Part 66 (1/2)
The _Minnesota_, _Roanoke_ and _St. Lawrence_, in trying to reach the scene of the battle, had all been grounded. The _Minnesota_ was still lying helpless in the mud as the sun set and the new monarch of the seas slowly withdrew to Sewell's Point to overhaul her machinery and prepare to finish her work next day.
The _Merrimac_ had lost twenty-one killed and wounded--among the wounded was her gallant flag officer, Franklin Buchanan. The _Patrick Henry_ had lost fourteen, the _Beaufort_ eight, the _Raleigh_ seven, including two officers.
The Federal squadron had lost two s.h.i.+ps and four hundred men.
But by far the greatest loss to the United States Navy was the supremacy of the seas. The power of her fleets had been smashed at a blow. The ugly, black, powder-stained, iron thing lying under the guns of Sewell's Point had won the crown of the world's naval supremacy. The fleets of the United States were practically out of commission while she was afloat. The panic at the North which followed the startling news from Hampton Roads was indescribable. Abraham Lincoln hastily called a Cabinet meeting to consider what action it was necessary to take to meet the now appalling situation. Never before had any man in authority at Was.h.i.+ngton realized how absolute was their dependence on the United States Navy--how impossible it would be to maintain the Government without its power.
Edwin M. Stanton, the indefatigable Secretary of War, completely lost his nerve at this Cabinet meeting. He paced the floor with quick excited tread, glancing out of the window of the White House toward the waters of the Potomac with undisguised fear.
”I am sure, gentlemen,” he said to the Cabinet, ”that monster is now on her way to Was.h.i.+ngton. In my opinion we will have a sh.e.l.l from one of her big guns in the White House before we leave this room!”
Lincoln was profoundly depressed but refused to believe the cause of the Union could thus be completely lost at a single blow from a nondescript, iron raft. Yet it was only too easy to see that the moral effect of this victory would be crus.h.i.+ng on public opinion.
The wires to Was.h.i.+ngton were hot with frantic calls for help. New York was ready to surrender at the first demand. So utter was the demoralization at Fortress Monroe, the one absolutely impregnable fort on the Atlantic coast, that the commander had already determined to surrender in answer to the first shot the _Merrimac_ should fire.
The preparations for moving McClellan's army to the Virginia Peninsula for the campaign to capture Richmond were suddenly halted. Two hundred thousand men must rest on their arms until this crisis should pa.s.s. All orders issued to the Army of the Potomac were now made contingent on the destruction of the iron monster lying in Hampton Roads.
By one of the strangest coincidences in history the United States Navy had completed an experiment in floating iron at precisely the same moment.
While the guns of the battle were yet echoing over the waters of the harbor, this strange little craft, a floating iron cheese box, was slowly steaming into the Virginia capes.
At nine o'clock that night Ericsson's _Monitor_ was beside the panic-stricken _Roanoke_.
When C. S. Bushnell took the model of this strange craft to Was.h.i.+ngton, he was referred to Commander C. H. Davis by the Naval Board. When Davis had examined it he handed it back to Bushnell with a pitying smile:
”Take the little thing home, and wors.h.i.+p it. It would not be idolatry, because it's made in the image of nothing in the heaven above or the earth beneath or in the waters under the earth.”
Wiser councils had prevailed, and the floating cheese box was completed and arrived in Hampton Roads in time to put its powers to supreme test.
The _Merrimac's_ crew ate their breakfast at their leisure and prepared to drive their ugly duckling into the battle line again and finish the work of destroying the battered Federal squadron.
The _Merrimac_ had fought the battle of the day before under the constant pounding of more than one hundred guns bearing on her iron sides. Her armor was intact. Two of her guns were disabled by having their muzzles shot off. Her nose had been torn off and sank with the _c.u.mberland_. One anchor, her smoke stacks and steam pipes were shot away. Every sc.r.a.p of her railing, stanchions, and boat davits had been swept clean. Her flag staff was gone and a boarding pike had been set up in its place.
With stern faces, and absolutely sure of victory, her crew swung her into the stream, crowded on full steam and moved down on the _Minnesota_.
Close under the s.h.i.+p's side they saw for the first time the cheese box.
They had heard of the experiment of her building but knew nothing of her arrival.
Her insignificant size was a surprise and the big _Merrimac_ dashed at her with a sullen furious growl of her big guns. The game little bulldog swung out from the _Minnesota_ and made straight for the onrus.h.i.+ng monster.
The flotilla of gunboats had been signaled to retire and watch the duel.
From the big eleven-inch guns of the _Monitor_ shot after shot was hurled against the slanting armored walls of the _Merrimac_.
Broadside after broadside poured from her guns against the iron-clad tower of the _Monitor_.
The _Merrimac_, drawing twenty feet of water, was slow and difficult to handle. The game little _Monitor_ drew but twelve feet and required no maneuvering. Her tower revolved. She could stand and fight in one spot all day.
The big black hull of the _Merrimac_ bore down on the _Monitor_ now to ram and sink her at a blow. The nimble craft side stepped the avalanche of iron, turned quickly and attempted to jamb her nose into the steering gear of the Southerner--but in vain.