Iron Ships, Iron Men

by Christopher Nicole

  But she was still, for all her drawbacks and her absurd appearance, a formidable ship, and a unique one, and Buchanan, as she neared completion, allowed some planned leaks to filter down the river, to the effect that the Confederates were preparing to destroy the Union fleet — from reports which came back up, the Federals were distinctly alarmed.

  The work continued at an ever increasing pace right through February, but at the end of that month Buchanan was able to inform Secretary Mallory that the ship was ready for action. ‘All we need now,’ he wrote, ‘is an opportunity for a reasonable trial under way, preferably on a river with more room to manoeuvre than the Elizabeth, and we will be able to face the enemy.’

  Mallory’s reply was decisive. ‘There will be no time for trials,’ he wrote. ‘We have positive information that General McClellan has concentrated his army and is preparing to move it to the James Peninsula, by sea, to commence an advance upon Richmond, this advance probably to be co-ordinated with the movement of another Federal army down from Maryland and across the Rappahannock. It is therefore imperative that you proceed to Hampton Roads at the very earliest opportunity, and there destroy or drive from their position the Federal fleet.

  ‘Your victory, in which I have every confidence, will have far more than merely local effect, for I can tell you that, following our interesting discussion of last August, and your own success in converting theVirginia, I have decided to extend this plan as widely and as rapidly as possible. Another ironclad harbour defence frigate, to be named theLouisiana, is at present being prepared in New Orleans, and a third, which will be theArkansas, is undergoing conversion up the Yazoo River. Neither of these ships can be as powerful as theVirginia. Their effectiveness will therefore, in the first instance, rest on the amount of influence your command has upon the thinking of Federal captains. Should you enjoy the success I am sure you will, I see an end to the Federal blockade in the near future, even before the arrival of our ships from England, which hopefully will enable us to carry the fight at sea to the enemy. So take the hopes of the Confederacy into battle with you; you may be sure we shall be watching your progress with eager interest.’

  Buchanan pulled his nose, then read the relevant part of the message to his officers. ‘We shall of course comply with our orders,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow morning, gentlemen, we move down the river to the Chesapeake, where we will engage the enemy.’

  Not a man on board slept that night. Everyone was aware not only that they were about to take part in a mission that might be decisive for the outcome of the war, but that no one had any idea what sort of battle it would be, or how it would turn out. Theoretically, the Federal cannon balls should not be able to harm the Confederate ship — but not one of theVirginia'scannon had ever been fired, even at practice. Theoretically, because of the ship’s invulnerability, there could be no risk to anyone on board — but none of them, save only Rod and Buchanan, had ever been under fire at sea. Theoretically, theVirginia should be able to steam up and down, blasting everything which came within range of her guns — but because of her deep draft she would be restricted to the main channels in the Roads, and it was well known that the Roads was littered with sandbanks.

  This last fact had determined Buchanan to employ a pilot, a local fisherman from Norfolk, who would know the waters better than anyone, but he was late to join the ship, and it was actually noon, on 8 March 1862, before the moorings were dropped, and the ship began steaming very slowly down the river towards her appointment with history, black smoke belching skywards from her funnel to announce to the Federals, long before they would be able to see her, that a large vessel was on her way towards them.

  Five small gunboats accompanied theVirginia as she made her way downstream, but they were hardly intended to take any part in the coming battle, at least until the larger Federal warships had been disposed of. Yet they were all Rod saw, apart from the wooded banks of the river itself, as the ship proceeded on her way; as second officer he was in charge of the gun deck, which was the whole amidships section of the vessel; although there was a bow port for the single chaser, the guns were mounted so nearly at the waterline even that provided little more than a glimpse of the twisting river. Captain Buchanan and Lieutenant Jones were on the bridge with the helmsman and the pilot; all the rest of the crew, apart from the engine room staff, were gathered within the iron gundeck, which was rapidly beginning to warm up as the sun played on it, however chill it had been during the night.

  Rod prowled from side to side, peering through the open ports, trying to identify the ship’s position. Every gun was loaded and waiting, with piles of additional shot beside each piece, and his men were just as apprehensively eager as himself, stamping their feet and slapping their hands together, and above all, sweating.

