|
The clouds now began to separate, a moon of about half size
beamed out upon the sea, and the Rhode Island, now a
mile away, became visible. Signals were being exchanged, and
I felt that the Monitor would be saved, or at least that
the captain would not leave his ship until there was no hope
of saving her. I was sent below again to see how the water stood
in the ward-room. I went forward to the cabin and found the
water just above the soles of my shoes, which indicated that
there must be more than a foot in the vessel. I reported this
to the captain, and all hands were set to baling, -baling out
the ocean, as it seemed, - but the object was to employ the
men, as there now seemed to be danger of excitement among them.
I kept employed most of the time taking the buckets from through
the hatchway on top of the turret. They seldom would have more
than a pint of water in them, however, the balance having been
spilled out in passing from one man to another.
 |
The
Wreck of the USS Monitor.
From the Collections of The Mariners' Museum |
The weather was clear, but the sea did not cease rolling in
the least, and the Rhode Island with the two lines wound
up in her wheel, was tossing at the mercy of the sea, and came
drifting against our sides. A boat that had been lowered was
caught between the vessels and crushed and lost. Some of our
seamen bravely leaped down on deck to guard our sides, and lines
were thrown to them from the deck of the Rhode Island,
which now lay her whole length against us, floating off astern;
but not a man would be the first to leave his ship, although
the captain gave orders to do so. I was again sent to examine
the water in the ward-room, which I found to be more than two
feet above the deck; and I think I was the last person who saw
Engineer S.A. Lewis as he lay seasick in his bunk, apparently
watching the water as it grew deeper and deeper, and aware what
his fate must be. He called me as I passed his door, and asked
if the pumps were working. I replied that they were. "Is there
any hope?" he asked; and feeling a little moved at the scene,
and knowing certainly what must be his end, and the darkness
that stared at us all, I replied, "As long as there is life
there is hope." "Hope and hang on when you are wrecked," is
an old saying among sailors. I left the ward-room, and learned
that the water had gained so as to choke up the main pump. As
I was crossing the berth-deck I saw our ensign, Mr. Fredrickson,
hand a watch to Master's Mate Williams, saying, "Here, this
is yours; I may be lost." The watch and chain were both of unusual
value. Williams received them into his hand, then with a hesitating
glance at the time-piece said, "This thing may be the means
of sinking me," and threw it upon the deck. There were three
or four cabin-boys pale and prostrate with seasickness, and
the cabin cook, an old African negro, under great excitement,
was scolding them most profanely.
As I ascended the turret ladder the sea broke over the ship,
and came pouring down the hatchway with so much force that it
took me off my feet; and at the same time the steam broke from
the boiler-room, as the water had reached the fires, and for
an instant I seemed to realize that we had gone down. Our fires
were out, and I heard the water blowing out of the boilers.
I reported my observations to the captain, and at the same time
saw a boat alongside. The captain again gave orders for the
men to leave the ship, and fifteen, all of whom were seamen
and men whom I had placed my confidence upon, were the ones
who crowded the first boat to leave the ship. I was disgusted
at witnessing the scramble, and not feeling in the least alarmed
about myself, resolved that I, an "old haymaker," as landsmen
are called, would stick to the ship as long as my officers.
I saw three of these men swept from the deck and carried leeward
on the swift current.
Bailing was now resumed. I occupied the turret all alone, and
passed buckets from the lower hatchway to the man on the top
of the turret. I took off my coat - one that I had received
from home only a few days before (I could not feel that our
noble little ship was yet lost) - and rolling it up with my
boots, drew the tampion from one of the guns, placed them inside,
and replaced the tampion. A black cat was sitting on the breech
of one of the guns, howling one of those hoarse and solemn tunes
which no one can appreciate who is not filled with the superstitions
which I had been taught by the sailors, who are always afraid
to kill a cat. I would almost as soon have touched a ghost,
but I caught her, and placing her in another gun, replaced the
wad and tampion; but I could still hear that distressing yowl.
As I raised my last bucket to the upper hatchway no one was
there to take it. I scrambled up the ladder and found that we
below had been deserted. I shouted to those on the berth-deck,
"Come up; the officers have left the ship and a boat is alongside."
As I reached the top of the turret I saw a boat made fast on
the weather quarter filled with men. Three others were standing
on deck trying to get on board. One man was floating leeward,
shouting in vain for help; another, who hurriedly passed me
and jumped down from the turret, was swept off by a breaking
wave and never rose. I was excited, feeling that it was the
only chance to be saved. I made a loose line fast to one of
the stanchions, and let myself down from the turret, the ladder
having been washed away. The moment I struck the deck the sea
broke over it and swept me as I had seen it sweep my shipmates.
I grasped one of the smoke-stack braces and, hand-over-hand,
ascended to keep my head above water. It required all my strength
to keep the sea from tearing me away. As it swept from the vessel
I found myself dangling in the air nearly at the top of the
smoke-stack. I let myself fall, and succeeded in reaching a
life-line that encircled the deck by means of short stanchions,
and to which the boat was attached. The sea again broke over
us, lifting me feet upward as I still clung to the life-line.
I thought I had nearly measured the depth of the ocean, when
I felt the turn, and as my head rose above the water I was somewhat
dazed from being so nearly drowned, and spouted up, it seemed,
more than a gallon of water that had found its way into my lungs.
I was then about twenty feet from the other men, whom I found
to be the captain and one seaman, the other had been washed
overboard and was now struggling in the water. The men in the
boat were pushing back on their oars to keep the boat from being
washed on to the Monitor's deck, so that the boat had
to be hauled in by the painter about ten or twelve feet. The
first lieutenant, S. D. Greene, and other officers in the boat,
were shouting, "Is the captain on board?" and, with severe struggles
to have our voices heard above the roar of the wind and sea,
we were shouting "No," and trying to haul in the boat, which
we at last succeeded in doing. The captain, ever caring for
his men, requested us to get in, but we both, in the same voice,
told him to get in first. The moment he was over the bows of
the boat Lieutenant Greene cried, "Cut the painter! Cut the
painter!" I thought, "Now or lost," and in less time than I
can explain it, exerting my strength beyond imagination, I hauled
in the boat, sprang, caught on the gunwale, was pulled into
the boat with a boar-hook in the hands of one of the men, and
took my seat with one of the oarsmen. The other man, named Thomas
Joice, managed to get into the boat in some way, I cannot tell
how, and he was the last man saved from that ill-fated ship.
As we were cut loose I saw several men standing on top of the
turret, apparently afraid to venture down upon deck, and it
may have been that they were deterred by seeing others washed
overboard while I was getting into the boat.
page
1 | page 2 | page 3
Go to Main Category:
The Monitor from the James River to Cape Hatteras:
May-December, 1862
Go to other documents in this category:
Battle at Drewery's Bluff
Chronology of Sinking
|
![[ Navigation Bar ]](../../resources/navigation.gif){kind=small}