THE SINKING OF THE “CUMBERLAND” AND DESTRUCTION OF THE
“CONGRESS”--FIGHT BETWEEN THE “MERRIMACK” AND “MONITOR”--THE
“MERRIMACK” AND OTHER CONFEDERATE VESSELS ENTER HAMPTON ROADS
AND CAPTURE THREE OF OUR VESSELS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--OUR
FLEET SHELL THE CONFEDERATE BATTERIES--BOMBARDMENT OF THE
RIP-RAPS--ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN DRAKE DEKAY--THE ARMY
OF THE POTOMAC LANDS AT HAMPTON--EXCITING SCENES IN THE
DEPARTMENT.
The Federal naval force present in Hampton Roads and James River, on
the 8th of March, 1862, consisted of the “Minnesota,” a steam-frigate,
commanded by Captain Van Brunt, carrying fifty guns; the frigate
“Congress,” a sailing-vessel of fifty guns, commanded by Captain Smith;
the “Roanoke,” a steam-frigate of the same class of the “Minnesota,”
carrying fifty guns, commanded by Captain Marston; the “St. Lawrence,”
a sailing-frigate, twelve guns; the sloop-of-war “Cumberland,”
twenty-four guns. Beside these were two armed tugs, the “Whilden” and
“Zouave,” and a small gunboat called the “Dragon.”
The “Minnesota,” “St. Lawrence,” “Roanoke,” and the tugs and gunboat
lay off Fortress Monroe, while the “Congress” and the “Cumberland” were
anchored in the James; the former nearest the mouth of the river, and
the latter about three-fourths of a mile from the shore, and directly
opposite the camp at Newport News. Sometime in November, 1861, the
“Roanoke” broke her shaft, and was in this disabled condition at this
time. The crew of the “Congress” had, early in March, 1862, been
discharged, and the vessel manned by three companies of the Naval
Brigade.
The war-vessels of the Confederates in these waters were the
“Merrimack,” also known in history as the “Virginia,” carrying ten
guns, eight broadside and one at each end; the “Patrick Henry,” six
guns; the “Jamestown,” two guns; the “Raleigh,” “Beaufort,” and
“Teaser,” each one gun.
The “Merrimack” had been raised by the enemy during the summer of
1861, and constructed into a shot-proof steam-battery, with inclined
iron-plated sides and submerged ends. “The eaves of the casemates, as
well as the ends of the vessel, were submerged, and a ram was added as
a weapon of offence.” This novel vessel of war was commanded by Captain
Franklin Buchanan, formerly of the United States Navy.
At about two o’clock in the afternoon of the 8th of March, the long
roll startled the garrison at Newport News. The men were quickly
in line, and in a few minutes the cry of, “The ‘Merrimack’! The
‘Merrimack’!” resounded throughout the camp. A dense volume of black
smoke was now seen at the mouth of the Elizabeth River, and in the
course of fifteen minutes the dark form of the foe was distinctly
seen. The day was bright and warm; not a breeze rippled the surface
of the river. The “Congress” being nearest the enemy, began making
preparations for the battle. Her masts and spars soon whitened with her
sails, and the four thousand soldiers in Camp Butler stood mute, but
with intense anxiety, waiting the opening of the contest. The painful
silence that brooded over that strange scene was at last suddenly
broken by a sharp, angry “bang!” from one of the larboard ports of the
“Cumberland.” The shot struck within a few yards of the “Merrimack,”
sending the water in silvery spray high into the air. The signal for
the assault thus given was quickly followed by a whole broadside from
the “Congress.” For a short time both “Congress” and “Merrimack” were
veiled from sight by the clouds of curling smoke. To the surprise and
alarm of the garrison, the cloud rose, revealing the “Merrimack” still
afloat and apparently unharmed, still approaching. The “Congress” now
began a rapid and continuous fire upon the enemy. The “Merrimack,”
without replying to this fire, passed close alongside the frigate, and
when within a few hundred yards of her, across her bows, opened on her
with a rifled gun. The shot entered the frigate, raking her from stem
to stern, dismounting several of her guns, and killing and wounding
many of her crew, among them her brave commander.
