A Thousand Words a Battle: Hampton Roads
USS Monitor Versus the CSS Virginia, Hampton Roads, Virginia
March 9, 1862
The dusk-dappled surface of Hampton Roads reflected Union blue sky, placidly intermingling with Rebel gray clouds even as a manmade storm was brewing on the waters. John Emmet O’Brien, 13 years old, was stationed at Fort Monroe with his older brother, Richard; both were Union telegraphers. They had seen the revolutionary Confederate ironclad CSS Virginia (ex USS Merrimack aka Merrimac) destroy two Union warships, USS Cumberland and USS Congress. The USS Minnesota, one of the mightiest ships in the U. S. Navy, remained stuck in the middle of the Roads, damaged and helpless. The brothers knew Virginia would be back the next day to finish the job.
Then the USS Monitor arrived.
John O’Brien’s memoir recounts their observations that fateful day:
On the evening of the first day’s fight, March 8th, Richard being at the instrument [telegraph], I stood on the ramparts at Fort Monroe watching the flames of the frigate Congress still blazing near Newport News, thinking of the poor fellows who had gone down in the Cumberland firing their last broadside as she was going down; and wondering whether our cousin, Richard Mullin, who had been of the crew of the Congress had escaped, when about 10 p.m. I saw the dim outline of a queer, barge-like craft come into the Roads. I hurried to headquarters and found Richard sending this dispatch:
“To Brigadier-General Mansfield, Newport News: The ironclad Ericsson battery Monitor has arrived and will proceed to take care of the Merrimac in the morning. John E. Wool, Major-General Commanding.”
On the morning of the 9th, the alarm gun and long roll again announced the appearance of the smoke of the Merrimac behind Sewell’s Point, and Richard left me at the key to accompany General Wool up the beach for a nearer view of the impending battle of the ironclads, which I will let Richard, in a memorandum made at the time, describe:
“At 6 a.m., the Merrimac was seen steaming down the Elizabeth River. General Wool, having placed the fort in fighting trim, rode out with his staff through Camp Hamilton and the ruins of Hampton, to a point on the shore nearest the Minnesota, which was still aground. I accompanied the party. The Monitor . . . lay under the shadow of the Minnesota and seemed to us a feeble defense to lean upon, against the invincible monster which had made such short work of two of our finest warships the previous evening.
“When the Merrimac passed Sewell’s Point and turned towards the fort, we were about to hurry back to help receive her, but when near the Rip Raps [battery] she turned again and came straight for the Minnesota, which opened fire upon her. The Merrimac slowed up a moment, as if to make out what the strange little craft could be, when [Monitor] blazed away and solved the question for her. She quickly responded. They both ‘let slip the dogs of war,’ the rebel bull-dogs growling from every port-hole, and the little terrier of the North, more active than her unwieldy antagonist, snarling at every rib of the larger craft. The Monitor got around more quickly than the Merrimac and tried her sides, quarters and stern, but every shot that struck, glanced from the ‘greased rails’ into the air, with the scream of a baffled demon.
“The Merrimac fired rapidly and viciously, but seemed equally unable to injure her antagonist, and so turned her attention again to the Minnesota. The latter discharged a broadside at her without the slightest effect, and received in return a shell from the bow gun of the Merrimac, which burst in the officers’ quarters and set the ship on fire. Another shot struck the tugboat Dragon, which was engaged in trying to haul the Minnesota off [the shoal], passing through and bursting its boiler. A terrific fire was kept up by the Minnesota from every gun that could be brought to bear. A third shell passed over the Minnesota and burst unpleasantly near us.
Before she could fire again, the Monitor had gotten between the Merrimac and the Minnesota, forcing the former to change her base, in doing which she got aground, but soon swung off and headed for the Rip Raps, with the Monitor close at her heels. They had not gone far, however, when the Merrimac turned around suddenly and tried to run into the Monitor. The latter made a very narrow escape, the great prow of the Merrimac leaving an ugly scar on her iron armor.
They then pounded away at each other for some time, when the Monitor drew off towards the fort. We feared she had received serious injury. The Merrimac, with her consorts . . . now started towards the Minnesota, which we felt sure was doomed. They changed their course, however, for some unaccountable reason, and heading up the Elizabeth River, left us, for this day at least, masters of the situation.”
And so the Merrimac went back, and the first battle of the ironclads passed into history—a drawn battle.[1]
— Dwight Sturtevant Hughes
[1] John Emmet O’Brien, Telegraphing in Battle: Reminiscences of the Civil War (Wilkes-Barre, Pa, 1910), 65-69.
