[Illustration: Courtesy of the Century Co. THE "MONITOR" THE "MERRIMAC" THE ENCOUNTER AT SHORT RANGE, MARCH 9, 1862. ] THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMAC BOTH SIDES OF THE STORY TOLD BYLIEUT. J. L. WORDEN, U. S. N. LIEUT. GREENE, U. S. N. OF THE MONITOR AND H. ASHTON RAMSAY, C. S. N. CHIEF ENGINEER OF THE MERRIMAC ILLUSTRATED HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERSNEW YORK AND LONDONMCMXII COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY HARPER & BROTHERS PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA PUBLISHED MARCH, 1912 CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE Introduction vii I. THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMAC 1_Told by Lieutenant Worden and Lieutenant S. D. Greene ofthe Monitor_ II. THE MERRIMAC AND THE MONITOR 25_Told by H. Ashton Ramsay, Major C. S. A. , Chief Engineerof the Merrimac_ III. THE LAST OF THE MONITOR 67_By an eye-witness, Rear-Admiral E. W. Watson, U. S. N. _ INTRODUCTION This is the first-hand story of what was done and seen and felt on eachside in the battle of the _Monitor_ and the _Merrimac_. The actualexperiences on both vessels are pictured, in one case by the commanderof the _Monitor_, then a lieutenant, and the next in rank, LieutenantGreene, and in the other by Chief-Engineer Ramsay of the _Merrimac_. Clearly such a record of personal experiences has a place by itself inthe literature of the subject. It is quite unnecessary to dwell upon the various controversies whichthis battle has involved. As to the first use of armor, we know thatFrance experimented with floating armored batteries in the Crimean War, and England had armored ships before 1862. As to the invention of themovable turret, which has been a bone of contention, the pages ofColonel Church's _Life of John Ericsson_ and other books are open to thecurious. The struggle of Ericsson to obtain official recognition, theraising of money, the hasty equipment of the _Monitor_, and therestraining orders under which she fought form a story supplementary tothe battle, but of peculiar interest. The _Monitor_ was ordered to acton the defensive. It was her mission first to protect the wooden ships. That explains certain misconceptions of her cautious attitude. And thefact that the powder charges for her Dahlgren guns were officiallylimited to fifteen pounds, although thirty and even fifty pounds wereused with safety afterward, invites speculation upon the results if shehad fought with a free hand. But the main result was reached. The Union fleet was saved. The careerof the _Merrimac_ was checked. No Union vessel was destroyed after the_Monitor_ appeared. It seems proper to note these facts here, in view ofthe fact that Mr. Ramsay's fresh and striking story of the _Merrimac_, which is presented for the first time, enters upon the details of thebattle more fully than the narrative of Lieutenant Worden and LieutenantGreene. Fortunately the discussion has become academic in thehalf-century that has passed since Southern cheers over the firstconquests of the _Merrimac_ faltered before the acclaim which greetedthe _Monitor's_ achievement of her task. One may disagree with thephrasing of various historians on both sides, one may find it difficultto accept the inscription upon the shaft of the _Merrimac_ outside the"Confederate White House" in Richmond, but no American can cease towonder at the fortitude and daring of those other Americans who foughtto the death in those hastily improvised crafts, bearing the brunt notonly of battle, but of a strange and terrible experiment. It is not anargument that this book offers, but a saga of heroes, an illumination ofqualities which have made our history in times of crisis. The year of this battle witnessed the destruction of both the vesselsengaged. Mr. Ramsay describes the blowing-up of the _Merrimac_. Aneye-witness of the sinking of the _Monitor_ off Hatteras, Rear-AdmiralE. W. Watson, who was an officer of the _Rhode Island_, which was towingthe _Monitor_ on that eventful night, has very kindly written a briefdescription of the tragedy for this book. * * * * * The publishers desire to make acknowledgment to the representatives ofthe late Lucius E. Chittenden for the use of Part I of this book, whichappears in Mr. Chittenden's most interesting volume, _Recollections ofPresident Lincoln and his Administration_. THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMAC THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMAC I _Told by Lieutenant Worden and Lieutenant S. D. Greene of the "Monitor"_ Some weeks after the historic battle between the _Monitor_ and the_Merrimac_ in Hampton Roads, on March 9, 1862, the former vessel came tothe Washington Navy-yard unchanged, in the same condition as when shedischarged her parting shot at the _Merrimac_. There she lay until herheroic commander had so far recovered from his injuries as to be able torejoin his vessel. All leaves of absence had been revoked, theabsentees had returned, and were ready to welcome their captain. President Lincoln, Captain Fox, and a limited number of Captain Worden'spersonal friends had been invited to his informal reception. LieutenantGreene received the President and the guests. He was a boy in years--nottoo young to volunteer, however, when volunteers were scarce, and tofight the _Merrimac_ during the last half of the battle, after thecaptain was disabled. The President and the other guests stood on the deck, near the turret. The men were formed in lines, with their officers a little in advance, when Captain Worden ascended the gangway. The heavy guns in thenavy-yard began firing the customary salute when he stepped upon thedeck. One side of his face was permanently blackened by the powder shotinto it from the muzzle of a cannon carrying a shell of one hundredpounds' weight, discharged less than twenty yards away. The Presidentadvanced to welcome him, and introduced him to the few strangerspresent. The officers and men passed in review and were dismissed. Thenthere was a scene worth witnessing. The old tars swarmed around theirloved captain, they grasped his hand, crowded to touch him, thanked Godfor his recovery and return, and invoked blessings upon his head in thename of all the saints in the calendar. He called them by their names, had a pleasant word for each of them, and for a few moments we lookedupon an exhibition of a species of affection that could only have beenthe product of a common danger. When order was restored, the