The “Congress” was fairly disabled by this shot; her commander was
killed, confusion reigned supreme, and now the Stars and Stripes were
hauled down, and the white flag of truce run up to masthead. The
frigate slipped her cables and floated helplessly away, the “Merrimack”
continuing on her course toward the “Cumberland.”
It was reserved for the latter vessel to make the bravest fight of that
terrible and eventful day. As soon as the “Merrimack” was within easy
range, the sloop-of-war opened with a whole broadside; but the shot
glanced harmlessly from the mailed sides of the foe; and now, with full
head of steam, the enemy made a desperate and angry plunge toward his
plucky antagonist, sending his ugly prow crashing through her timbers.
The prow struck the “Cumberland” under her starboard fore-channels,
making an enormous hole. For a few minutes, both vessels seemed to
be sinking. The prow had wedged itself so firmly in the timbers as
to render it difficult for the enemy to withdraw and save himself
from the same fate he had designed for the ship. After a few trials,
he succeeded, however, and backing off, took up a position directly
across the bows of the “Cumberland,” and opened on her at very close
range, the two vessels almost touching each other. In this position
the “Cumberland” could only use her bow guns (some three or four); but
these were worked with great energy, sending their heavy shot directly
at the enemy’s ports.
The shell and canister of the “Merrimack” were sweeping the gun-decks
of the “Cumberland” with fearful slaughter. At times, nearly every gun
was unmanned, but other brave sailors came upon the bloody deck and
renewed the unequal contest. The flag of the “Cumberland” was still
flying defiantly from her mizzen-mast; the shouts and cries of friend
and foe, the angry and excited commands of the officers, could be
distinctly heard on shore.
The sick-bay of the “Cumberland” was filled to suffocation with
blackened and bleeding victims, and, what added greater terror to
the scene, she was now rapidly sinking. Despite the vigorous plying
of the pumps, the water rose to the main hatchway in less than ten
minutes after she was struck, flooding her forward powder-magazines,
and rendering them useless. The noble ship now canted to port. Many
sprang to save the wounded, while other brave tars still stood at
their guns, delivering their last fire as the inrushing waters closed
over them. Like a creature of flesh and blood in the agonies of death,
the sloop-of-war trembled and creaked, her bows plunged into the dark
water, her stern mounted high into the air, and down she went, with a
roaring, rushing sound of the waves.
The water was now filled with struggling men striking for the shore.
The beach was lined with enraged and pitying soldiers. Logs and
planks were seized by them and thrown into the water, to aid the
swimmers, and others rushing into the water to their arm-pits, seized
the half-drowned sailors and brought them to the land. Others of the
sailors were rescued by the steam-propeller “Whilden,” Capt. William
Riggins, which put off to the scene of the disaster in the midst of the
fire of the “Merrimack,” and thus saved the lives of many who would
otherwise have found a watery grave. About one hundred of the dead and
wounded of the “Cumberland” went down with the ship, and among them the
Chaplain, the Rev. J. Lenhart.
The land-battery in Camp Butler, which was chiefly manned by members
of the Twenty-ninth, and which mounted some five guns,--among them two
42-pounder James rifles,--was very active during the entire contest
between the “Merrimack” and “Cumberland.” When the “Cumberland” sunk,
the Confederate ram was a fair target for our men, but their shots were
wholly powerless to do her harm. The “Merrimack” replied to several of
our shots, one of her shells striking the parapet, and throwing the
earth in clouds of dust over the gunners.
The river now presented a scene of great interest. The “Jamestown” and
“Patrick Henry,” two Confederate steamers, had arrived, and taking up
a position about two miles from our camp, began shelling it with great
vigor. One of these missiles passed through a barrack of the First
New York, while others cut off the tops of the pines about the camp.
