THE FIRST IRONCLADS (1862)
Will they sink or swim?--Captain Ericsson, the Swede--The
_Merrimac_ raised and armoured--The _Monitor_ built by private
venture--_Merrimac_ surprises Fort Monroe--The _Cumberland_
attacked--The silent monster comes on--Her ram makes an
impression--Morris refuses to strike his flag--The _Cumberland_
goes down--The _Congress_ is next for attention--On fire and
forced to surrender--Blows up at midnight--The _Minnesota_ aground
shows she can bite--General panic--Was it Providence?--A light
at sea--Only a cheese-box on a raft--Sunday’s fight between two
monsters--The _Merrimac_ finds she is deeply hurt, wounded to
death--The four long hours--Worden and Buchanan both do their
best--Signals for help--The fiery end of the _Whitehall_ gunboat.
The War of Secession between the Federals and Confederate States
gave rise to a new kind of warship--the ironclad. The _Merrimac_ was
converted into such a vessel by the South, and the _Monitor_ was built
by the North, or Federals, in the space of 100 days.
Most people, experts and others, predicted a watery grave for a
ship cased in iron. Very few ventured on board at the launching of
the _Monitor_, and even the builders provided a steam-tug to save
the passengers in case she went to the bottom. But the _Monitor_,
after the first graceful dip, sat like a wild duck on a mere, being
flat-bottomed, having a turret 9 feet high, capable of revolving, with
two circular portholes to fire from. Captain Ericsson, a Swede, was her
architect.
The South had seized all the forts and dockyards below Chesapeake Bay,
and had struck great consternation into the Federal hearts. When the
Federals burnt and evacuated the Norfolk Navy Yard they scuttled the
steam frigate _Merrimac_; but the Confederates raised her, plated her
with railroad iron, and fitted her with a slanting roof to serve as
a shield. The _Merrimac_, when finished, did not take the water so
gracefully as the _Monitor_, for her weight was so enormous that she
nearly broke her back in launching. It was known that both sides were
at work upon some monster of the deep, but which would be ready first
no one could predict.
However, on the 8th of March the _Merrimac_ left Norfolk, accompanied
by two other war vessels--the _Jamestown_ and _Yorktown_--and followed
by a little fleet of armed tugs. She was heading for Newport News,
where there was a Federal garrison, guarded by the sailing frigates the
_Cumberland_ and the _Congress_, which rode at anchor within half a
mile of the shore battery. Their boats were hanging at the booms, and
the week’s washing fluttered in the rigging--as peaceful a scene as
could be imagined.
But the look-out on Fortress Monroe caught sight of a monster vessel
ploughing the waves, and signalled to the war-ships to get under way.
The _Minnesota_ had her steam up and soon went off towards Newport
News, where the _Cumberland_ and _Congress_ lay on blockading duty.
The crew of the _Cumberland_, seeing a strange ship come round Craney
Island, recognized her as the expected ironclad. All hands were beat
to quarters, and the _Cumberland_ swung across the channel in order
to bring her broadside to bear. The slanting roof of the _Merrimac_
puzzled them, and the long iron ram churned up the water as she
advanced relentlessly and in silence. At the distance of a mile
the _Cumberland_ began to use her pivot guns, but the _Merrimac_
made no reply, only steamed majestically on, though broadside after
broadside was poured upon her like hail; but the heavy shot glanced off
harmlessly, and ever the _Merrimac_ came closer and closer.
As she passed the _Congress_ the _Merrimac_ fired one broadside, and
then, leaving her to the tender mercies of the _Jamestown_ and the
_Yorktown_, made straight for the _Cumberland_. Both the Federal ships
discharged their broadsides against the armoured monster. She just
quivered under the blow and came on in silence. The National battery
at Newport News opened upon her at point-blank range, and every
man on board the _Cumberland_ drew a breath of relief. “Now,” they
thought, “our massive guns will teach her a lesson.” But it seemed as
if the _Merrimac_ had received no damage. Not a soul could be seen on
her decks, not a splinter on her sides; but she was coming towards
them--coming madly, as it seemed, to destruction.
