Tag Archives: CSS Chicora

Fort Johnston Photo Analysis, Part V: Looking across the fort from the east… and maybe a Rebel Ram?

Our next stop on this look at Fort Johnson, as it was in 1865, takes a few steps around that 10-inch Rifled Columbiad and looks back at the face of the works from the east side:


I’ve labeled the location where this photo was taken as FJ4 in the diagram below:


You can see from the two green lines extending from the octagon, FJ4 offers a different perspective of the fort.   The view is slightly elevated.  Based on the perspective of the 10-inch Rifled Columbiad, the camera must have been over, or at least adjacent to, the 8-inch siege howitzer seen in FJ3.

As with many of these photos, there were duplicates made as part of a stereo view.  The Library of Congress has both digitized.  Here’s the second of the set, which is somewhat worse for the wear in some ways… yet more detailed in others:


There’s our old friend in the foreground.


One detail that stands out better in this view is the finish of the metal:


The cannon is in sharp focus, so what do we make of the scruffy looking finish here?  I think we are seeing brush lines from a coat of paint or lacquer applied to the metal.  We may also be seeing tarnish or rust over that finish.

Oh, and earlier I mentioned the missing truck wheels… well while snipping from the photo last night, I noticed for the first time….


So after removing the trucks, the Confederates laid them in the gun pit?  Or was this the first step as the Federals dismounted the gun for movement?  I’m still thinking the former.  The Federals never moved this weapon from Fort Johnson.  So why bother pulling off the truck wheels?  A small puzzle of the sort that prompts me to keep looking at these photos… hopefully you share that foible.

The negative is a bit damaged, but we can still see the details of the barrel placed beside the cannon:


Implements, such as this maneuvering bar, remain in place about the columbiad:


Looking behind at the walls of Fort Johnson, this view, more than the others, gives away the construction technique used for the earthworks:


Perhaps that is because this particular face was oriented towards the harbor mouth and thus caught more of the weather.

Looking down that line, this is the view that causes hearts to flutter over on the blackpowder artillery forum:


A Brooke Rifle, two Confederate columbiads, and three mortars. Wouldn’t you like to have those in your back yard?

And this guy “owned” them as of April 1865:


No sack coat.  Just his shirt, suspenders, trousers, and brogans.  Sleeves rolled up.  Must have been warm that spring day.

Looking beyond our friend at the Brooke, there is a team of horses and a sling cart.


Keep in mind the location of that sling cart.  It shows up in other photos.  I’d speculate that the sling cart was most recently employed to move one of the mortars now laying at the waterfront.


These have the distinctive profile of the 10-inch Seacoast Mortar, Model 1840.   No weapons of that type were in Fort Johnson when the Confederates left Charleston.  However, Battery Simkins, just southeast, had three.  So these could be the three mortars from Battery Simkins, which were very, very active against the Federals on Morris Island during the siege of Charleston.

To the right of the mortars are a couple of large beams.


These show up in the perspective of FJ5, which I’ll look at next.  So these are important placemarks in the photo. Otherwise, it is a stack of wood… very large pieces of wood.

But let’s look beyond those mortars and wood beams to see what is in Charleston Harbor:


No vessels waiting in the “roads.” But there is what appears to be a smoke stack and debris.  So what is that?

When the Confederates left Charelston, a number of vessels were scuttled or left derelict.  Three ironclads were scuttled in the direct vicinity of Fort Johnson – CSS Palmetto State, CSS Charleston, and CSS Chicora.   Of the three, the Chicora lay closest to Fort Johnson’s wharf and jetty.   Describing that wreck, Rear-Admiral John Dahlgren wrote, “The Chicora alone is visible in any part, and that only a few inches of the casemate at low water.”  I think it is safe to assume that if the casemate was barely at water level, the smokestack was above water.  The Coast Survey team did not annotate the location of the Confederate ironclads on their survey of the harbor.  So we cannot put a name on that wreck, at least to satisfy my standards.  But the smokstack is in the right place to be the remains of the Chicora.