These two steamers divided their attentions about equally between the
camp and the floating “Congress,” firing at the latter with murderous
effect, and in shameful and savage violation of the rules of civilized
warfare, the “Congress” displaying all the while her flag of truce.
An attempt was now made to capture our frigate, and tow her off, a
prize of war. The steam-tug “Zouave” (Union) immediately ran down
to her and towed her to our shore, fairly beaching her, before the
Confederate steamers “Beaufort” and “Raleigh” arrived. Upon reaching
the “Congress,” these steamers immediately hauled alongside. General
Mansfield, observing this movement, ordered Captain Howard, with a
section of his light battery, and Colonel Brown, with two companies of
the Twentieth Indiana Regiment, to open fire upon these steamers. The
order was promptly obeyed, and in a few moments our shots were striking
the Confederate steamers, and whistling about the ears of their men,
as they were attempting to clamber up the sides and into the ports of
our ship, causing them to withdraw, and killing and wounding several
of their number. Among the wounded were Buchanan, the commander of
the “Merrimack,” who received a severe gunshot wound in the thigh,
and Lieutenant Minot of the “Beaufort.” The crew of the “Congress,”
her dead and wounded, and some of the valuable movable articles on
her, were landed under a fire from the Confederate fleet. Early in
the afternoon, the steam-frigate “Minnesota,” the “Roanoke,” and “St.
Lawrence” (anchored near Fortress Monroe) attempted to come to the
relief of our fleet in the James. The machinery of the “Roanoke” was
out of order, and she was towed by two tugs; the “St. Lawrence,” not
being a steam-vessel, was also towed. In order to enter the James,
these vessels were obliged to pass within easy range of a battery on
Sewall’s Point, which did them considerable damage. After passing
into the mouth of the James, the “Minnesota” and “St. Lawrence” both
grounded. The entire fleet of the enemy, headed by the “Merrimack,”
now quitted the disabled “Congress” and steamed down to attack the
“Minnesota” and “St. Lawrence.” The “Merrimack,” being of deep draught,
could not approach nearer than a mile to either of these ships; and
her firing being very inaccurate, she only succeeded in striking the
“Minnesota” once. For awhile, the small Confederate steamers, armed
with rifled cannon, and having the choice of both distance and
position, did considerable damage to the “Minnesota,” but eventually
the frigate drove them away.
By this time the day was far spent, the sun having already set; and
when everybody on shore had begun to consider the sad day’s work ended,
the huge monster, the “Merrimack,” was again observed approaching Camp
Butler. This time she took the inner channel, and as she came along,
her immense chimney towering up among the branches of the trees that
overhung the river bank, belching forth volumes of smoke and sparks,
her appearance was simply appalling. Arriving at a point where the
channel winds in nearest to the shore, the camp was fairly within range
of her bow gun. A sudden burst of light, a dismal, deafening roar, and
the crashing of boards and timbers were heard almost simultaneously.
The large shot passed entirely through the post hospital and the
headquarters’ building of General Mansfield, tearing down the chimney
of the latter, and nearly burying that venerable officer in the ruins.
He was, fortunately, but little hurt, and soon emerged from the house
white with plaster. This ended the hostilities of the 8th of March. The
“Merrimack” now withdrew, and darkness soon settled down upon both land
and water.
The night was one of great gloom and excitement in Camp Butler, as well
as in all the Federal camps in the department. Mounted orderlies were
riding in every direction, and rumors were rife of a land attack by the
enemy’s troops under Magruder. In anticipation of such a movement, the
garrison was re-enforced early in the evening by a body of infantry
from Camp Hamilton, and every preparation was made to repel the assault.