What did the _Merrimac_ mean? Why did she not fire her guns? The crew
on the _Cumberland_ soon found out, when the great ram struck their
frigate amidships with a shock that threw every man down on the deck,
crushed in the ribs, and heeled the ship over till her topsail yards
almost splashed the water. The _Merrimac_ reversed her engines and
backed away under a murderous broadside, replying as she too turned
her broadside with a deadly volley of shot and shell, which swept her
enemy’s decks of guns and men. Meanwhile the water was pouring into the
terrible gaping wound in the side of the _Cumberland_; but Lieutenant
Morris, who was in command, fought her to the last with unflinching
courage. Yet once again the _Merrimac_ turned her prow and crushed in
close upon the old wound, and the great oak ribs snapped like twigs
under the weight of iron. The _Cumberland_ began to ride lower in the
water, but still aimed with calm accuracy at the _Merrimac_, riddling
her smoke-stack and bending her anchor. But the _Merrimac_ lay off a
little and poured a storm of shot into the sinking frigate, dealing
death and mutilation. Yet Morris refused to yield, and the whole crew
in their desperate plight thought of nothing but saving the honour of
the flag. One sailor, with both his legs shot off, hobbled up to his
gun on bleeding stumps and pulled the lanyard, then fell in a swoon by
the gun.
“She is sinking!” was the cry; but they still fought on, though the
frigate was settling deeper every minute. Then the water came gurgling
into the portholes, and choked the guns and drowned the gunners. The
last gunner was knee-deep in water when he fired the last shot, and
then the _Cumberland_ careened over on her side. Down she sank amid a
whirl of circling waters, a caldron of wave and air--caught in one, and
vomiting steam all around and over the dying vessel, and in a moment
400 men were on the verge of death, some being carried down into the
revolving vortex, some being cast up on the outside, some swimming
frantically towards the shore, or reaching desperately for fragments of
wreck. About 100 went down with the ship. The chaplain went down with
the wounded who were below deck.
It took forty-five minutes for the _Merrimac_ to finish off the
_Cumberland_, and she now turned her ram towards the _Congress_, which
spread all sail and endeavoured to get clear away.
But at this moment the _Congress_ grounded and became helpless. The
gunboats of the Confederates were still firing heavily at her from a
respectful distance, but as they saw the _Merrimac_ approaching they
too drew near under her protection.
The _Merrimac_ chose her position at about 100 yards’ range, despising
the guns of the _Congress_, and raked her fore and aft, dismounting
guns and covering her deck with mangled limbs. In three places the
_Congress_ burst into flames, and the dry timber crackled and blazed
and smoked like a volcano. The men could not stand by the guns for the
fervent heat. The wounded were slowly burned alive. The officers could
not bear this sight, and hauled down the flag.
A tug was sent by the Confederates to take off the prisoners from the
burning wreck, but, unfortunately, some sharpshooters from the shore
still kept up a hot fire upon the Southern vessels. In consequence
of this the _Merrimac_ fired another broadside into the sinking
_Congress_, and killed many more of her crew. The _Congress_, being
deserted, still burned on till darkness fell, and the ruddy glare lit
up the moving waters as if they had been a sea of blood. At midnight
the fire reached her magazine, and with a thunder of explosion the
_Congress_ blew up into a myriad fragments. The Northern warship
_Minnesota_ had also grounded, so had the frigate _St. Lawrence_, and
the _Merrimac_, while it was still light enough to aim a gun, steamed
towards them to see what little attention she could bestow upon them.
The _Merrimac_ was, perhaps, a little overconfident in her coat of
mail. Anyhow, she risked receiving a broadside at very short range from
the heavy guns of the _Minnesota_.
A shot seems to have entered her porthole and damaged her machinery,
for she hesitated, put about, and returned to safe anchorage behind
Craney Island.
Meanwhile, a very natural terror was gnawing at the hearts of the
Federal crews and garrison in Hampton Roads.