Looking beyond that interesting wreckage, we see the distant shoreline.


This should be parts of Charleston proper and the inner harbor.  But the lens did not capture many details.  At some points on the horizon, we can just make out buildings and piers:


But as you can tell from the small size of this cropped area, the digitized copy degrades to pixels as we zoom down further.   Disappointing, as that would be another interesting study.

Let me close out this stop by returning to our friend at the Brooke:


This gentleman posed like this for at least a couple of moments, knowing his image would be captured on glass plate.  He knew that the photographer was recording him, standing in front of those Confederate guns, as a small testament to the triumph of Federal arms in the Civil War.  This isn’t a stiff, parade-ground pose.  His body is relaxed.  As mentioned above, his dress is very casual, more so that of one on a work detail than a guard or escort.   He has one hand tucked in the waist, and the other as a prop against the Brooke.

But I sense something stern about his facial expression.  Maybe it is the thought of hefting all those heavy mortars, as he marks time until the return home.  Or maybe he just wanted his “war face” preserved to impress those viewing his pose 150 years later.

Watching for an ironclad sortie at Charleston, Dahlgren hoped to “capture the whole”

With the fall of Savannah, attention in the Department of the South turned to Charleston.  Among some Federal leaders there was concern the Confederates might feel the situation desperate enough to try a “go for broke” attack.

Throughout late November and early December 1864, there was some concern of a Confederate boat attack on Morris Island, along the lines of that proposed by Brigadier-General Roswell Ripley. But when Brigadier-General Alexander Schimmelfennig returned from leave, he discounted such rumors.  Reporting to Major-General John Foster, he indicated all was routine around Charleston.  However, Schimmelfennig did direct repairs to defensive arrangements which had been neglected.  In particular on December 26, he directed “dry brush to be piled up in front of the forts and batteries on [Morris Island] where the ground admits, at a distance of from 200 to 300 yards.…”  This brush, placed out past musket distance from the fortifications, would be set on fire in the event of a Confederate attack.  The intent was, with the brush so far out in front of the works, for it to illuminate the ground directly in front of the works and leave the attackers silhouetted and easy targets.

At the same time, the Navy was concerned the Charleston Squadron, chiefly the ironclad rams CSS Charleston, CSS Palmetto State, CSS Columbia and CSS Chicora, would sortie out of Charleston in an attempt to break the blockade.  After all, the CSS Savannah was preparing to make just such a breakout when Savannah fell.  Shortly after Christmas, Captain Gustavus H. Scott, senior officer on the blockade outside Charleston, suggested to Rear-Admiral John Dahlgren that the Confederates were preparing for a breakout.  In response, Dahlgren took a break from matters at Hilton Head to visit the old front at Charleston.

Dahlgren felt secure the monitors on blockade duty at that time were sufficient to deal with the threat.  But he did remind the Navy Department that several of the monitors had been on station for quite some time.  That in mind, along with the growing possibility of an engagement, Dahlgren asked for replacements, “otherwise there is no small risk that one or two may become unserviceable.”

Coordinating with Schimmelfennig on December 29, Dahlgren downplayed any concerns:

Though I felt no apprehension as to the ability of the force here to maintain control of the anchorage, and even capture the rebel ironclads if they ventured out, yet, as I might be drawn in some other direction at the time, it seemed due to the perfect security of General Sherman’s base that no means should be omitted.  I have, therefore, reinforced the division, there are now seven monitors here, which I think places the question beyond doubt.

Seeking to coordinate for the contingency, Dahlgren related some of his thinking to the commander ashore:

In case the ironclads venture out, my plan will be to draw them as low down this anchorage as they will come, so as to make sure of the capture of the whole by making retreat impossible.

In such an event, will you please cause some of your heavy guns to be turned seaward, and scour the water with grape so as to clear out the torpedo boats which might be troublesome when engaged with the rams.