President gave a brief sketch of CaptainWorden's career. Commodore Paulding had been the first, Captain Wordenthe second officer, of the navy, he said, to give an unqualified opinionin favor of armored vessels. Their opinions had been influential withhim and with the Board of Construction. Captain Worden had volunteeredto take command of the _Monitor_, at the risk of his life andreputation, before the keel was laid. He had watched her construction, and his energy had made it possible to send her to sea in time to arrestthe destructive operations of the _Merrimac_. What he had done with anew crew, and a vessel of novel construction, we all knew. He, thePresident, cordially acknowledged his indebtedness to Captain Worden, and he hoped the whole country would unite in the feeling of obligation. The debt was a heavy one, and would not be repudiated when its naturewas understood. The details of the first battle between ironclads wouldinterest every one. At the request of Captain Fox, Captain Worden hadconsented to give an account of his voyage from New York to HamptonRoads, and of what had afterward happened there on board the _Monitor_. In an easy conversational manner, without any effort at display, CaptainWorden told the story, of which the following is the substance: "I suppose, " he began, "that every one knows that we left New YorkHarbor in some haste. We had information that the _Merrimac_ was nearlycompleted, and if we were to fight her on her first appearance, we mustbe on the ground. The _Monitor_ had been hurried from the laying of herkeel. Her engines were new, and her machinery did not move smoothly. Never was a vessel launched that so much needed trial-trips to test hermachinery and get her crew accustomed to their novel duties. We went tosea practically without them. No part of the vessel was finished; therewas one omission that was serious, and came very near causing herfailure and the loss of many lives. In heavy weather it was intendedthat her hatches and all her openings should be closed and batteneddown. In that case all the men would be below, and would have to dependupon artificial ventilation. Our machinery for that purpose provedwholly inadequate. "We were in a heavy gale of wind as soon as we passed Sandy Hook. Thevessel behaved splendidly. The seas rolled over her, and we found herthe most comfortable vessel we had ever seen, except for theventilation, which gave us more trouble than I have time to tell youabout. We had to run into port and anchor on account of the weather, and, as you know, it was two o'clock in the morning of Sunday before wewere alongside the _Minnesota_. Captain Van Brunt gave us an account ofSaturday's experience. He was very glad to make our acquaintance, andnotified us that we must be prepared to receive the _Merrimac_ atdaylight. We had had a very hard trip down the coast, and officers andmen were weary and sleepy. But when informed that our fight wouldprobably open at daylight, and that the _Monitor_ must be put in order, every man went to his post with a cheer. That night there was no sleepon board the _Monitor_. "In the gray of the early morning we saw a vessel approaching, which ourfriends on the _Minnesota_ said was the _Merrimac_. Our fastenings werecast off, our machinery started, and we moved out to meet her half-way. We had come a long way to fight her, and did not intend to lose ouropportunity. "Before showing you over the vessel, let me say that there were threepossible points of weakness in the _Monitor_, two of which might havebeen guarded against in her construction, if there had been more time toperfect her plans. One of them was in the turret, which, as you see, isconstructed of eight plates of inch iron--on the side of the ports, nine--set on end so as to break joints, and firmly bolted together, making a hollow cylinder eight inches thick. It rests on a metal ring ona vertical shaft, which is revolved by power from the boilers. If aprojectile struck the turret at an acute angle, it was expected toglance off without doing damage. But what would happen if it was firedin a straight line to the center of the turret, which in that case wouldreceive the whole force of the blow? It might break off the bolt-headson the interior, which, flying across, would kill the men at the guns;it might disarrange the revolving mechanism, and then we would be whollydisabled. "I laid the _Monitor_ close alongside the _Merrimac_, and gave her ashot. She returned our compliment by a shell weighing one hundred andfifty pounds, fired when we were close together, which struck the turretso squarely that it received the whole force. Here you see the scar, twoand a half inches deep in the wrought iron, a perfect mold of the shell. If anything could test the turret, it was that shot. It did not start arivet-head or a nut! It stunned the two men who were nearest where theball struck, and that was all. I touched the lever--the turret revolvedas smoothly as before. The turret had stood the test; I could mark thatpoint of weakness off my list forever. "You notice that the deck is joined to the side of the hull by a rightangle, at what sailors call the 'plank-shear. ' If a projectile struckthat angle what would happen? It would not be deflected; its whole forcewould be expended there. It might open a seam in the hull below thewater-line, or pierce the wooden hull, and sink us. Here was our secondpoint of weakness. "I had decided how I would fight her in advance. I would keep the_Monitor_ moving in a circle just large enough to give time for loadingthe guns. At the point where the circle impinged upon the _Merrimac_ ourguns should be fired, and loaded while we were moving around thecircuit. Evidently the _Merrimac_ would return the compliment everytime. At our second exchange of shots, she returning six or eight to ourtwo, another of her large shells struck our 'plank-shear' at its angle, and tore up one of the deck-plates, as you see. The shell had struckwhat I believed to be the weakest point in the _Monitor_. We had alreadylearned that the _Merrimac_ swarmed with sharpshooters, for theirbullets were constantly spattering against our turret and our deck. If aman showed himself on deck he would draw their fire. But I did not muchconsider the sharpshooters. It was my duty to investigate the effects ofthat shot. I ordered one of the pendulums to be hauled aside, and, crawling out of the port, walked to the side, lay down upon my chest, and examined it thoroughly. The hull was uninjured, except