They had listened to the sounds of the conflict and seen the dire
results in wonder, almost in despair. The _Merrimac_, they said, was
invulnerable. Not a shot could pierce her. On Sunday morning she
would return and destroy the whole Federal fleet at her leisure. She
would shell Newport News Point and Fortress Monroe, at the entrance
of Hampton Roads, set everything on fire, and drive the garrisons
from their guns. Nay, as the telegraph wires flashed the news to
Washington, it was foreseen with an agony of horror that the _Merrimac_
might ascend the Potomac and lay the capital in ashes. Baltimore,
Philadelphia, New York, Boston, were in a state of panic. No one knew
what might not follow. It was a blind horror of a new and unknown
danger. For the experience of one hour had rendered the shipbuilding
of the past a scorn and a laughing-stock. Wooden frigates might go to
the scrap-heap now. With the _Cumberland_ had gone down morally all
the great navies of Europe. A new order had to be found for ship and
battery, and steel must take the place of planks of oak.
Such a night of anxiety and alarm the Northern States had never
experienced. It was ten o’clock at night when the look-out in the
garrison thought he saw lights out at sea in Chesapeake Bay. He called
his mate. By-and-by they made them out to be two small steamers heading
for Old Point Comfort. An eye-witness from Fort Monroe thus describes
what happened:
“Oh, what a night that was! I can never forget it. There was no fear
during the long hours--danger, I find, does not bring that--but there
was a longing for some interposition of God and waiting upon Him, from
whom we felt our help must come, in earnest, fervent prayer, while not
neglecting all the means of martial defence. Fugitives from Newport
News kept arriving. Ladies and children had walked the long ten miles
from Newport News, feeling that their presence only embarrassed their
brave husbands. Sailors from the _Congress_ and _Cumberland_ came, one
of them with his ship’s flag bound about his waist, as he had swum
with it ashore. Dusky fugitives came mournfully fleeing from a fate
worse than death--slavery. These entered my cabin hungry and weary.
The heavens were aflame with the burning _Congress_. But there were no
soldiers among the flying host. The sailors came only to seek another
chance at the enemy, since the _Cumberland_ had gone down in deep
waters, and the _Congress_ had gone upward, as if a chariot of fire,
to convey the manly souls whose bodies had perished in that conflict
upward to heaven.
“The heavy night hung dark the hills and waters o’er,”
but the night was not half so heavy as our hearts, nor so dark as our
prospects. All at once a speck of light gleamed on the distant wave.
It moved; it came nearer and nearer, and at ten o’clock at night the
_Monitor_ appeared.
“‘When the tale of bricks is doubled, Moses comes!’
“I never more firmly believed in special Providence than at that hour.
Even sceptics for the moment were converted, and said: ‘God has sent
her!’ But how insignificant she looked! She was but a speck on the dark
blue sea at night, almost a laughable object by day. The enemy call her
‘a cheese-box on a raft,’ and the comparison is a good one. Could she
meet the _Merrimac_? The morrow must determine, for, under God, the
_Monitor_ is our only hope now.”
Lieutenant Worden, the Commander of the _Monitor_, on arriving at
Fort Monroe was instructed to lie alongside the _Minnesota_, to guard
her in case of a night attack. At eleven o’clock she set out, and
her arrival was hailed with delight by the men on board the frigate,
though some shook their heads at the strange unshapely toy which a
private individual had constructed to save the Federal fleet. But few
slept that night. The odds against the _Monitor_ seemed too great. She
mounted but two guns, while the _Merrimac_ carried ten. Sunday morning
broke sunny and beautiful, and the sea was peaceful and calm. Near
Sewell’s Point, opposite Hampton Roads, three vessels were at anchor,
one of them the _Merrimac_.
About nine o’clock glasses showed a stir amongst them, and instantly
the _Monitor_ awoke to life and action, closing her iron hatches
and putting on the dead-light covers. The _Monitor_, like a great
girdle-cake, only stood 2 feet out of the water; her smooth surface was
broken only by the turret and pilot-house.
Then they saw the _Merrimac_ coming, looking like a submerged house,
with roof only out of the water. After her came the _Jamestown_ and
_Yorktown_, and a fleet of tug-boats crowded with ladies and gentlemen
from Norfolk eager to see the fun.
The _Merrimac_, entirely unconscious of the new enemy she had to
encounter, steamed slowly along and fired upon the _Minnesota_, which
was still aground. The _Minnesota_ replied with a broadside and the
usual result; but the _Monitor_ steamed out from behind and boldly
advanced to meet her antagonist, and when at a distance of half a
mile Lieutenant Worden from the pilot-house gave the order to fire.