Having seen the defenses of Savannah up close, and concerned the Confederates might further improve the defenses of Charleston, Dahlgren added:

The rebels will, no doubt, endeavor to increase the obstructions in the harbor, and some grape or mortar shells at night from your guns near Johnson and the Middle Ground would stop them.  The naval battery will assist in this if you think proper.

After seeing the works about Savannah and the obstructions in the rivers (Savannah, Tybee, Vernon, and the Ogeechee), I am satisfied it was impregnable to any force in any direction save where it was assailed by General Sherman.

To Captain Scott, Dahlgren provided detailed contingency plans on December 31.  Scott was told to ensure the monitors and blockaders act in consort in the case of attack, and not as single units.  Particularly, Dahlgren wanted no monitors “separated from the main body before they can receive assistance.”  Altering the normal arrangements, Dahlgren specified that:

At night, if the weather is suitable, four monitors are to be pushed in advance, the other three in reserve at a convenient distance, and two of them may be allowed to draw fire under one boiler at a time to clean and repair, but even these vessels should be made available if an attack is made.

To counter torpedo boats and laying additional obstructions, Dahlgren called for alert picket boats (though without mention of a picket boat captured earlier in the month).  In the event of a torpedo boat attack, the monitors and the land batteries were to “scour the water with grape at intervals.”

In the event the ironclads moved out of the harbor, Dahlgren’s orders to Scott reflected the intentions voiced to Schimmelfennig:

It will be an object to draw them as much as possible under the fire of our land batteries, and to avoid exposing the monitors to their batteries…. The lower down the channel they can be drawn into action the less probable it will be that any escape.  If high up and beaten, they will find protection under their own batteries on Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina.

A sound plan.  But not one that would see a need. The Confederate squadron in Charleston was bottled up for similar reasons the Savannah Squadron had been doomed weeks before.

(Citations from OR, Series I, Volume 44, Serial 92, page 819; ORN Series I, Volume 16, pages 151-4.)

“One of the most daring events of the war…”: Salvaging the Keokuk’s Guns, Part 1

I’ve mentioned this gun on several occasions:

Charleston 4 May 10 060

XI-inch Dahlgren, Alger #235, from USS Keokuk

The gun stands guard today at Charleston’s White Point (Battery) Park. But its Civil War story ranks it among the most historic artillery pieces to survive the war. The gun was one of two XI-inch Dahlgrens on board the USS Keokuk at the time of the April 7, 1863 attack on Fort Sumter. In the engagement, nineteen Confederate shot pierced the Keokuk. She ran aground and sank in shallow water the following morning.

Both Federals and Confederates visited the wreck in the days after the battle. The Federals attempted to destroy the Keokuk – first using one of the remaining “Devils” then later by demolition charges. But the Keokuk filled with sand within days of sinking. The navy officers felt the ironclad, laying between the guns of Morris Island and the blockading fleet, was out of reach. However the Confederates began picking over the wreck when darkness provided cover, making off with flags, pennants, small arms, and equipment (and part of a signal-book washed up on Morris Island, to the immediate advantage of the Confederates). Although complete salvage of the Keokuk was out of the question, the wreck lay close enough to shore that several began eying the Dahlgrens.


As seen in the map above, the Keokuk lay about ¾ a mile (or 1300 yards) off Morris Island. Confederate engineers Major D.B. Harris, Major William Echols, and Lieutenant S. Cordes Boyleston made several surveys of the wreck. Harris described the wreck:

…her turrets within 4½ feet of their tops had been pierced by four 10-inch shot and one 7-inch rifle shot, and a wrought-iron Brooke bolt had penetrated seven-eights of its length and stuck in the iron plating. Several severe indentations were also observed, near the plates were warped and the bolts broken or started…. The vessel having sunk in 13 feet of water prevented an examination of the lower portions of her turrets or her hull, which no doubt were served in a like manner.