for a fewsplinters in the wood. I walked back and crawled into the turret--thebullets were falling on the iron deck all about me as thick ashail-stones in a storm. None struck me, I suppose because the vessel wasmoving, and at the angle, and when I was lying on the deck my body madea small mark, difficult to hit. We gave them two more guns, and then Itold the men, what was true, that the _Merrimac_ could not sink us if welet her pound us for a month. The men cheered; the knowledge put newlife into all. "We had more exchanges, and then the _Merrimac_ tried new tactics. Sheendeavored to ram us, to run us down. Once she struck us about amidshipswith her iron ram. Here you see its mark. It gave us a shock, pushed usaround, and that was all the harm. But the movement placed our sidestogether. I gave her two guns, which I think lodged in her side, for, from my lookout crack, I could not see that either shot rebounded. Oursbeing the smaller vessel, and more easily handled, I had no difficultyin avoiding her ram. I ran around her several times, planting our shotin what seemed to be the most vulnerable places. In this way, reservingmy fire until I got the range and the mark, I planted two more shotsalmost in the very spot I had hit when she tried to ram us. Those shotsmust have been effective, for they were followed by a shower of bars ofiron. "The third weak spot was our pilot-house. You see that it is built alittle more than three feet above the deck, of bars of iron, ten bytwelve inches square, built up like a log-house, bolted with very largebolts at the corners where the bars interlock. The pilot stands upon aplatform below, his head and shoulders in the pilot-house. The uppertier of bars is separated from the second by an open space of an inch, through which the pilot may look out at every point of the compass. Thepilot-house, as you see, is a foursquare mass of iron, provided with nomeans of deflecting a ball. I expected trouble from it, and I was notdisappointed. Until my accident happened, as we approached the enemy Istood in the pilot-house and gave the signals. Lieutenant Greene firedthe guns, and Engineer Stimers, here, revolved the turret. "I was below the deck when the corner of the pilot-house was firststruck by a shot or a shell. It either burst or was broken, and no harmwas done. A short time after I had given the signal and, with my eyeclose against the lookout crack, was watching the effect of our shot, something happened to me--my part in the fight was ended. LieutenantGreene, who fought the _Merrimac_ until she had no longer stomach forfighting, will tell you the rest of the story. " Can it be possible that this beardless boy fought one of the historicbattles of the world? This was the thought of every one, as the modest, diffident young Greene was half pushed forward into the circle. "I cannot add much to the Captain's story, " he began. "He had cut outthe work for us, and we had only to follow his pattern. I kept the_Monitor_ either moving around the circle or around the enemy, andendeavored to place our shots as near her amidships as possible, whereCaptain Worden believed he had already broken through her armor. We knewthat she could not sink us, and I thought I would keep right on poundingher as long as she would stand it. There is really nothing new to beadded to Captain Worden's account. We could strike her wherever wechose. Weary as they must have been, our men were full of enthusiasm, and I do not think we wasted a shot. Once we ran out of the circle for amoment to adjust a piece of machinery, and I learn that some of ourfriends feared that we were drawing out of the fight. The _Merrimac_took the opportunity to start for Norfolk. As soon as our machinery wasadjusted we followed her, and got near enough to give her a partingshot. But I was not familiar with the locality; there might be torpedoesplanted in the channel, and I did not wish to take any risk of losingour vessel, so I came back to the company of our friends. But exceptthat we were, all of us, tired and hungry when we came back to the_Minnesota_ at half-past twelve P. M. , the _Monitor_ was just as wellprepared to fight as she was at eight o'clock in the morning when shefired the first gun. " We were then shown the injury to the pilot-house. The mark of the ballwas plain upon the two upper bars, the principal impact being upon thelower of the two. This huge bar was broken in the middle, but heldfirmly at either end. The farther it was pressed in, the stronger wasthe resistance on the exterior. On the inside the fracture in the barwas half an inch wide. Captain Worden's eye was very near to the lookoutcrack, so that when the gun was discharged the shock of the ball knockedhim senseless, while the mass of flame filled one side of his face withcoarse grains of powder. He remained insensible for some hours. "Have you heard what Captain Worden's first inquiry was when herecovered his senses after the general shock to his system?" askedCaptain Fox of the President. "I think I have, " replied Mr. Lincoln, "but it is worth relating tothese gentlemen. " "His question was, " said Captain Fox, "'Have I saved the _Minnesota_?' "'Yes, and whipped the _Merrimac_!' some one answered. "'Then, ' said Captain Worden, 'I don't care what becomes of me. ' "Mr. President, " said Captain Fox, "not much of the history to which wehave listened is new to me. I saw this battle from eight o'clock untilmidday. There was one marvel in it which has not been mentioned--thesplendid handling of the _Monitor_ throughout the battle. The first boldadvance of this diminutive vessel against a giant like the _Merrimac_was superlatively grand. She seemed inspired by Nelson's order atTrafalgar: 'He will make no mistake who lays his vessel alongside theenemy. ' One would have thought the _Monitor_ a living thing. No man wasvisible. You saw her moving around that circle, delivering her fireinvariably at the point of contact, and heard the crash of the missileagainst her enemy's armor above the thunder of her guns, on the bankwhere we stood. It was indescribably grand! "Now, " he continued, "standing here on the deck of this battle-scarredvessel, the first genuine ironclad--the victor in the first fight of theironclads--let me make a confession and perform an act of simplejustice: I never fully believed in armored vessels until I saw thisbattle. I know all the facts which united to give us the _Monitor_. Iwithhold no credit from Captain Ericsson, her inventor, but I know