"It is better to sink than to yield !"
And the whole air pealed

With the cheers of our men.

Then, like a kraken huge and black,
She crushed our ribs in her iron grasp !
Down went the Cumberland all a wrack,
With a sudden shudder of death,

And the cannon's breath

For her dying gasp.

Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay,
Still floated our flag at the mainmast head.
Lord, how beautiful was Thy day!

Every waft of the air

Was a whisper of prayer,
Or a dirge for the dead.

Ho! brave hearts that went down in the seas!

Ye are at peace in the troubled stream;
Ho! brave land! with hearts like these,

Thy flag, that is rent in twain,

Shall be one again,

And without a seam !

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Poetical Works (Boston, 1867), 330.

109. The Monitor and the Merrimac (1862)

BY MEDICAL-DIRECTOR CHARLES MARTIN (1886)

Martin was a surgeon in the navy, and rose to the rank of medical director. This extract is from a paper of personal reminiscences read before the New York Commandery of the Loyal Legion in 1886. — Bibliography as in No. 108 above.

COME

OMPANIONS: I will tell you what I saw at Newport News when the Merrimac destroyed the Congress and the Cumberland, and fought with the Monitor. It was a drama in three acts, and twelve hours will elapse between the second and third acts.

"Let us begin at the beginning" — 1861. The North Atlantic squadron is at Hampton Roads, except the frigate Congress and the

razee Cumberland; they are anchored at Newport News, blockading the James River and Norfolk. The Merrimac, the Rebel ram, is in the dry dock of the Norfolk navy-yard. . . .

The Monitor is building in New York City. . . . It is determined to keep the Merrimac in the dry dock, wait the arrival of the Monitor, send her out to meet her, and in the action it is positive that an opportunity will offer to pierce and sink her. The ram is a terror, and both sides say, "When the Merrimac comes out!" The last of February, 1862, the Monitor is ready for sea; she will sail for Hampton Roads in charge of a steamer. There is a rumor that she has broken her steering gear before reaching Sandy Hook. She will be towed to Washington for repairs. The Rebel spies report her a failure steering defective, turret revolves with difficulty, and when the smoke of her guns in action is added to the defects of ventilation, it will be impossible for human beings to live aboard of her. No Monitor to fight, the Southern press and people grumble; they pitch into the Merrimac. Why does she lie idle? Send her out to destroy the Congress and the Cumberland, that have so long bullied Norfolk, then sweep away the fleet at Hampton Roads, starve out Fortress Monroe, go north to Baltimore and New York and Boston, and destroy and plunder; and the voice of the people, not always an inspiration, prevails, and the ram is floated and manned and armed, and March 8th is bright and sunny when she steams down the Elizabeth River to carry out the first part of her programme. And all Norfolk and Portsmouth ride and run to the bank of the James, to have a picnic, and assist at a naval battle and victory. The cry of "Wolf!" has so often been heard aboard the ships that the Merrimac has lost much of her terrors. They argue: "If she is a success, why don't she come out and destroy us?" And when seen this morning at the mouth of the river: "It is only a trial trip or a demonstration." But she creeps along the opposite shore, and both ships beat to quarters and get ready for action. The boats of the Cumberland are lowered, made fast to each other in line, anchored between the ship and the shore, about an eighth of a mile distant.

Here are two large sailing frigates, on a calm day, at slack water, anchored in a narrow channel, impossible to get under weigh and manœuvre, and must lie and hammer, and be hammered, so long as they hold together, or until they sink at their anchors. To help them is a tug, the Zouave, once used in the basin at Albany to tow canal boats under the grain elevator. The Congress is the senior ship; the tug makes fast

to her. The Congress slips her cable and tries to get under weigh. The tug does her best and breaks her engine. The Congress goes aground in line with the shore. The Zouave floats down the river, firing her popguns at the Merrimac as she drifts by her. The captain of the Congress was detached on the 7th. He is waiting a chance to go North. He serves as a volunteer in the action, refusing to resume command and deprive the first lieutenant of a chance for glory. The captain of the Cumberland has been absent since the 3d. He is president of a courtmartial at this moment in session on board the Roanoke at Hampton Roads, so the command of both the ships devolves on the first lieutenants. On board the Cumberland all hands are allowed to remain on deck, watching the slow approach of the Merrimac, and she comes on so slowly, the pilot declares she has missed the channel; she draws too much water to use her ram. She continues to advance, and two gun-boats, the Yorktown and the Teazer, accompany her. Again they beat to quarters, and every one goes to his station. There is a platform on the roof of the Merrimac. Her captain is standing on it. When she is near enough, he hails, "Do you surrender?" "Never!" is the reply. The order to fire is given; the shot of the starboard battery rattles on the iron roof of the Merrimac. She answers with a shell; it sweeps the forward pivot gun, it kills and wounds ten of the gun's crew. A second slaughters the marines at the after pivot gun. The Yorktown and the Teazer keep up a constant fire. She bears down on the Cumberland. She rams her just aft the starboard bow. The ram goes into the sides of the ship as a knife goes into a cheese. The Merrimac tries to back out; the tide is making; it catches against her great length at a right angle with the Cumberland; it slews her around; the weakened, lengthened ram breaks off; she leaves it in the Cumberland. The battle rages,

broadside answers broadside, and the sanded deck is red and slippery with the blood of the wounded and dying; they are dragged amidships out of the way of the guns; there is no one and no time to take them below. Delirium seizes the crew; they strip to their trousers, tie their handkerchiefs round their heads, kick off their shoes, fight and yell like demons, load and fire at will, keep it up for the rest of the forty-two minutes the ship is sinking, and fire a last gun as the water rushes into her ports...