Echols made a drawing of the turret (which sadly did not survive for inclusion in the Official Records). From these surveys the Confederates formed a plan to recover the Dahlgrens. Keeping these activities secret, General P.G.T. Beauregard selected Adolphus LaCoste, a civilian employed by the Ordnance Department, to lead the salvage operation. And let me stress secret. Scant few details of this operation appear as official record. Receipts for services rendered during the time period make no specific mention of the work. Only a reference to “moving and transporting cannon at Fort Sumter, Morris Island, and other points in Charleston Harbor” totaling $1420:

Page 65

Not a single mention of “Keokuk” or “salvage.” Such is important, as I will explain further in the next part of this story, because the details we have about this incredible operation is for the large part word of mouth and secondary source.

Work began sometime around April 20. The workforce consisted of ten men, three of which were blacks, employed by LaCoste along with at least five soldiers from the Fort Sumter garrison. These men worked on the wreck at night, to avoid notice by the blockaders, and at low tide when the turrets were exposed. The first step involved clearing the turret top sufficiently to allow extraction of the guns. The Keokuk’s turrets were not the rotating type seen on the monitors, but more so casemates with the guns mounted to pivot to firing ports. So clearing the turrets required cutting away iron plates.* Once the tops were open, the workers could free the guns from the carriages. The last step was to hoist the guns out of the wreck for transportation into Charleston harbor. Of course all of this work was done with the surf continually crashing against the wreck and all surfaces nearly or partially submerged.

Since at any time the Federals could interrupt the work, field guns on Morris Island, notably a Whitworth rifle, provided cover. Likewise the guns at Battery Wagner stood ready during the recovery. At least once, on April 20, the ironclad CSS Chicora ventured forth to exchange fire with the blockaders while covering the operation.

By the first of May the crew cleared the turrets sufficiently to allow extraction. To lift the guns out of the turret, LaCoste placed outriggers on a hulk, formerly the Rattlesnake Shoals lightship. LaCoste also placed a large number of sandbags on the bow of the hulk for counter-balance. On the designated night, the steamer Etiwan towed the hulk out to the Keokuk. Supporting the workers, both the Chicora and CSS Palmetto State sallied forth to parry any interference by the Federals.

Withdrawal of the first gun went smoothly up to a point. When the tackle reached the top of the outriggers, the gun’s muzzle was still a foot or so inside the turret. So an eight ton weight dangled in the open turret. To pull the gun further from the turret, workers began moving sandbags from the bow to the stern of the hulk, slowly raising the gun further from the wreckage. But even then a few inches of muzzle remained inside the turret. With dawn coming soon, LaCoste had to either find a way out, or give up hoping for success another night. But the matter was taken out of his hands. In the words of historian Warren Ripley:

Then fate took a hand. Tide and sea had continued to rise and as the old ship rose and fell, a wave a little larger than the rest passed beneath her. The bow lifted, fell again with the gun slamming against the turret, this time on the outside, free.

With the first gun in hand, the Etiwan towed the hulk to harbor. A few nights later the crew returned again to retrieve the second gun with less dramatics.

On May 5, Beauregard reported to Secretary of War James Seddon that, “The two 11-inch guns from the wreck of the Keokuk have been saved by Mr. LaCoste…” These two guns were at that time the largest in the defenses of Charleston (and from my estimates the largest caliber in all of the Confederacy at that time). One of the guns went to Fort Sumter and the other to Battery Bee on Sullivan’s Island. There the guns fired upon their former owners on occasion. With the later reduction of Fort Sumter, the gun stationed there was removed and placed in battery at White Point in Charleston, seen on the far left of this view.

That gun went to scrap some time after the Civil War. However the Battery Bee gun remained on Sullivan’s Island, buried in the sand. Found in the 1890s, that gun became a prized display in White Point Gardens. Today it stands as a relic with a colorful story to tell.