The ball, weighing 170 pounds, rattled against the mailed side of the
_Merrimac_. She staggered under the force of the concussion, and at
once seemed to realize that in this floating turret she had no mean
antagonist. At the range of only a few yards she poured in a terrible
broadside. To her disgust, the shots seemed to have glided off and done
no harm. Then the two vessels closed and poured a hail of heavy metal
upon each other. The _Monitor_ being the quicker, would circle round
the _Merrimac_, while the turret, turning with ease, always presented
the guns to the foe.
Worden in his pilot-house could speak through tubes to Lieutenant
Green, who commanded the gunners in the tower. Once Green trained his
guns on the _Merrimac’s_ water-line, and the shot penetrated.
“Splendid, sir! splendid!” roared Worden. “You have made the iron fly.”
But the spectators who lined the ramparts of Fort Monroe could not see
what was happening for the clouds of smoke, and they stood, silent and
wretched, almost afraid to look.
But at last the veil parted, and they saw the little _Monitor_ lying
alongside the _Merrimac_, trim and spiteful, with the Stars and Stripes
flying proudly from her stern, and a great cheer arose from every
throat. Then they saw the _Merrimac_ bear down upon the little flat
cheese, as if to sink her. She struck fair and square, but the iron ram
glided up on her low-sheathed deck and simply careened her over; but in
so doing the _Merrimac_ showed her unarmed hull below the iron coat of
mail, and the _Monitor_ planted one of her shots in a vital place.
For four long hours had this strange duel lasted, the _Merrimac_
firing heavily, the _Monitor_ steaming round and choosing her place
and time, with careful aim at rudder, screw, and water-line. At last
Buchanan, the Commander of the _Merrimac_, was severely wounded, and
as his ship began to take in water through three gaping wounds, the
helm was put over and the conqueror of yesterday limped away. But her
last shot struck point-blank upon the iron grating of the pilot-house
just where Lieutenant Worden was looking out. The concussion threw him
down senseless, and minute pieces of iron and powder were driven into
his eyes, so that he was blinded. When after a time he recovered his
consciousness he asked:
“Have I saved the _Minnesota_?”
“Yes, sir, and whipped the _Merrimac_,” was the reply.
“Then I care not what becomes of me,” murmured the Lieutenant.
The _Merrimac_ slowly made her way to a safe anchorage under the
batteries at Sewell’s Point. Here she signalled for help, and tugs came
up, took her in tow, and escorted her to Norfolk. Her injuries were so
severe that after months of work upon her she never ventured to quit
her retreat, whereas the _Monitor_ seemed but slightly damaged. She had
been hit twenty-two times, and only showed slight indentations, but a
ball striking full on the pilot-house had bent a huge iron beam. The
ram of the _Merrimac_ had torn off some of the plating from the side
of the _Monitor_. The latter drew only 10 feet of water, and could go
where the _Merrimac_ could not venture.
But though the _Merrimac_ had fired her last shot, she gave the North
a great fright in the night which followed the battle. At midnight
thousands of people along the coast were roused from their sleep by
cries that came over the water: “Fire! fire! For God’s sake, save us!”
The shore was soon lined by spectators, who stood unable to get a
boat to put out or help in any way. There was the gunboat _Whitehall_
roaring with flames, and the dark figures of the crew were plainly
visible on her deck, either wrapped in red fire or jumping into the
deep water beneath.
The _Whitehall’s_ shotted guns were going off here and there through
the thick crowds or clustering houses, and one shell struck the
hospital, making the inmates believe that the _Merrimac_ had returned.
It transpired that a red-hot shot had been thrown from the _Merrimac_
during the day and had lodged between the _Whitehall’s_ timbers, where
the fire smouldered until late at night.
The general conclusion from this momentous fight between the first
ironclads was that “England’s naval supremacy is gone for ever.” But
men are more potent than masses of metal. America and England have
navies now in comparison with which the _Merrimac_ and _Monitor_ are
but tin kettles. Yet we must remember that Russia, too, a few months
ago possessed a strong navy as far as metal goes. But once again the
Japanese proved to the world that it is in the hearts of brave men, the
science of clever men, and the enduring patience of patriotic men, that
the issues of victory or defeat are mainly determined.