thatthe country is principally indebted for the construction of this vesselto President Lincoln, and for the success of her trial to CaptainWorden, her commander. " THE MERRIMAC AND THE MONITOR II THE MERRIMAC AND THE MONITOR _Told by H. Ashton Ramsay, Major C. S. A. , Chief Engineer of the"Merrimac"_ The _Merrimac_ was built in 1856 as a full-rigged war-frigate, ofthirty-one hundred tons' burden, with auxiliary steam power to be usedonly in case of head winds. She was a hybrid from her birth, marking thetransition from sails to steam as well as from wooden ships toironclads. I became her second assistant engineer in Panama Bay in 1859, cruisingin her around the Horn and back to Norfolk. Her chief engineer wasAlban C. Stimers. Little did we dream that he was to be the right-handman of Ericsson in the construction of the _Monitor_, while I was tohold a similar post in the conversion of our own ship into an ironclad, or that, in less than a year and a half, we would be seeking to destroyeach other, he as chief engineer of the _Monitor_ and I in thecorresponding position on the _Merrimac_. In the harbor of Rio on our return voyage we met the _Congress_, and aswe sailed away after coaling she fired a friendly salute and cheered us, and we responded with a will. When the two ships next met it was in oneof the deadliest combats of naval history. The machinery of the _Merrimac_ was condemned, and she went out ofcommission on our return. She was still at Norfolk when the war brokeout, and was set on fire by the Federals when Norfolk was evacuated. Some of the workmen in the navy-yard scuttled and sank her, thus puttingout the flames. When she was raised by the Confederates she was nothingbut a burned and blackened hulk. Her charred upper works were cut away, and in the center a casementshield one hundred and eighty feet long was built of pitch-pine and oak, two feet thick. This was covered with iron plates, one to two inchesthick and eight inches wide, bolted over each other and through andthrough the woodwork, giving a protective armor four inches inthickness. The shield sloped at an angle of about thirty-six degrees, and was covered with an iron grating that served as an upper deck. Forfifty feet forward and aft her decks were submerged below the water, andthe prow was shod with an iron beak to receive the impact when ramming. Even naval officers were skeptical as to the result. The plates wererolled at the Tredegar mills at Richmond, and arrived so slowly that wewere nearly a year in finishing her. We could have rolled them atNorfolk and built four _Merrimacs_ in that time, had the Southunderstood the importance of a navy at the outbreak of the war. I remember that my old friend and comrade, Captain Charles MacIntosh, while awaiting orders, used to come over and stand on the granitecurbing of the dock to watch the work as it crawled along. "Good-by, Ramsay, " he said, sadly, on the eve of starting to command aram at New Orleans. "I shall never see you again. She will prove yourcoffin. " A short time afterward the poor fellow had both legs shot fromunder him and died almost immediately. Rifled guns were just coming into use, and Lieutenant Brooke, whodesigned the _Merrimac_, considered the question of having some of herguns rifled. How to procure such cannon was not easily discovered, as wehad no foundries in the South. There were many cast-iron cannon that hadfallen into our hands at Norfolk, and he conceived the idea of turningsome of this ordnance into rifles. In order to enable them to stand theadditional bursting strain we forged wrought-iron bands and shrank themover the chambers, and we devised a special tool for rifling the bore ofthe guns. They gave effective service. Many details remained uncompleted when we were at last floated out ofdry-dock, but there was great pressure for us to make some demonstrationthat might serve to check McClellan in his advance up the Peninsula. The ship was still full of workmen hurrying her to completion whenCommodore Franklin Buchanan arrived from Richmond one March morning andordered every one out of the ship, except her crew of three hundred andfifty men which had been hastily drilled on shore in the management ofthe big guns, and directed Executive Officer Jones to prepare to sail atonce. At that time nothing was known of our destination. All we knew was thatwe were off at last. Buchanan sent for me. The veteran sailor, the beauideal of a naval officer of the old school, with his tall form, harshfeatures, and clear, piercing eyes, was pacing the deck with a stride Ifound it difficult to match, although he was then over sixty and I buttwenty-four. "Ramsay, " he asked, "what would happen to your engines and boilers ifthere should be a collision?" "They are braced tight, " I assured him. "Though the boilers standfourteen feet, they are so securely fastened that no collision couldbudge them. " "I am going to ram the _Cumberland_, " said my commander. "I'm told shehas the new rifled guns, the only ones in their whole fleet we havecause to fear. The moment we are in the Roads I'm going to make rightfor her and ram her. How about your engines? They were in bad shape inthe old ship, I understand. Can we rely on them? Should they be testedby a trial trip?" "She will have to travel some ten miles down the river before we get tothe Roads, " I said. "If any trouble develops I'll report it. I thinkthat will be sufficient trial trip. " I watched the machinery carefully as we sped down the Elizabeth River, and soon satisfied myself that all was well. Then I went on deck. "How fast is she going do you think?" I asked one of the pilots. "Eight or nine knots an hour, " he replied, making a rapid calculationfrom objects ashore. The _Merrimac_ as an ironclad was faster understeam than she had ever been before with her top hamper of masts andsails. I presented myself to the commodore. "The machinery is all right, sir, "I assured him. Across the river at Newport News gleamed the batteries and white tentsof the Federal camp and the vessels of the fleet blockading the mouth ofthe James, chief among them the _Congress_ and the _Cumberland_, talland stately, with every line and spar clearly defined against the blueMarch sky, their decks and ports bristling with guns, while the riggingof the _Cumberland_ was gay with the red, white, and blue of sailors'garments hung out to dry. As we rounded into view the white-winged sailing craft that sprinkledthe bay and long lines of tugs and small boats scurried