Charleston 4 May 10 067

The Battery Bee gun now in the Park

After the war, Commander Alexander Rhind, who’d commanded the Keokuk, said the salvage of the guns was “one of the most daring of the war, and in point of skill had probably no counterpart.”

In my next post in this series, I will take you into the historiography behind this story. We could simply leave the fact these guns were recovered from the Keokuk, but the story is too good not to examine the details. And some of those details indicate there’s more to this story.

Citations above from OR, Series I, Volume 14, Serial 20, pages 245-6, and 926. Warren Ripley’s account of the operation is from Artillery and Ammunition of the Civil War, pages 93-97.

* There’s one detail which eludes here. I’ve not seen diagrams depicting the actual arrangements of the turrets (or casemates or towers as some call them). Some depictions of the Keokuk have grillwork over the turret. However, secondary accounts of the recovery relate the need to cut through iron plate in order to clear the turret. In either case, LaCoste’s crew had to cut through a significant amount of metal and wood.

The stalemate of April outside Charleston, Part 2

First off, let me update the map provided in part 1 of this set (looking at the situation outside Charleston in late April 1863):

I’ve added the place-names for the islands held by the Federals.  Also depicted the units deployed to James, Morris, and Folly Islands.

Second, let me better describe Brigadier-General Vogdes’ command.  The brigade  consisted of 6th Connecticut, 36th Illinois, 4th New Hampshire, 100th New York, 62nd Ohio, 67th Ohio, and 85th Pennslvania infantry regiments.  The Third Battalion of the 1st Massachusetts Cavalry (Companies I, K, L, and M) accompanied the brigade.  Also attached to Vogdes’ command was one company of the 3rd New York Light Artillery, two companies of the 3rd Rhode Island Artillery, and Battery C, 1st U.S. Artillery.  Rounding out the formation was three companies of the 1st New York Engineers.

On Seabrook Island, just off the map to the left, Brigadier-General Thomas Stevenson had the 10th Connecticut, 24th Massachusetts, 56th New York, and 97th Pennsylvania, along with additional supporting troops.  All told, nearly 7,500 Federals occupied the barrier islands south of Charleston.

On the Confederate side, General P.G.T. Beauregard’s calls for assistance, prior to and after the April 7 ironclad attack, resulted in an increase in troops around Charleston.  On March 21, Brigadier-General Roswell Ripley’s 1st Military District (Charleston, Fort Sumter, James Island, St. Johns Island, and posts to the north of Charleston) numbered 12,345 troops present, up from 8,663 reported at the middle of the month.  On April 7, when the ironclads attacked, that number was roughly the same.  But by April 23, Ripley reported 18,351 present for duty.  But this was a temporary increase in strength.

Although not engaged in any major fighting, the troops were far from idle. In the weeks after the April 7 attack, Beauregard feared a Federal landing at Bull’s Bay might expose the flanks of Sullivan’s Island.  One brigade shifted to Christ Church Parrish in response.  At the same time, Beauregard ordered Brigadier General S.R. Gist to occupy Black Island, behind Morris Island, with field artillery (see the map above for location).  Fear was that Federals might occupy that island and take in flank both the Morris Island defenses and Secessionville (Fort Lamar).  But to fortify these points the Confederates needed time and labor.  As mentioned before, they were coming up short on the later.

By the first days of May, troops were departing Charleston for other threatened sectors.  Among those departing were the brigades of Brigadier-Generals S.R. Gist and W.H.T. Walker. Pressed to send Brigadier-General Nathan Evan’s Brigade on top of that, Beauregard argued with some success to retain at least 13,000 troops in front of Charleston (both 1st and 2nd Military Districts).

Reflecting on the situation and the results of the April 7th engagement, Beauregard offered advice to Colonel John Forsyth, responsible for the defenses at Mobile Bay:

I place great reliance, however, on three things – heavy guns, Rains torpedoes, and, in deep water, rope obstructions.  I have also introduced here Lee’s (one of my officers) spar torpedoes, attached to row-boats, which ought to be used in flotillas on all our large rivers.