While the day, which had just closed, had been rendered famous in
history by its unexampled occurrences, the night which followed was
destined to usher in scenes that will never fade from the memory of
those who witnessed them. The frigate “Congress,” which lay hard
aground on the sand-beach near the camp of the Twentieth Indiana
Regiment, had been set on fire late in the afternoon, and the lurid
flames now lit up the bay and strand with a brightness rivaling that
of the day itself. Many of her guns were still shotted, and as the fire
coiled about them, they began to discharge; a shot from one of them,
skimming the surface of the water, entered and sank a schooner lying at
our wharf. The flames had mounted each mast and spar, and were leaping
out at every port with angry tongues. Heaps of shells, which had been
brought from the magazines for the afternoon’s encounter, lay on the
gun-decks; these now began to explode, and ever and anon they would
dart up out of the roaring, crackling mass, high into the air, and
course in every direction through the heavens.
At twelve o’clock, the magazines blew up with a terrific noise. This
event had been anticipated by the garrison, and the shores and adjacent
camps were crowded with awe-struck gazers. The whole upper works of
the frigate had, hours before, been reduced to ashes by the devouring
flames; the masts and spars, blackened and charred, had fallen into and
across the burning hull; these were sent high into the air with other
_debris_, and as blast succeeded blast, were suddenly arrested in their
descent and again sent heavenward. The spectacle thus presented was
awfully grand; a column of fire and sulphurous smoke, fifty feet in
diameter at its base and not less than two hundred feet high, dividing
in its centre into thousands of smaller jets, and falling in myriads
of bunches and grains of fire, like the sprays of a gigantic fountain,
lighted up the camp and bay for miles.
The yards and rigging of the “Minnesota” and “St. Lawrence” were filled
with men armed with fire-buckets, lest the falling sparks should ignite
the tarred ropes of these vessels, and unite them in one general
conflagration. The sides of the hapless “Congress” were thrown open by
the last explosion, and the next morning, all that could be seen of the
once proud ship were a few blackened ribs, a short distance above the
surface of the water.
When the soldiers of Camp Butler turned away from that scene to retire
to their quarters, it was with heavy hearts. The recollection of the
harrowing events of the afternoon was still fresh in their minds;
they had now witnessed the total destruction of another vessel of our
navy, the loss of which gave joy to the South, a new lease of life
to the Rebellion, and operated to postpone the day when they would be
permitted to doff the blue and return to their homes.
Sunday the 9th of March dawned, finding the frigate “Minnesota” still
aground, her consort, the “St. Lawrence,” having more fortunately
drifted into deep water. The day broke fair, and so calm was everything
upon both water and land, that it seemed very like a preparation for
the funeral of the two hundred brave men who had tasted death on the
preceding day. The Confederate fleet could be distinctly seen lying at
anchor under their batteries at Sewall’s Point. A column of white steam
was issuing from the pipes of the “Merrimack”; it was evident that she
was preparing to set out on her second day’s exploits, and attempt
to deal the final blow to our navy in Hampton Roads. At about seven
o’clock, the “Merrimack” was discovered to be moving, and following
her were the other vessels of the Confederate fleet. Upon rounding
the Point, the iron-clad shaped her course directly towards Fortress
Monroe, but she had not proceeded far before she suddenly turned and
steered toward the mouth of the James. The drums of the “Minnesota”
were heard beating her anxious crew to quarters. When the “Merrimack”
had arrived within fair range, she fired a shot from her bow gun. The
shot struck the frigate under her counter, doing her not a little
damage. The fire was quickly replied to by the frigate, and now Captain
Van Brunt, her commander, signalled the “Monitor,” which up to that
moment had lain close alongside of the ship, and which had arrived from
New York the night before, to attack the enemy.
This diminutive craft had not until this time been seen by our men on
shore, although rumors of its arrival had spread through camp; and as
it steamed out upon the bay, wonder as to what it was, and what it
would be likely to accomplish, seized fast hold upon all. With apparent
confidence in its ability to contend with the monster iron-clad of
the enemy, the “Monitor” steamed directly toward it, and when within
one hundred yards, opened fire. The report of that gun rang out so
loud upon the still air of the morning, as to immediately create a
feeling of confidence in the ability of the little boat to contend
successfully with the enemy. In less than five minutes from that time,
the two vessels were hotly engaged with each other, belching out fire
and iron in each others’ faces.