  Occasionally information was passed down the ladder at the forward end which led to the bridge, shouted above the rumble of the engine immediately beneath them, but the cry, ‘Enemy vessel ahead’, took them by surprise; they were still inside the Elizabeth. Rod peered through a port, but could see nothing.

  ‘Identified as the armoured tugZouave,’ the bridge said. ‘Carrying a single thirty-pounder. We shall ignore him.’

  Rod looked at his men, and they looked back at him. Then there was a huge splash, followed by another, soon followed by the rolling reports of the gun itself. TheZouave had fired the opening shots of the action.

  ‘Enemy withdrawing,’ the bridge informed them.

  ‘Or we’d mow her flat,’ one of the gunners said, which brought a chuckle of relief from the tension.

  ‘Norfolk abeam,’ the bridge told them.

  Through the starboard ports they could look out at the gaunt remains of the shipyard as theVirginia passed it; now the whole of Hampton Roads must be directly ahead.

  ‘Seven, eight, nine, eleven, thirteen enemy vessels visible,’ the bridge said. ‘All situated along the north side of the Roads, from Newport News to Old Point Comfort. Mostly small stuff, but we can see the frigateCumberland, and the frigateMinnesota, they carry fifty guns each, and the sloopCongress. She has thirty guns.’

  Rod could control his impatience no longer, and clambered up the ladder for a quick look, catching his breath at the scene.

  The broad stretch of water in front of theVirginiawas empty of shipping, and calm, shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. The Federal squadron was indeed clustered along the northern side of the harbour, and was at anchor, the large, three-mastedCumberlandclosest at hand, with the tugZouavealongside, clearly making a report on the strange apparition she had encountered up the river. TheCongresswas anchored just astern; obviously neither ship had expected action this day, for the seamen’s clothes were still drying in the rigging. Further off could be seen theMinnesota, also at anchor, in the midst of a cluster of smaller vessels.

  ‘TheCumberland will be our first target, Mr Bascom,’ Buchanan said. ‘You’ll prepare for action.’

  ‘Aye-aye, sir,’ Rod said, and slid back down the ladder. He had hardly reached the lower deck when he heard the sound of gunfire; the Federal ships had cleared their decks in remarkably short time. Still no orders came to him, so he kept his men under control with words of reassurance, while the ironclad moved slowly towards its target.

  Then there came an enormous ‘clang’ from above them, followed by another, and the ship trembled. The Federals had got the range. ‘Those are cannon balls, lads,’ Rod said. ‘Bouncing off our armour. Now think what they’d be doing to a wooden hull. This ship is invulnerable.’

  The men gave a cheer, mostly of relief, Rod thought, that so far their officers’ promises had been made good.

  The orders came down from the bridge. ‘Range estimated five hundred yards. Open fire.’

  Only the bow gun would bear, but Rod himself sighted her; theZouavehad prudently removed herself from alongside theCumberland, and the frigate was now clearly in sight, still anchored, although men were now working the capstan, and wreathed in smoke as she fired every gun sh
e could bring to bear at the approaching juggernaut.

  ‘Fire,’ Rod said.

  The gun roared, the confined space became filled with smoke, and those on the bridge gave a cheer; theVirginia's very first shot had struck home, and the frigate was on fire amidships.

  ‘Fire as any enemy bears,’ Buchanan commanded. ‘I propose to ram.’

  ‘Reload your piece,’ Rod snapped, and ran down the starboard side. Now theCongresswas in sight, also firing away most vigorously. ‘Fire your broadside,’ Rod commanded. The guns exploded and recoiled, theVirginiatrembled, and the gundeck became a cloud of swirling, choking smoke, rancid with the stench of cordite. Men coughed as they worked, but they worked. Rod ran forward, saw theCumberlandvery close now. Her anchor was up and she had raised steam, but there was no way she could escape the coming impact. She continued to fire, and the clanging of the balls on the iron deck-house — at this close range she could hardly miss — was continuous and deafening. But not a single shot penetrated into theVirginia.