to the farshore like chickens on the approach of a hovering hawk. They had seenour black hulk which looked like the roof of a barn afloat. Suddenlyhuge volumes of smoke began to pour from the funnels of the frigates_Minnesota_ and _Roanoke_ at Old Point. They had seen us, too, and weregetting up steam. Bright-colored signal flags were run up and down themasts of all the ships of the Federal fleet. The _Congress_ shook outher topsails. Down came the clothes-line on the _Cumberland_, and boatswere lowered and dropped astern. Our crew was summoned to the gun-deck, and Buchanan addressed us:"Sailors, in a few minutes you will have the long-looked-for opportunityof showing your devotion to our cause. Remember that you are about tostrike for your country and your homes. The Confederacy expects everyman to do his duty. Beat to quarters. " Every terse, burning word isengraved on my memory, though fifty years have passed since they werespoken. Just as he had finished, the mess caterer touched my elbow andwhispered: "Better get your lunch now, Mr. Ramsay. It will be your lastchance. The galley-fires must be put out when the magazines are opened. " On my way I saw Assistant-Surgeon Garnett at a table laying out lint andsurgical implements. I had no appetite, and merely tasted some coldtongue and a cup of coffee. Passing along the gun-deck, I saw the paleand determined countenances of the guns' crews, as they stoodmotionless at their posts, with set lips unsmiling, contrasting with thecareless expression of sailors when practised at "fighting quarters" ona man-of-war. This was the real thing. As we approached the Federal ships we were met by a veritable storm ofshells which must have sunk any ship then afloat--except the _Merrimac_. They struck our sloping sides, were deflected upward to burst harmlesslyin the air, or rolled down and fell hissing into the water, dashing thespray up into our ports. As we drew nearer the _Cumberland_, above the roar of battle rang thevoice of Buchanan, "Do you surrender?" "Never!" retorted the gallant Morris. The crux of what followed was down in the engine-room. Two gongs, thesignal to stop, were quickly followed by three, the signal to reverse. There was an ominous pause, then a crash, shaking us all off our feet. The engines labored. The vessel was shaken in every fiber. Our bow wasvisibly depressed. We seemed to be bearing down with a weight on ourprow. Thud, thud, thud, came the rain of shot on our shield from thedouble-decked battery of the _Congress_. There was a terrible crash inthe fire-room. For a moment we thought one of the boilers had burst. No, it was the explosion of a shell in our stack. Was any one hit? No, thankGod! The firemen had been warned to keep away from the up-take, so thefragments of shell fell harmlessly on the iron floor-plates. We had rushed on the doomed ship, relentless as fate, crashing throughher barricade of heavy spars and torpedo fenders, striking her below herstarboard fore-chains, and crushing far into her. For a moment the wholeweight of her hung on our prow and threatened to carry us down with her, the return wave of the collision curling up into our bow port. The _Cumberland_ began to sink slowly, bow first, but continued to fightdesperately for the forty minutes that elapsed after her doom wassealed, while we were engaged with both the _Cumberland_ and the_Congress_, being right between them. We had left our cast-iron beak in the side of the _Cumberland_. Like thewasp, we could sting but once, leaving it in the wound. Our smoke-stack was riddled, our flag was shot down several times, andwas finally secured to a rent in the stack. On our gun-deck the men werefighting like demons. There was no thought or time for the wounded anddying as they tugged away at their guns, training and sighting theirpieces while the orders rang out, "Sponge, load, fire!" "The muzzle of our gun has been shot away, " cried one of the gunners. "No matter, keep on loading and firing--do the best you can with it, "replied Lieutenant Jones. "Keep away from the side ports, don't lean against the shield, look outfor the sharpshooters, " rang the warnings. Some of our men who failed toheed them and leaned against the shield were stunned and carried below, bleeding at the ears. All were full of courage and worked with a will;they were so begrimed with powder that they looked like negroes. "Pass along the cartridges. " "More powder. " "A shell for number six. " "A wet wad for the hot-shot gun. " "Put out that pipe and don't light it again on peril of your life. " Such were the directions and commands, issued like clockwork amid theconfusion of battle. Our executive officer seemed to be in a dozenplaces at once. This gives some faint notion of the scene passing behind our grim ironcasement, which to the beholders without seemed a machine ofdestruction. Human hearts were beating and bleeding there. Human liveswere being sacrificed. Pain, death, wounds, glory--that was the sum ofit. On the doomed ship _Cumberland_ the battle raged with equal fury. Thesanded deck was red and slippery with blood. Delirium seized the crew. They stripped to their trousers, kicked off their shoes, tiedhandkerchiefs about their heads, and fought and cheered as their shipsank beneath their feet. Then the order came, "All save who can. " Therewas a scramble for the spar-deck and a rush overboard. The ship listed. The after pivot-gun broke loose and rushed down the decline like afurious animal, rolling over a man as it bounded overboard, leaving amass of mangled flesh on deck. We now turned to the _Congress_, which had tried to escape but hadgrounded, and the battle raged once more, broadside upon broadside, delivered at close range, the _Merrimac_ working closer all the timewith her bow pointed as if to ram the _Congress_. A shell fromLieutenant Wood's gun sped through their line of powder-passers, notonly cutting down the men, but exploding the powder buckets in theirhands, spreading death and destruction and setting fire to the ship. At last came the order, "Cease firing. " "The _Congress_ has surrendered, " some one cried. "Look out of the port. See, she has run up white flags. The officers are waving theirhandkerchiefs. " At this several of the officers started to leave their posts and rush ondeck, but Lieutenant Jones in his stentorian voice sang out: "Stand byyour guns, and, lieutenants, be ready to resume firing at the word. Seethat your guns are well supplied with ammunition during the lull. Dr. Garnett, see