In the days after the attack, Beauregard had followed his own advice.  He temporarily held up some heavy guns, including Brooke rifles, moving by rail to Savannah.  But unable to retain those, he looked about for other options.  One was to modify more of the heavy smoothbores into rifled guns – particularly the 8-inch columbiads which had little effect on the ironclads – in a manner similar to the 42-pdrs.  This program eventually expanded to 10-inch columbiads.  But the process took time.  None of the guns would appear in the harbor defenses until mid-summer at the earliest.

The number of rifled guns in Beauregard’s entire command as of the end of April was 113, as indicated on an April 24 report:


The majority of rifled guns were field artillery, and an odd assortment at that (Wiards, Blakelys, Parrotts, James, and Whitworths).  The converted 42-, 32- and 24-pdrs were marginal at best. Of the Brookes, three of those from the report were earmarked for the CSS Atlanta at Savannah.

But the Charleston defenders would receive, as the spoils from the victory on April 7, two additional heavy guns.  With the USS Keokuk sunk in shallow waters (see the blue mark just to the lower right of the map), Confederate engineers deemed it possible to salvage the ship’s XI-inch Dahlgrens.  That work took place between mid-April and the first week of May.  As result, Beauregard added the heaviest guns in all of the South to his defenses. (I promise more details on that operation in posts to follow.)

While working the wreck, the Confederates needed to support the salvage crew from any Federal interference.  At least twice during the salvage, Confederate ironclads moved up to cover the operation.  On April 20, the CSS Chicora exchanged shots with the Federals.  Guns on Morris Island also covered the operation, particularly a Whitworth field gun.  Although of light caliber, the gun could fire a solid bolt accurately to extreme ranges.  Beauregard wanted a second gun of this type, but was denied.

With respect to torpedoes, after the ironclad attack the Confederates wanted to determine the reason for the “big torpedo” failure.  As related earlier, the determination was excess cable played out during the laying of that weapon, thus rendering it incapable of firing.  That issue identified, the defenders soon placed more of the large torpedoes.

But Beauregard was most interested in employing the spar torpedoes.  Writing to Adjutant General Samuel Cooper in Richmond, he lamented that, “The work on the marine torpedo ram is at a stand-still for want of material and money.”  The funding for the project was expended and more was needed. While the Confederate navy provided some materials, much of the needed iron-plating went to the ironclads then under production in Charleston.  Pressing the point, Beauregard added:

Meantime the great value of the invention has been demonstrated so as to secure general conviction, and Captain Tucker, commanding Confederate States naval forces afloat on this station, declares unhesitatingly that this one machine of war, if finished, would be more effective  as a means of defense and offense than nearly all the iron-clads here afloat and building, a fact of which I am and have been fully assured.  Had it been finished and afloat when the enemy’s iron-clads entered this harbor several weeks ago but few of them probably would have escaped.

In early May, Confederates in Charleston received reports of “400-500 tons of iron mailing plates” in Nassau.  Circulars went out offering up to $1,500 per ton to blockade runners transporting the iron.  Beauregard went to the extreme measure of denying cotton to any runner who refused to carry the iron.

During the lull through the end of April, Confederates angled for an opportunity to mount a row-boat spar torpedo attack on the Federal vessels anchored in the Stono River near Folly Island. But these efforts came to naught.  Naval crews sent to Charleston in anticipation of capturing a monitor were soon sent back to Richmond.

As April closed, both sides maintained a stalemate outside Charleston.  Yet as both sides shouldered for leverage on the coastline, particular points gained prominence for future operations.  Folly Island would be the toe-hold needed to secure Morris Island.  Morris Island would thence become the key to reducing Fort Sumter.  Beauregard’s spar torpedoes would indeed succeed in damaging the Federal ships outside the harbor.   And the stationary torpedoes would keep the fleet out of the harbor.  The stalemate in April was but a brief respite before the next round of operations.  There would be few such respites in the next two years of war as Charleston became a very active theater.