The other vessels of the enemy were by this time fairly engaged with
the “St. Lawrence,” “Minnesota,” and the Federal gunboats, and were
soon put to flight, keeping well off toward the opposite shore. Shortly
after the “Merrimack” had fired her first broadside at the “Monitor,”
and had seen her shots glance harmlessly from the revolving turret,
she tried the experiment of sinking her, and after backing off slowly,
ran at her, head on. The prow of the “Merrimack” struck the “Monitor,”
but glanced, and the little vessel swung around, delivering in this
position several of her most effective shots in rapid succession. After
this the combatants parted, and a brief truce followed, at the close
of which the two vessels again neared each other, and a second duel,
fiercer and more desperate if possible than the first, ensued.
At one time during the battle, the Confederate steamer “Jamestown”
ventured to interfere on the side of the “Merrimack,” but received from
the “Monitor” a shot that pierced her sides, and disabled her to such
a degree as to cause her to haul off. During much of the time that the
two iron-clads were actively engaged, they were scarcely visible from
the shore, being enveloped in clouds of smoke; but occasionally the
garrison were disagreeably reminded of what was going on by a huge shot
from one or the other of the vessels missing its mark and reaching the
land. Several of these huge missiles went bounding over the long plain,
casting the dust high into the air, and plowing up the earth in deep,
irregular furrows.
At about twelve o’clock, while the “Monitor” was apparently resting,
being separated by the distance of a mile from her antagonist, the
“Merrimack” made a sudden movement towards the “Minnesota.” The tide
being at its height, it was doubtless supposed by the enemy that he
could reach the frigate, and give her a death-blow with his prow.
The “Minnesota” opened upon the enemy with all her broadside guns
and ten-inch pivot; “a broadside,” says Captain Van Brunt in his
report, “that would have blown out of the water any timber-built ship
in the world.” The “Merrimack” replied with her rifled bow gun “with
a shell which passed through the chief engineer’s stateroom, through
the engineer’s messroom amidships, and burst in the boatswain’s room,
tearing four rooms all into one; in its passage, exploding two charges
of powder, which set the ship on fire.”[26]... The fire was quickly
extinguished; but the alarm of fire having reached the ears of the men,
great consternation prevailed for several minutes. A second shot from
the ram went through the boiler of the gunboat “Dragon,” which lay near
the “Minnesota,” exploding it, and badly scalding and wounding a number
of our sailors. The position of the enemy was now such as to enable the
“Minnesota” to concentrate upon him a heavy fire from her gun-deck,
spar-deck, and forecastle pivot-guns; and it was stated by the marine
officer of the frigate, who was stationed on the poop, that at least
fifty solid shot struck the slanting side of the “Merrimack” during
this fire, but without producing any apparent effect.
By the time the “Merrimack” had fired her third shot at the
“Minnesota,” the “Monitor” had reached the scene of action, and
immediately ran in between the two vessels, covering by her turret,
as far as possible, the already badly-injured frigate. This movement
of the “Monitor” caused the “Merrimack” to change her position, in
doing which she grounded. Again the frigate, aided by the “Monitor,”
poured into the ram every available gun; but the stanch iron-clad
withstood the combined fire of both our vessels, and in the course
of a few minutes floated, shaping her course down the bay, being
closely followed by the “Monitor.” In the course of this pursuit, the
“Merrimack” suddenly turned, and with full head of steam, struck the
“Monitor” for the second time with her prow; but the blow produced no
effect, while the “Monitor” fired a solid shot that plunged into the
enemy’s roof. Then followed a cannonade more desperate, if possible,
than any which had preceded it. The “Merrimack” brought four of her
guns to bear upon the “Monitor’s” turret and pilot-house. In the
latter was Lieutenant Worden, watching the progress of the battle. An
immense solid shot struck the house with such force as to loosen the
cement about the inside of the structure, and set in motion a fragment
of it, which struck the gallant lieutenant in one of his eyes. The
concussion and the blow completely stunned him, rendered him senseless,
and disabled him for further duty during the battle. Soon after this
accident, the “Monitor” stood down for Fortress Monroe, when the
“Merrimack” and two of her consorts again turned toward the stranded
frigate. Captain Van Brunt had nearly expended all his solid shot, his
ship was already badly crippled, and his officers and men worn out by
their excessive labor. It is no wonder, therefore, that when he saw the
near prospect of another terrible struggle with the invulnerable enemy,
that the thought of burning his vessel came into his mind, for, to use
his language, “I determined never to give up the ship to the rebels.”