how those poor fellows yonder are coming on. Mr. Littlepage, tell Paymaster Semple to have a care of the berth-deck anduse every precaution against fire. Mr. Hasker, call away the cutter'screw and have them in readiness. Mr. Lindsay [to the carpenter], soundthe well, examine the forehold, and report if you find anything wrong. "Such was Catesby Ap. R. Jones, the executive officer of the _Merrimac_. When it was fully evident that there was to be a suspension ofhostilities, and these details had all been attended to, several of theofficers went to stand beside Buchanan on the upper grating. The whole scene was changed. A pall of black smoke hung about the shipsand obscured the clean-cut outlines of the shore. Down the river werethe three frigates _St. Lawrence_, _Roanoke_, and _Minnesota_, alsoenveloped in the clouds of battle that now and then reflected thecrimson lightnings of the god of war. The masts of the _Cumberland_ wereprotruding above the water. The _Congress_ presented a terrible scene ofcarnage. The gunboats _Beaufort_ and _Raleigh_ were signaled to take off thewounded and fire the ship. They were driven away by sharpshooters onshore, who suddenly turned their fire on us, notwithstanding the whiteflag of the _Congress_. Buchanan fell, severely wounded in the groin. As he was being carried below he said to Executive Officer Jones: "Plughot shot into her and don't leave her until she's afire. They must lookafter their own wounded, since they won't let us"--a characteristiccommand when it is remembered that his own brother, McKean Buchanan, waspaymaster of the _Congress_ and might have been numbered among thewounded. We had kept two furnaces for the purpose of heating shot. They wererolled into the flames on a grating, rolled out into iron buckets, hoisted to the gun-deck, and rolled into the guns, which had beenprepared with wads of wet hemp. Then the gun would be touched offquickly and the shot sent on its errand of destruction. Leaving the _Congress_ wrapped in sheets of flame, we made for the threeother frigates. The _St. Lawrence_ and _Roanoke_ had run aground, butwere pulled off by tugs and made their escape. The _Minnesota_ was notso fortunate, but we drew twenty-three feet of water and could not getnear enough to destroy her, while our guns could not be elevated owingto the narrow embrasures, and their range was only a mile; so we madefor our moorings at Sewall's Point. All the evening we stood on deck watching the brilliant display of theburning ship. Every part of her was on fire at the same time, thered-tongued flames running up shrouds, masts, and stays, and extendingout to the yard-arms. She stood in bold relief against the blackbackground, lighting up the Roads and reflecting her lurid lights on thebosom of the now placid and hushed waters. Every now and then the flameswould reach one of the loaded cannon and a shell would hiss at randomthrough the darkness. About midnight came the grand finale. Themagazines exploded, shooting up a huge column of firebrands hundreds offeet in the air, and then the burning hulk burst asunder and melted intothe waters, while the calm night spread her sable mantle over HamptonRoads. The _Monitor_ arrived during the evening and anchored under the stern ofthe _Minnesota_, her lighter draught enabling her to do so withoutdanger. To us the ensuing engagement was in the nature of a surprise. If we had known we were to meet her we would have at least been suppliedwith solid shot for our rifled guns. We might even have thought best towait until our iron beak, lost in the side of the _Cumberland_, could bereplaced. Buchanan was incapacitated by his wound, and the commanddevolved upon Lieutenant Jones. We left our anchorage shortly before eight o'clock next morning andsteamed across and up stream toward the _Minnesota_, thinking to makeshort work of her and soon return with her colors trailing under ours. We approached her slowly, feeling our way cautiously along the edge ofthe channel, when suddenly, to our astonishment, a black object thatlooked like the historic description, "a barrel-head afloat with acheese-box on top of it, " moved slowly out from under the _Minnesota_and boldly confronted us. It must be confessed that both ships werequeer-looking craft, as grotesque to the eyes of the men of '62 as theywould appear to those of the present generation. And now the great fight was on, a fight the like of which the world hadnever seen. With the battle of yesterday old methods had passed away, and with them the experience of a thousand years "of battle and ofbreeze" was brought to naught. We hovered about each other in spirals, gradually contracting thecircuits until we were within point-blank range, but our shell glancedfrom the _Monitor's_ turret just as hers did from our sloping sides. Fortwo hours the cannonade continued without perceptible damage to eitherof the combatants. On our gun-deck all was bustle, smoke, grimy figures, and sterncommands, while down in the engine and boiler rooms the sixteen furnaceswere belching out fire and smoke, and the firemen standing in front ofthem, like so many gladiators, tugged away with devil's-claw andslice-bar, inducing by their exertions more and more intense combustionand heat. The noise of the cracking, roaring fires, escaping steam, andthe loud and labored pulsations of the engines, together with the roarof battle above and the thud and vibration of the huge masses of ironwhich were hurled against us produced a scene and sound to be comparedonly with the poet's picture of the lower regions. And then an accident occurred that threatened our utter destruction. Westuck fast aground on a sand-bar. Our situation was critical. The _Monitor_ could, at her leisure, comeclose up to us and yet be out of our reach, owing to our inability todeflect our guns. In she came and began to sound every chink in ourarmor--every one but that which was actually vulnerable, had she knownit. The coal consumption of the two days' fight had lightened our prow untilour unprotected submerged deck was almost awash. The armor on our sidesbelow the water-line had been extended but about three feet, owing toour hasty departure before the work was finished. Lightened as we were, these exposed portions rendered us no longer an ironclad, and the_Monitor_ might have pierced us between wind and water had she depressedher guns. Fearing that she might discover our vulnerable "heel of Achilles" we hadto take all chances. We lashed down the safety valves, heapedquick-burning