(Citations and table from OR, Series I, Volume 14, Serial 20, pages 906, 917, and 927.)

150 Years Ago: Working on four or five gunboats simultaneously in Charleston

Lieutenant-Colonel Alfred Roman served as the Inspector General for General P.G.T. Beauregard’s district in the winter of 1863.  His role, as with all inspector generals in armies, was to assess the progress towards the commanding general’s objectives – be that a specific project or something less specific like overall readiness.  In the early days of March 1863, Roman turned his attention to military shipbuilding projects in Charleston.  In a report to Brigadier-General Thomas Jordan, Beauregard’s chief of staff, on March 10, 1863, Roman addressed the delays producing more warships to defend Charleston:

In obedience to your communication of the 4th instant, requesting me to make frequent visits (at least once a week) to the torpedo ram to urge its completion, I visited yesterday the ship-yard where said ram is being constructed, and I beg leave to report as follows:

Sixty-one ship-carpenters and laborers are now employed on the marine ram, under the general supervision of Capt. F. D. Lee. They work from 7 a.m. to 1 p.m. and from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. Captain Lee and F. M. Jones, his assistant, think that the wood work of the boat will be completed in two weeks. The timber and planking for the shield is already prepared and is now being put together. The boiler and part of the engine are in place and the shafting was being fitted to the stern. The necessary repairs to the machinery (which is second-hand machinery, purchased in Savannah) are being executed at the arsenal. Captain Lee has no immediate control over that portion of the work, and he doubts whether it will be ready as soon as the rest. Both Captain Lee and Jones, being otherwise engaged, do not remain all day with the workmen. Captain Lee, however, visits the ship-yard regularly once a day.

So much time has been consumed in the building of that ram, and on the other hand the difficulty of procuring iron to shield it is so great, that no zeal, I imagine, is shown in the progress of the work. If the carpenters were ready to-day no iron could be had to complete the ram. The Navy Department has promised everything, but has given comparatively nothing. The idea of working simultaneously on four or five gunboats in Charleston instead of concentrating all the labor on one at the time is indeed so very singular that I am altogether at a loss to account for it. From all appearance the Palmetto State and the Chicora will be the only two rams used in the defense of this harbor, whether the Federals attack us now or whether they delay it for months.

I add emphasis to the sentences in the middle of the last paragraph.  Roman’s remark about the Navy Department was just another dig at authorities in Richmond. As time passed, the friction between Richmond and Charleston would continue to be a problem.  Those in Charleston, from Beauregard on down, saw a looming threat from the sea.  But they saw their requests unfilled (and to some degree perceived them falling on deaf ears).

But were authorities in Charleston trying to do too much?  In other posts, I’ve offered correspondence and other documents that illustrate the shortage of resources – particularly iron.  In this case, Roman narrowed the focus of his complaint to lack of armor and machinery.  Captain Francis D. Lee, an army engineer – not a naval officer – had charge of the project.  But he lacked any control of the arrival of components.  This led, as Roman pointed out, to delays when the labor force mismatched the tasks required on a particular day.  And of course F.D. Lee had plenty of other work to do outside the shipyard.

For context, the CSS Palmetto State and CSS Chicora mentioned in the report were already in service (and had already fought an engagement at the end of January).  In December 1862, the Confederates laid down another Charleston ironclad ram, to be named the CSS Charleston.  I would assume it was the Charleston that Roman referred to in the report.  At the same time, Captain Lee conducted experiments with spar torpedoes to arm couple of boats then under construction.  These would later become the CSS David and CSS Torch, followed by a series of similar vessels.  And of course there were several other projects outfitting blockade runners (recall the CSS Stono, ex-USS Isaac Smith), refitting gunboats, and generally keeping the ships afloat.  Very easy to see why Roman would complain the Confederates were trying to do too much at once… and thus all the projects suffered.

