The Monitor and Merrimac 'BY AN EYE-WITNESS.' (1862)

Source: Pacific Commercial Advertiser. Honolulu: June 5, 1862

Originally published in The Friend (Samuel C. Damon, Editor). Honolulu: June 2, 1862.

[From The Friend.]

The Monitor and Merrimac.

BY AN EYE-WITNESS.

We take great pleasure in laying before our readers the following graphic sketch of the great naval battle between the Monitor and Merrimac. It has never before been published, having been written by an eyewitness, and communicated in a letter to a kind friend, who has furnished it at our solicitation. It was not intended for publication. We are confident our readers will peruse this letter with much interest. It is an event of the civil war in America, which seems destined to revolutionize all the navies of the world—place all the nations of earth upon a common level. All must now begin, to build anew their navies. As it has been forcibly remarked, "The Monitor, in one day, battered down the navies of the globe." They lay at the mercy of her guns. This shows the conquering power of a new idea. It is, after all, true, that mind rules the world. An idea of Ericsson—the native of Sweden, and the adopted son of America—now "rules the sea," and is "Mistress of the Ocean":

Camp Butler—Newport News. 

I suppose you have heard of the naval engagement, off this place, between our men-of-war and the iron-clad steamer Merrimac, but as some of the accounts in the papers were not exactly as it happened, I will just give you an eye-witness-description of it. 

It commenced about 1 o'clock on Saturday, the 8th March. 1 had just sat down to write when the long roll beat, and the men all rushed to arms. I went down to my gun on the battery to see the cause of the alarm. I did not have to look long, for down the river, towards Norfolk, I saw three rebel gun-boats coming up; in advance of these was something that looked like a roof of a house, with a chimney in the center. We all knew in an instant what it was, and the cry "the Merrimac is coming" passed through the whole camp. A very formidable appearance she presented to us, and we knew we had got some fighting to do to get rid of her. 

As soon as she got within range of the guns of the frigate Congress, that frigate opened on her, as well as the battery here; but the Merrimac took no notice of the shot, although they were falling like hail, and kept steadily on till abreast of the Congress, when she opened her ports and poured a broadside into her, with terrible effect. The Congress then returned the broadside directly down on the Merrimac, but with still no visible effect, and the shot only rattled down like so many marbles. The Merrimac then kept on for the Cumberland, which lay a short distance from the Congress; it was now a perfect thunder of cannon, for the Congress, Cumberland, and our battery, were raining solid shot on the Merrimac —still she kept on for the Cumberland, running presently into her starboard bow, and at the same time firing a broadside into her, which made an awful slaughter. One ball from the Merrimac killed sixteen men at one gun. The Cumberland immediately returned a broadside of 120-lb. solid shot, the Merrimac being close to the muzzles of the guns; it only had the effect of dismounting the only gun they had in sight, and cutting away two of her flag-staffs. The Cumberland now began to settle slowly, but still kept firing. The commander of the Merrimac now asked the commander of the Cumberland if he would surrender. " No, never," said that gallant commander, but still kept on firing. As she began to go down faster, the commander was again asked if he was ready to surrender. " No," said be, "I will go down with my colors flying" —and so he did. 

Until the water was knee-deep on the gun-deck, the Cumberland kept up her firing, and finally sunk, carrying over a hundred brave and loyal men to a watery grave. It was a terrible sight to us to see this noble vessel disappearing from our sight; not a sound was heard on shore as she made her final plunge in the river she had so faithfully guarded—even the cannon ceased their thunder for a few minuted, and the "stillness of death was here." 

Just before the poor Cumberland went down, the Congress slipped her cables and ran ashore on the point about half a mile below here. Both of our vessels being now out of the way, three more gun-boats came down the river from Richmond. 

The Merrimac next commenced to shell our camp, but being so near, she did not do much harm, her shot passing over us. She then ran down to where the Congress was ashore, and was joined by the other six rebel gun-boats. The Congress fired a few shots in return, and then hoisting the white flag, surrendered. 

One of the gun-boats came up to take the crew prisoners, but were kept off by the boys on shore, who fired with their rifles—so the Rebels only succeeded in taking a very few. 

The Merrimac, and all the gun-boats, commenced shelling the camp, the shot and shell whistling over us and crashing among the trees of the forest, and occasionally smashing our tents and exploding near us; but the night soon came on, the firing ceased, and the boats ran up to Norfolk to wait till morning, when they intended to return, capture the Minnesota and other vessels of war, shell us out, and land a force to hold this post. They would have done it too if Ericsson's floating battery, the Monitor, had not arrived during the night. 

As soon as it was dark, the flames broke through the deck of the Congress (she had been on fire below some time,) and mounted the masts and rigging of the doomed frigate, and she was soon enveloped in flames from stem to stern, which cast a lurid glare over the water and on the camp. She lay broadside to the camp. About 8 P. M. the fire began to affect the guns, which were loaded. It was a fearful, yet grand, sight to see that noble vessel blazing like a huge pyramid, to hear the booming of the bursting guns and have the balls whizzing over our heads, fired by no mortal hand. One of the shot struck a schooner and sunk her near to our wharf. We went to sleep in the midst of this sublime scene, with the shot still flying over us. At 1 o'clock, every man in camp was startled by the explosion of the magazine; it shook the ground like an earthquake; the whole firmament was filled by the burning splinters and sparks of fire. 

Sunday, the 9th, was as beautiful a day as ever dawned on this troubled Union. We were up at daylight, to see the re-commencement of the fight. At 8 o'clock, the Merrimac, Patrick Henry and Yorktown, came down from Norfolk to engage and take the Minnesota, which lay aground off here; but when the Merrimac got within three miles, the Monitor came out from behind her and bore directly for the Merrimac —the other two rebel boats ran off. The Rebels were very much surprised to see the Monitor; they neither knew where it came from, or what it was. The Rebels fired the first shot, and thus opened the engagement. The Monitor engaged the Merrimac, and it was a novel sight to see these two ironclad steamers firing upon each other without serious damage to either, and all this time not a man could be seen on either vessel. After five hours firing, the Monitor drove off the Merrimac, with some considerable damage. While they were fighting on the river, the long roll beat in the camp, for the Rebels had come down by land to within three miles of us. They were sent to cut us off in our retreat when the Merrimac should have driven us out. It was a well contrived plan, and came very near being successful. Had the Monitor been delayed a few hours, we should not now be at Newport News. 

SETH W. PATY.