combustibles into the already raging fires, and broughtthe boilers to a pressure that would have been unsafe under ordinarycircumstances. The propeller churned the mud and water furiously, butthe ship did not stir. We piled on oiled cotton waste, splints of wood, anything that would burn faster than coal. It seemed impossible that theboilers could stand the pressure we were crowding upon them. Just as wewere beginning to despair there was a perceptible movement, and the_Merrimac_ slowly dragged herself off the shoal by main strength. Wewere saved. Before our adversary saw that we were again afloat we made a dash forher, catching her quite unprepared, and tried to ram her, but ourcommander was dubious about the result of a collision without ouriron-shod beak, and gave the signal to reverse the engines long beforewe reached the _Monitor_. As a result I did not feel the slightest shockdown in the engine-room, though we struck her fairly enough. The carpenter reported that the effect was to spring a leak forward. Lieutenant Jones sent for me and asked me about it. "It is impossible we can be making much water, " I replied, "for theskin of the vessel is plainly visible in the crank-pits. " A second time he sent for me and asked if we were making any water inthe engine-room. "With the two large Worthington pumps, besides the bilge injections, wecould keep her afloat for hours, even with a ten-inch shell in herhull, " I assured him, repeating that there was no water in the engineand boiler rooms. We glided past, leaving the _Monitor_ unscathed, but got between her andthe _Minnesota_ and opened fire on the latter. The _Monitor_ gallantlyrushed to her rescue, passing so close under our submerged stern thatshe almost snapped off our propeller. As she was passing, so near thatwe could have leaped aboard her, Lieutenant Wood trained the stern-gunon her when she was only twenty yards from its muzzle and delivered arifle-pointed shell which dislodged the iron logs sheltering the_Monitor's_ conning-tower, carrying away the steering-gear and signalapparatus, and blinding Captain Worden. It was a mistake to place theconning-tower so far from the turret and the vitals of the ship. Sincethat time it has been located over the turret. The _Monitor's_ turretwas a death-trap. It was only twenty feet in diameter, and every shotknocked off bolt-heads and sent them flying against the gunners. If oneof them barely touched the side of the turret he would be stunned andmomentarily paralyzed. Lieutenant Greene had been taken below in adazed condition and never fully recovered from the effects. One of theport shutters had been jammed, putting a gun out of commission, andthere was nothing for the _Monitor_ to do but to retreat and leave the_Minnesota_ to her fate. Captain Van Brunt, of the latter vessel, thought he was now doomed andwas preparing to fire his ship when he saw the _Merrimac_ alsowithdrawing toward Norfolk. It was at this juncture that Lieutenant Jones had sent for me and said:"The pilots will not place us nearer to the _Minnesota_, and we cannotafford to run the risk of getting aground again. I'm going to haul offunder the guns of Sewall's Point and renew the attack on the rise of thetide. Bank your fires and make any necessary adjustments to themachinery, but be prepared to start up again later in the afternoon. " I went below to comply with his instructions, and later was astonishedto hear cheering. Rushing on deck, I found we were passing Craney Islandon our way to Norfolk, and were being cheered by the soldiers of thebattery. Our captain had consulted with some of his lieutenants. He explainedafterward that as the _Monitor_ had proved herself so formidable anadversary he had thought best to get a supply of solid shot, have theprow replaced, the port shutters put on, the armor belt extended belowwater, and the guns whose muzzles had been shot away replaced, and thenrenew the engagement with every chance of victory. I remember feelingas though a wet blanket had been thrown over me. His reasoning wasdoubtless good, but it ignored the moral effect of leaving the Roadswithout forcing the _Minnesota_ to surrender. As the _Merrimac_ passed up the river, trailing the ensign of the_Congress_ under the stars and bars, she received a tremendous ovationfrom the crowds that lined the shores, while hundreds of small boats, gay with flags and bunting, converted our course into a triumphalprocession. We went into dry-dock that very afternoon, and in about three weeks wereready to renew the battle upon more advantageous terms, but the_Monitor_, though reinforced by two other ironclads, the _Galena_ andthe _Naugatuck_, and every available vessel of the United States navy, was under orders from Washington to refuse our challenge and bottle usup in the Roads. This strategy filled us with rage and dismay, but itproved very effective. Our new commander, Commodore Josiah Tatnall, was burning to distinguishhimself, but he was under orders not to risk the destruction or captureof the _Merrimac_ by leaving the Roads, as General Huger's division atNorfolk would then be at the mercy of the Federal fleet. Week after weekwas passing and with it his golden opportunity. At last we went toRichmond and pressed a plan for a sortie upon the President. He returnedone afternoon and ordered every one aboard. That night we slipped downthe Roads and were soon passing Fort Monroe on our way out into theChesapeake. Presently our army signal officer began waving his lantern communicatingwith our distant batteries, and then told the result to Officer Jones, who reported to Tatnall. "We have been ordered to return, sir, " he said. Tatnall was viewing the dim outlines of the fort through his glass andpretended not to hear. "The order is peremptory, " repeated Jones. Tatnall hesitated. He was of half a mind to disobey. "Old Huger hasoutwitted me, " he muttered. "Do what you please. I leave you in command. I'm going to bed, " and he went below in a high dudgeon. Tatnall was astriking-looking man, standing over six feet, with florid complexion, deep-sunken blue eyes, and a protruding under lip. That he did not havea chance to fight was no fault of his. Our life on board for the weeks that followed was far from comfortable. We were within sight of the enemy, and at every movement of the opposingfleet it was "clear away for action. " Steam was kept up continually. Ourcabins were without air ports and no ray of light even penetrated theward-rooms. There was nowhere