Fortunately the “Merrimack” was satisfied that her efforts to further
cripple our fleet could not succeed, and being herself more or less
disabled, headed toward Norfolk, the “Monitor,” to the unspeakable joy
of the spectators, starting in pursuit. The chase, which was continued
for several miles, and then abandoned, was not attended with any tiring
on the part of either vessel. This was the closing scene of this
remarkable battle.
The excitement in Camp Butler was not to end just here. The men had
hardly swallowed their dinner, before a number of horsemen came riding
into camp, their horses flecked with foam and themselves covered with
dust. They had come from the outposts to inform General Mansfield that
the enemy in large numbers were advancing, and that an attack was
imminent. The long roll was again beaten, and the excited men mustered
with no less alacrity than on the previous day. The Twenty-ninth
Regiment formed in line of battle just inside the breastworks, and
as it stood there anxiously gazing in the direction of the forest,
Lieutenant-Colonel Barnes, then in command, rode to the front, and
uttered these words: “Men, we may be called upon to meet the enemy in
battle this afternoon, the most of you for the first time. Remember
that you are the only Massachusetts troops in this camp!” The emotion
of pride and sense of responsibility which these simple words awoke in
the breasts of the men was manifested by a hearty cheer all along the
line. Things looked very much like a fight at that moment; the entire
garrison was under arms, and General Mansfield, mounted, was moving
briskly about the camp, speaking cheering words to the troops. This was
his speech to the Twenty-ninth: “My men, Magruder is up the river with
ten thousand troops. I have in camp six thousand men with muskets and
a million rounds of cartridges; and so long as there is left me a man,
a musket, or a cartridge, I’ll keep that flag flying!” pointing to the
post flag flying near his quarters.
The Twentieth New York Regiment was despatched to the “Brick House,”
where it threw up entrenchments and remained during the night. The
enemy expected that our entire fleet would be destroyed in this fight,
and with the “Merrimack” on the river and a large force in front, they
hoped for an easy victory; but finding that our fleet still existed,
they concluded not to attack, and toward night retired.
The repose and quiet which had reigned so constantly during the
long winter of 1861-62, in Camp Butler, were ended by the tragic
occurrences of these two days. As long as the regiment thereafter
continued to remain at Newport News, scarcely a day passed without
its exciting incident; and not infrequently the slumbers of the men
at night were rudely broken by the ominous sound of the long roll and
the sudden screech of a shell thrown from the “Teaser,” an insolent
little nondescript of the enemy’s fleet, which sailed down the river
occasionally, and amused herself by firing into our camp.
Ever after the 9th of March, the mails were irregular, the “Merrimack”
at times blockading the mouth of the river, and rendering water
communication between Newport News and Fortress Monroe difficult and
hazardous. The passenger-boat “Express,” which had run regularly twice
a day between the fort and camp, was obliged to suspend her trips
during the time the “Merrimack” remained at the mouth of the Elizabeth,
as she could not enter the James without the risk of being blown out
of the water by the terrible guns of the iron-clad, and a small boat
of light draught was put on the route in her place. Even this little
steamer was obliged, in passing the Point, to hug the shore closely in
order to avoid the enemy, and to make her trips after nightfall or
before daylight in the morning. In the course of a few weeks our naval
force in the Roads began to increase considerably, and the Confederate
ram withdrew farther up the river, only occasionally showing herself,
and then rarely below Craney Island.