The Merrimac turns to the Congress. She is aground, but she fires her guns till the red-hot shot from the enemy sets her on fire, and the flames drive the men away from the battery. She has forty years of

e;

seasoning; she burns like a torch. Her commanding officer is killed, and her deck strewn with killed and wounded. The wind is off shore they drag the wounded under the windward bulwark, where all hands take refuge from the flames. The sharpshooters on shore drive away a tug from the enemy. The crew and wounded of the Congress are safely landed. She burns the rest of the afternoon and evening, discharging her loaded guns over the camp. At midnight the fire has reached her magazines the Congress disappears.

When it is signalled to the fleet at Hampton Roads that the Merrimac has come out, the Minnesota leaves her anchorage and hastens to join the battle. Her pilot puts her aground off the Elizabeth River, and she lies there helpless. The Merrimac has turned back for Norfolk. She has suffered from the shot of the Congress and the Cumberland, or she would stop and destroy the Minnesota; instead, with the Yorktown and Teazer, she goes back into the river. Sunday morning, March 9th, the Merrimac is coming out to finish her work. She will destroy the Minnesota. As she nears her, the Monitor appears from behind the helpless ship; she has slipped in during the night, and so quietly, her presence is unknown in the camp. And David goes out to meet Goliath, and every man who can walk to the beach sits down there, spectators of the first iron-clad battle in the world. The day is calm, the smoke hangs thick on the water, the low vessels are hidden by the smoke. They are so sure of their invulnerability, they fight at arms' length. They fight so near the shore, the flash of their guns is seen, and the noise is heard of the heavy shot pounding the armor. They haul out for breath, and again disappear in the smoke. The Merrimac stops firing, the smoke lifts, she is running down the Monitor, but she has left her ram in the Cumberland. The Monitor slips away, turns, and renews the action. One P.M.—they have fought since 8:30 A.M.: The crews of both ships are suffocating under the armor. The frames supporting the iron roof of the Merrimac are sprung and shattered. The turret of the Monitor is dented with shot, and is revolved with difficulty. The captain of the Merrimac is wounded in the leg; the captain of the Monitor is blinded with powder. It is a drawn game. The Merrimac, leaking badly, goes back to Norfolk; the Monitor returns to Hampton Roads.

Personal Recollections of the War of the Rebellion, Second Series (edited by A. Noel Blakeman, New York, etc., 1897), 1-6 passim.

110. Pittsburg Landing (1862)

BY BRIGADIER-GENERAL BENJAMIN MAYBERRY PRENTISS

Prentiss was a volunteer officer, and at the battle of Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh, he commanded one of the divisions of Grant's army. This extract is from his official report. It is now very generally recognized that the valiant and stubborn defence by the divisions of Prentiss and W. H. L. Wallace prevented the Confederate army from attaining a victory on the first day, and made possible the Union victory on the second day of the battle. - Bibliography as in No. 107 above.

T 3 o'clock on the morning of Sunday, April 6, Col. David Moore, Twenty-first Missouri, with five companies of his infantry regiment, proceeded to the front, and at break of day the advance pickets were driven in, whereupon Colonel Moore pushed forward and engaged the enemy's advance, commanded by General Hardee. At this stage a messenger was sent to my headquarters, calling for the balance of the Twenty-first Missouri, which was promptly sent forward. This information received, I at once ordered the entire force into line, and the remaining regiments of the First Brigade, commanded by Col. Everett Peabody, consisting of the Twenty-fifth Missouri, Sixteenth Wisconsin, and Twelfth Michigan Infantry, were advanced well to the front. forthwith at this juncture communicated the fact of the attack in force to Major-General Smith and Brig. Gen. S. A. Hurlbut.

Shortly before 6 o'clock, Col. David Moore having been severely wounded, his regiment commenced falling back, reaching our front line at about 6 o'clock, the enemy being close upon his rear. Hereupon the entire force, excepting only the Sixteenth Iowa, which had been sent to the field the day previous without ammunition, and the cavalry, which was held in readiness to the rear, was advanced to the extreme front, and thrown out alternately to the right and left.

Shortly after 6 o'clock the entire line was under fire, receiving the assault made by the entire force of the enemy, advancing in three columns simultaneously upon our left, center, and right. This position was held until the enemy had passed our right flank, this movement being effected by reason of the falling back of some regiment to our right not belonging to the division.

Perceiving the enemy was flanking me, I ordered the division to retire in line of battle to the color line of our encampment, at the same time communicating to Generals Smith and Hurlbut the fact of the falling back, and asking for re-enforcements.