to walk but on the upper grating--a modernprison is far more comfortable. Sometimes the sailors waded on thesubmerged deck, giving rise to the superstition among the darkies thatthey were the crew of the "debble ship" with power to walk on thewater. Norfolk was now being evacuated and we were covering Huger's retreat. When this was effected we were to receive the signal and to make our ownway up the James. Norfolk was in Federal hands, and Huger haddisappeared without signaling us, when our pilots informed us thatHarrison's Bar, which we must cross, drew only eighteen feet of water. Under their advice, on the night of May 11th we lightened ship bythrowing overboard all our coal and ballast, thus raising ourunprotected decks above water. At last all was ready--and then we foundthat the wind which had been blowing down-stream all day had swept thewater off the bar. When morning dawned the Federal fleet must discoverour defenseless condition, and defeat and capture were certain, for wewere now no longer an ironclad. It was decided to abandon the vessel and set her on fire. We took the_Merrimac_ to the bight of Craney Island, and about midnight the work ofdisembarking the crew began. We had but two boats, and it was sunrisebefore our three hundred and fifty men were all ashore. Cotton waste andtrains of powder were strewn about the deck, and Executive OfficerJones, who was the last to leave the ship, applied the slow match. Thenwe marched silently through the woods to join Huger, fifteen miles awayat Suffolk. Still unconquered, we hauled down our drooping colors, their laurels allfresh and green, with mingled pride and grief, gave her to the flames, and set the lambent fires roaring about the shotted guns. The slowmatch, the magazine, and that last, deep, low, sullen, mournful boomtold our people, now far away on the march, that their gallant ship wasno more. THE LAST OF THE MONITOR III THE LAST OF THE MONITOR _By an eye-witness, Rear-Admiral E. W. Watson, U. S. N. _ On the 29th of December, 1862, nine months after her memorable combatwith the _Merrimac_, the _Monitor_, Commander John P. Bankhead, leftHampton Roads in tow of the _Rhode Island_, commanded by Captain StephenDecatur Trenchard, for Beaufort, North Carolina. The weather at the timeof starting looked favorable for the trip, but on the following day, when nearing Cape Hatteras, the wind came out from the southeast andgradually freshened until by evening it was blowing a moderate gale, with a tolerably heavy sea running. It was soon seen that the _Monitor_was making heavy weather of it, and the engines were slowed down, butthe course was still kept head to the wind and sea. This was a mistake, for experience later on in towing other vessels ofher class proved that the safest way to handle them in heavy weather wasto let them lie in the trough of the sea, when the waves would wash overtheir decks and the roll would not be excessive. The _Monitor_ wasclosely watched, all on board the _Rhode Island_ feeling anxious for hersafety. Toward the end of the first watch--between 8 P. M. Andmidnight--the signal of distress, a red lantern, was hoisted on the_Monitor_, and, unknown to those on the _Rhode Island_, the hawser wascut and the anchor of the _Monitor_ let go. The _Rhode Island_ immediately stopped her engine, and three boats werecalled away with an officer in charge of each, and were sent to take offthe _Monitor's_ people. With the heavy sea running it was a difficultmatter to go alongside of her, and the first boat to reach her wasthrown by a wave upon the deck and a hole stove in her. The next wavewashed the boat off, and with considerable difficulty she took on boardas many of the men as in her leaky condition could make the return tripsafely. When the boats came alongside of the _Monitor_, her captain andexecutive officer went upon the deck and, clinging to the life-lineswith the waves washing over them, called to the crew to come down fromthe turret and get into the boats, which they were reluctant to do atfirst. Some were able to jump into the boats, and some landed in thewater and were hauled in. Seeing an old quartermaster with a largebundle under his arm, the executive officer, thinking that it was hisclothes-bag, told him that that was no time to be trying to save hiseffects. He said nothing, but threw it into the boat. When the bundlewas passed up over the side of the _Rhode Island_ it proved to be alittle messenger-boy--probably the smallest and youngest one in theservice. The three boats were finally loaded and made their way back tothe ship. In the mean while the _Rhode Island_, in backing her engines, had fouledthe hawser with her port paddle-wheel, and being directly to windward ofthe _Monitor_, with her engines helpless, drifted down upon her. Itlooked at one time as if she would strike the bow of the _Monitor_, but, fortunately, she just missed it, and, scraping along her side, driftedoff to leeward. Another boat was sent to bring off the remainder of the _Monitor's_crew, but, being to leeward now, she could make only slow headwayagainst the seas, and before she got to her the men saw the _Monitor's_light disappear, and knew that she had gone down. The hawser havingfinally been cleared from the _Rhode Island's_ wheel, she steamed aroundsearching for the boat, sending up rockets and burning blue lights toshow her position. When the day dawned nothing could be seen. Afterhailing a passing government vessel and telling them to search for theboat, the _Rhode Island_ steamed with all speed for Fortress Monroe toreport the loss. When the survivors of the ill-fated vessel were mustered on the deck ofthe _Rhode Island_, four officers and twelve men were found missing, allof them probably buried in an iron coffin in a watery grave about fiftymiles to the southward and eastward of Cape Hatteras Light. * * * * * The missing boat and crew of the _Rhode Island_ were found by thatvessel a week later safe in Beaufort, North Carolina. They had beenpicked up by a schooner and taken into that port. The officer in chargeof the boat reported that in the early morning he had sighted a schoonerstanding toward them, and had hoisted a black silk handkerchiefbelonging to one of the crew on an oar as a signal of distress, but thepeople in the schooner, evidently thinking them pirates who had come outof some one of the inlets of the coast, turned tail and scudded awayfrom them. A second schooner, coming along soon after, was morehospitable and took them aboard. THE END