An affair occurred on the 11th of April that was very humiliating, and
caused great indignation and alarm throughout the North. During the
forenoon of this day, the “Merrimack,” “Jamestown,” and “Patrick Henry”
steamed slowly down the Elizabeth into Hampton Roads, directly under
the guns of Fortress Monroe and some dozen large Federal vessels. Near
the mouth of Hampton Creek were anchored a brig and two schooners,
supply-vessels. The Confederate steamer “Jamestown” deliberately ran
up to these vessels, boarded them, and towed them off toward Norfolk
without the slightest opposition being made by the navy or the fort;
and while this disgrace was being visited, unrebuked, upon our flag,
several of the sailing-vessels of our navy were hoisting sails and
making all possible haste seaward, actually running before they were
hurt.
A crowd of highly-exasperated soldiers were looking upon this scene
from Newport News, filled with amazement by the strange and unexplained
conduct of our navy, and of the Commander of Fortress Monroe. It
was impossible that men who had witnessed the brave fight which the
“Cumberland,” about a month before, had made with the iron monster of
the enemy,--who had seen our noble ship go down with the flag flying,
and who had exposed their own lives to save those of her crew,--who had
themselves manned the land-batteries, and done whatever lay in their
power to destroy the foe,--could look upon this scene without having
their soldierly pride stung to the quick, and their feelings of love
for the flag severely wounded.
The enemy’s fleet lay in the Roads till near dark, inviting an
attack from our vessels, but not venturing to make one. Just as the
“Merrimack” was leaving, she bade our fleet good night by firing three
shots into it, which were replied to by the “Naugatuck” and “Octorora.”
Not long after this, an attack was made by our fleet upon the enemy’s
shore-batteries, extending all the way from Ocean View to Sewall’s
Point, a distance often miles or more. The shore was heavily wooded,
and these works, in which were stationed small bodies of troops,
were erected in the edge of the timber, commanding all the available
landing-places. At Sewall’s Point, where there was a large Confederate
camp, were several very powerful works, containing one or more
bomb-proofs. The movement began about one o’clock in the afternoon,
and the line of battle, which was led by the “Monitor,” was made up of
about twelve vessels. Beginning near Ocean View, the fleet commenced
raining a shower of shot and shell upon the beach and woods. Presently
a puff of white smoke was seen rising among the trees, and at the
same moment a huge shell exploded just over the masts of one of the
gunboats. This was followed by another and another in rapid succession;
but the fire from the boats was too severe for the little sand-battery:
its guns were silenced and its garrison dispersed in less than fifteen
minutes.
While this battle was in progress, some of the leading vessels had
stirred up several other works, and a fierce contest ensued, ending,
as did the first, in the course of a few minutes. In this manner,
the fleet continued along the shore, silencing every battery as it
was reached, until it came to the end of Sewall’s Point, where it
encountered the bomb-proofs, and met with a more determined resistance.
Here the chief part of the fighting was done by the “Monitor,” which,
being of lighter draught than the other vessels, lay in near the beach,
and shelled the forts at comparatively close range, while the other
boats shelled the woods and camp.
The view of this battle from “Signal Station Point,” so called (Newport
News), was very grand. The large shot of the “Monitor” would strike the
sides of the earthworks, and throw up vast columns of dust and sand
high into the air, while the shells from the frigates and gunboats
were exploding rapidly among the branches of the forest-trees, tearing
away great pieces of their trunks, and scattering the fragments in all
directions. At short intervals, a long flash of flame and column of
smoke would dart out of the embrasures of the hostile works, showing
that the enemy was not disposed to yield his position.
After this bombardment had been going on for an hour or more, the
“Merrimack” was seen coming down the Elizabeth, and when within a mile
of the Point, every vessel of the Federal fleet turned suddenly and
went toward the fortress. The ram attempted no pursuit, but sailed
down toward the Point and remained stationary for a few moments;
when, as suddenly as they had retreated, the Federal vessels began to
return, whereupon the “Merrimack” retired, and the bombardment of the
land-batteries was renewed, continuing till well into the evening, but
with no decisive results.