  The bow chaser was still not reloaded — it took some fifteen minutes a time — so Rod ordered the port closed to give some protection from the coming impact, turned back to the other guns, and it seemed all hell broke loose. There was a terrifying flash of light accompanied by an enormous crash. TheVirginiashook from stem to stern, then recovered herself. But in the gun deck there was utter chaos, with smoke swirling, fire blazing, men screaming and cursing ... desperately Rod made his way to the scene of the disaster, realised what had happened. A shot from theCongress — it had to be pure luck — had actually struck the muzzle of one of the Dahlgrens, exploding it and throwing the remainder of the gun right off its wheels and into the centre of the deck. Several men had been killed in the explosion, several more were moaning with pain. And panic seemed to have gripped the rest, who had stopped firing.

  ‘Resume firing,’ he snapped. ‘Water on this blaze, quickly now. Stretcher detail, move these men aft.’ He could do nothing about the dismounted gun, at the moment, and the disaster, if bad for morale, had not in any way affected the power of theVirginia. Now there was firing from the port side, where theMinnesotahad got under way and was hammering at the ironclad, but she kept at a distance, and her shot was striking less often than those from either theCumberlandor theCongress. Rod gave the orders to return fire thence also, then ran forward again, to take a hasty look at what was about to happen, for theCumberland was now within fifty yards, beginning to move but far too slowly, her decks a mass of terror-stricken men as they realised they were lost.

  ‘Brace yourselves,’ he bawled above the din, and himself grasped a deck stanchion. Seconds later there came a tremendous impact, which threw men about like toys, and then the engine died for a moment, to pick up again as the screw went into reverse. TheVirginia drew back, and Rod threw open the gunport again, to gaze in horror at the big, proud frigate, already heeling over to sink as men leapt into the water; an enormous hole, big enough to drive a coach and horses through, had been ripped in her side.

  ‘Maintain fire,’ came the orders from the bridge.

  For theCongress, now close on the starboard side, was also a blazing wreck, and ready for destruction. Indeed, as theVirginia prepared to turn her full attention to her, she hauled down her colours, her men took to the boats, and began pulling desperately for the shore.

  ‘Two down and one to go,’ the bridge said, and theVirginiabegan to turn again, towards theMinnesota, which had steadily been drawing nearer. Rod again laid the bow gun as the two ships faced each other, fired and again had the satisfaction of scoring a hit, but then the bridge swung the ironclad to port to allow her broadside to bear. As she did so, once again disaster struck. Rod knew immediately that another gun had been hit on the muzzle. It seemed incredible that they should have been so unlucky, or that the Federal shooting could have been so accurate. But once more there were screams from dying men, and flames to be put out, and a temporary cessation of fire before he got things under control. But all the confidence had now drained from the gunners; they felt they were just as vulnerable down here as on a wooden ship. Fortunately, theMinnesotahad also suffered severe damage, and was withdrawing faster than theVirginia could steam.

  ‘Cease firing,’ came the command from the bridge, and the roar of the guns died. Now the creaking of the timbers and the moans of the wounded and dying took over.

  Rod wiped the back of his hand across his forehead to remove the sweat, and looked at his gunners. They were unsure whether they had won or lost, and he hastened to reassure them. ‘We’ve sunk two Federal ships,’ he said. ‘That has to be a great victory. Now let’s get this deck cleaned up, and see what we can do about those poor wounded fellows. I’ll be with you in a moment.’

  He climbed the ladder to the bridge to report and receive his orders, and found a shambles. A ball had ploughed right through the control platform, killing several men, while amongst the wounded was Buchanan himself. The Captain did not appear to be seriously hurt, but had lost a lot of blood and was in considerable pain; he had handed over command to Lieutenant Jones.

  Who listened to Rod’s report with concern, and then looked at the setting sun. ‘I think we will break off the action for tonight, Mr Bascom,’ he decided. ‘We have done enough for glory, and it will soon be dark, and there is all the time in the world for us to deal with theMinnesota and the rest of the Union squadron tomorrow, if they are still here. Now we have our dead to bury, our wounded to be seen to, and our repairs to make.’