And can we put numbers behind the labor shortage, and better interpret the difficulties cited by Roman?

Perhaps.  In addition to receipts for contract labor provided by firms such as J.M. Eason or Cameron in Charleston, the Navy recorded individuals employed.  The sheet below was the first of nine listing the individuals paid for services from January 1 through March 31, 1863:

Page 808

The final tally, signed by paymaster Henry Myers, listed 275 individuals and a total payment of $419,233.92 (all lines with a nice “check” mark perhaps indicating someone was very thorough validating the numbers).  Were 275 skilled hands (and I’m certain that was not the full sum of workers employed, considering the contracts mentioned above) enough to produce four or five more warships?  And maintain those already afloat?  I believe the paymaster’s sheet made Roman’s point.

And… hey… notice the second name down on the list:

Page 808a

Darn that extra “e”!  Scuttles my planned April Fools Day post!

150 Years Ago: A bad morning for the USS Mercedita

January 31 began early for the crew of the USS Mercedita 150 years ago today. Later that day, Captain Henry S. Stellwagen, her commander, would draft his official report:

At 3 a.m. we had slipped cable and overhauled a troop steamer running for the channel by mistake. At 4 I laid down. Lieutenant-Commander Abbot was on deck, giving orders to Acting master Dwyer about recovering the anchor, when they saw a smoke and faint appearance of a vessel close at hand. I heard them exclaim, “She has black smoke. Watch, man the guns, spring the rattle, call all hands to quarters!” Mr. Dwyer came to the cabin door, telling me a steamboat was close aboard. I was then in the act of getting my pea-jacket, and slipped it on as I followed him out; jumped to poop ladder, saw smoke and a low boat, apparently a tug, although I thought it might be a little propeller for the squadron. I sang out, “Train your guns right on him and be ready to fire as soon as I order.” I hailed, “Steamer ahoy! Stand clear of us and heave to! What steamer is that?” Then ordered my men “Fire on him;” told him, “You will be into us! What steamer is that?” His answer to first or second hail was “Halloo!” the other replies were indistinct, either by intention or from being spoken inside his mail armor, until the act of striking us with his prow, when he said, “This is Confederate steam ram —–.” I repeated the order to “Fire,fire!” but no gun could be trained on him, as he approached on the quarter. Struck us just abaft of our aftermost 32-pounder gun and fired a heavy rifled through us, diagnoally penetrating the starbord side, through our Normandy condenser, the steam drum of port boiler, and exploding against port side of ship, blowing a hole in its exit some 4 or 5 feet square. The vessel was instantly filled and enveloped with steam. Reports were brought to me, “Shot through the boilers,” “Fires put out by steam and water,” “Gunner and one man killed,” “Number of men fatally scalded,” “Water over fire-room floor,” “Vessel sinking fast. The ram has cut us through at and below water line on one side and the shell has burst on the other about at the water’s edge.”

In the span of less than 12 hours, two Federal warships had been surprised by the Confederates in the waters around Charleston. Like the USS Isaac Smith the afternoon prior, the commander of the Mercedita faced a dire situation. And like Acting Lieutenant Francis S. Conover the day before, Stellwagen had to strike his colors and accept the mercy of his attacker. So hectic were preparations that the Mercedita‘s crew failed to place the plugs in the ship’s boats when lowering them to the water.

Stellwagen’s opposite number was Flag Officer Duncan N. Ingraham on board the CSS Palmetto State – one of Charleston’s two ironclad rams. Ingraham granted the Mercedita‘s crew parole. But the interaction delayed the Palmetto State as her sister ship, the CSS Chicora, engaged other blockaders.

USS Mercedita

If none of my fellow Civil War Navy Sesquicentennial blog writers pick up the story from there, I’ll continue with cross-post this evening.

(Stellwagen’s report is from ORN, Series I, Volume 13, page 579.)