A few days after this event (April 19), an affair of some interest
occurred, being an attempt on the part of the Confederates to shell out
the garrison at the Rip-Raps. By means of a gun of remarkable range,
stationed on Sewall’s Point, the enemy was able to throw shell entirely
over the little island, which he did more frequently than to hit it.
The shelling began late in the afternoon, in the midst of a severe
thunder-storm, and lasted until some time after dark, the batteries
at the Rip-Raps replying with vigor. It is not probable that either
party inflicted any injury upon the other; but the display afforded
by the passing shells, made visible by their burning fuses, making
graceful curves, sometimes almost meeting each other in the heavens,
and bursting in the darkness, was grand and startling.
The department of Fortress Monroe had now assumed greater importance
than it had ever possessed before. The attention of the whole world had
been turned thither because of the great battles of the 8th and 9th
of March, which had revolutionized the system of marine architecture,
and furnished examples of human bravery unsurpassed in the annals of
naval warfare. But the department was to be the starting-point of one
of the greatest of our many military expeditions, and for a brief
season the rendezvous of one of the finest armies that ever took the
field; namely, the Army of the Potomac. “The council, composed of four
corps commanders, organized by the President of the United States,
at its meeting on the 13th of March, adopted Fort Monroe as the
base of operations for the movement of the Army of the Potomac upon
Richmond.”[27]
The first arrival of troops was about the middle of March, and from
that time till the middle of April, transports were constantly arriving
in the Roads, loaded with soldiers, horses, and all the munitions of
war.
Fortress Monroe and Hampton soon assumed the appearance of great
mercantile ports; the wharves were filled with vessels and steamers,
and long trains were constantly engaged in transporting the cargoes of
these vessels to the headquarters of the army, then established in the
vicinity of Hampton. The increased activity in the military affairs of
the department was manifest at Newport News, for occasionally troops
were landed at this camp, and among them the entire division of General
Casey, numbering five or six thousand men, and containing several
light batteries, which paraded upon the field near the works. On the
2d of April, the transport steamer “Hero” arrived, bringing a Maine
and Pennsylvania regiment. As the steamer was nearing the landing, she
was fired at from the enemy’s works at Pig Point, and narrowly escaped
being hit. About this time, there came several Western regiments,
all of which bivouacked on the plain, and later the camp was largely
increased by the arrival of other troops. A part of these were destined
to go to New Orleans, and during the latter part of April, took passage
on the transport steamer “Constitution,” at that time the largest in
the service. When the “Constitution” steamed out of the James, she
was exposed to a very severe fire from Sewall’s Point. It was broad
daylight, and as she approached the hostile shore, being compelled
to keep in the main channel because of her great draught, the enemy
opened on her with shell, several of which exploded among her rigging
and inflicted upon her some damage; but fortunately none of the troops
were hurt, though they were all on deck. Events of this nature, and the
daring exploits of Captain Drake DeKay, a very gallant young officer
of General Mansfield’s staff, furnished abundant material for camp
talk, and kept up a constant excitement. DeKay formed a crew from among
the members of companies A and B of the Twenty-ninth Regiment, manned
one of the large barges of the “Cumberland,” saved from the battle,
and made nightly excursions up the river, capturing on one occasion a
schooner, and setting her on fire; and at another time landed on the
opposite shore, and reconnoitred the enemy’s position. When the Army of
the Potomac began to move up the Peninsula, and rumors thick and fast
of great battles and severe skirmishes reached the rear, the excitement
was increased tenfold. Among these rumors, which no one, however
ingenious or industrious, could have traced to their source, especially
to any authentic source, were reports, frequently circulated, that the
regiment was to cross the river and attack Pig Point, to join the Army
of the Potomac, march on Norfolk, and to do a great variety of other
things; and, strangely enough, many of these predicted movements were
eventually made by the regiment.