  Rod looked out of the shattered windows. His instincts told him that they should continue the battle, even in darkness. Yet they had certainly gained the day, and who could doubt that tomorrow would be similarly successful? TheCongresscontinued to burn. TheMinnesota had withdrawn out of range, already badly damaged; she was clearly not anxious to suffer the fate of her sisters. But how could she not, tomorrow, he thought? Except, as Jones had suggested, by flight. It was only slowly dawning on him that he had been present at an epoch-making event, when an ironclad warship had first gone into action, and spelt the death knell of all wooden warships. It made his blood tingle, at the same time as it made him profoundly depressed, because where would seamanship and tradition be now, if any hastily put-together piece of scrap iron could so easily make herself mistress of the seas? These inland seas, at any rate.

  But that they had won the greatest victory of the war could not be doubted. He looked at Buchanan, and the Captain smiled through his pain. ‘We have done it, Rod,’ he said. ‘The Confederacy is saved.’

  *

  TheVirginia withdrew to the southern side of the Roads, and there anchored for the night. Captain Buchanan and the dead and wounded, twenty-one in all, were taken ashore, Lieutenant Jones being left in command. By now Buchanan realised that he would not be fit to take his ship into battle tomorrow, which was an enormous disappointment, but as both Rod and Jones reassured him, it was merely a matter of cleaning up the success he had already achieved.

  Then the crew settled down to work in earnest, patching up the various holes shot in the funnel to the best of their ability, removing the two shattered Dahlgren guns, and endeavouring to restore the confidence of the pilot, who had been powerfully affected by the accuracy and rapidity of the Federal fire. It was close to midnight before anyone got any sleep, and then they were immediately awakened again as theCongress, still at anchor, blew up, showering flaming debris over a huge area.

  Dawn revealed a scene of devastation, with theCumberlandhalf visible as she lay beneath the shallow waves, theCongressmerely marked by blackened floating timbers, and theMinnesota, whether because of the damage she had suffered or the ineptness of her crew, managing to have run aground on one of the many shoals that marked the harbour. The rest of the Federal fleet, to their surprise, still lay at anchor. ‘Well,’ Jones said, ‘if that’s the way they want it — it’ll be like shelling peas. Shall we get under way, Mr Bascom?’

  ‘Aye-aye,’ Rod agreed, and went below, where his gun
crews, having also observed the limited forces left to face them, were again confident. ‘But we’ll conserve our shot, boys, until we can’t miss,’ he reminded them; they had fired with such a will the previous afternoon that he was short of both powder and ball, although he did not doubt there was sufficient to destroy the rest of the Federal fleet. Then he returned to the bridge to be with Jones as the ironclad steamed out into the Roads, even more slowly than yesterday, because despite the crew’s efforts, steam was still leaking through the shot-riddled funnel, and the drawing power of her boiler was thereby reduced.

  ‘We’ll finish off theMinnesota, first, I think,’ Jones decided. ‘With her out of the way the others will present no problem.’

  ‘We will have to be careful, sir,’ the pilot protested. ‘That is an extensive shoal. If we approach too closely we may well strand ourselves.’

  ‘You mean you don’t want to get within range of her guns, you rascal,’ Jones remarked. ‘Well, we will have to. But only a few minutes should ... what in the name of God is that?’

  Rod stared at the most remarkable apparition he had ever seen, just emerging from behind the shelter of the strandedMinnesota. For a moment, indeed, he supposed he was looking at some kind of sea monster, but an inspection through his binoculars revealed that it was actually a ship, although anything less like a conventional vessel would have been hard to imagine. All that was really visible was a huge round turret, from which there protruded the muzzles of two immense cannon, hardly less than eleven-inch, he estimated, while some distance away, also appearing to rise straight out of the water, was a smaller turret, clearly a control room. Aft of the main turret was the funnel, from which black smoke was issuing, and right aft again there was the jackstaff, from which flew the Union flag. The whole was obviously resting on a hull so low it was virtually lost beneath the water — presumably down there was the engine, but the strange ship was clearly so shallow-drafted that she could come right across the sandbank on which theMinnesota lay, towards the Confederate battleship.