostilities, at the expiration of which time they began to manufacture
their own ordnance and import it from abroad. Great as was, therefore,
the loss of our ships, it was much less than the loss of our guns.” So
says Porter.
[Illustration: Burning of the Vessels at the Norfolk Navy Yard.]
Rightly considered, the abandonment of the Norfolk Navy Yard was as
great a misfortune to the South as to the North, for it needlessly
prolonged and intensified a conflict that could have but one end.
No one can estimate the number of lives that these guns cost both
sides--the fortifications that were erected and the battles that were
fought in consequence of their falling into Confederate hands. But if
it took the Confederates a whole year to get at the work of casting
cannon, it is not unreasonable to suppose that one year of the war
would have been saved had the government held its own.
It was with guns that were needlessly abandoned at Norfolk that the
Confederates made their first fight against the Federal navy--the
battle at Acquia Creek. Something like thirty miles below Washington
the Potomac makes a wide sweep to the east. Two creeks enter it there
from the west--one, right on the point of the elbow, being known as
Potomac Creek, and the other, that enters a little way to the north of
the elbow, being called Acquia Creek. There is a considerable bluff on
the point between Acquia Creek and the river, known in those days as
Split Rock Bluff. Because this creek was the terminus of a railroad
leading to Fredericksburg, Virginia, and because it was believed by
the Confederates that the point commanded the Potomac River, three
batteries were erected. The Confederate accounts say that there were
thirteen guns here, of which two were eight-inch Dahlgrens, brought
from Norfolk. The Confederates completed this battery about May 14,
1861. They had decided to abandon Alexandria whenever the Federals
chose to take it, and make Acquia Creek their frontier post on the
river.
Accordingly, when the Federals, under cover of the _Pawnee_, Capt.
S. C. Rowan, crossed over on the 24th, the Confederates moved out, and
there was no bloodshed until the insane hotel-keeper, Jackson, shot
Colonel Ellsworth because the Confederate flag was taken down from
the Marshall House. Then the Potomac flotilla, which was under Fleet
Officer James H. Ward, was ordered to attack the Acquia Creek batteries.
In one respect that order was one of the most remarkable ever issued
in the navy, up to that date, for Ward had under him the _Freeborn_,
a wooden paddle-wheel steamer of 250 tons, carrying three guns, the
largest being a thirty-two-pounder smooth-bore; the _Anacostia_, a
screw steamer of 100 tons, carrying two little howitzers, and the
_Resolute_, a steamer of ninety tons, carrying two howitzers. In all,
three frail wooden vessels, carrying seven small guns, were sent to
attack a well-planned, well-manned fort with not less than thirteen
guns, of which the worst was better than the best afloat before it.
This matter is especially worth considering in connection with what a
Secretary of the Navy is likely to do in future if the nation is ever
again unexpectedly obliged to fight.
However, Ward was a great man. He had already distinguished himself as
a writer on gunnery and naval tactics and as an inventor. He now showed
his pluck by bravely attacking the forts.
It was on Friday, May 31, 1861, at 10.30 o’clock at night, that the
first shot of this war was fired from a naval ship at a fort. In all,
fourteen shots were fired, and the Confederates fired fifty-six at the
ships. The forts were not damaged, and one Confederate soldier lost
a finger. However, the Confederates abandoned the battery they had
erected at the water level and took the guns to the top of the bluff.
Next day, the _Pawnee_ having come to reinforce the fleet, the attack
was renewed, and for five hours the four little steamers hurled their
shot at the forts. The Confederates fired over 1,000 shot in return.
It is instructive to note that no one was hurt on either side by all
that firing. The ships were struck several times, but “there was no
irreparable damage done.” The attack failed absolutely.
Ward was afterwards killed in an attack on the Confederate forts
erected at Matthias Point, fifteen miles or so farther down the river.
This was on June 27, 1861. The Federal forces attempted to land there
and were driven off easily. But for the coolness of Lieut. J. C.
Chaplin, of the _Pawnee_, who rallied his force, in spite of a heavy
fire, the whole landing party would have been captured. Ward was the
only one killed, but four others were wounded.
On the whole, the work of the navy on the Potomac was confined to
patrolling the stream for the purpose of preventing the Confederates
of the two slave-holding States that bordered it from communicating
with each other. The men engaged in it have not received and never
can receive the credit they deserve for what they did, simply because
there was nothing striking about the work. More unfortunate still,
they had steamers that were wholly inadequate to the work, and the
fighting, when any was done, was like that at Acquia Creek--ineffective
necessarily. Instead of an opportunity to win fame, the men found
toil of the most wearisome kind, and as a reward for it they got the
reproaches of ignorant editors at the North and the jeers of exultant
editors at the South. Nevertheless, this much was done: The river was
kept open, so far as was needed, for the transportation of troops and
supplies, to and fro, and when, in 1862, the Confederates found that
their forts could not stop traffic, even though their guns had an
effective range greater than the width of the river, they retired from
the bank of the Potomac altogether.