THE LAST OF THE MONITOR
THE LAST OF THE MONITOR
III
By an eye-witness, Rear-Admiral E.W. Watson, U.S.N.
On the 29th of December, 1862, nine months after her memorable combat with the Merrimac, the Monitor, Commander John P. Bankhead, left Hampton Roads in tow of the Rhode Island, commanded by Captain Stephen Decatur Trenchard, for Beaufort, North Carolina. The weather at the time of starting looked favorable for the trip, but on the following day, when nearing Cape Hatteras, the wind came out from the southeast and gradually freshened until by evening it was blowing a moderate gale, with a tolerably heavy sea running. It was soon seen that the Monitor was making heavy weather of it, and the engines were slowed down, but the course was still kept head to the wind and sea.
This was a mistake, for experience later on in towing other vessels of her class proved that the safest way to handle them in heavy weather was to let them lie in the trough of the sea, when the waves would wash over their decks and the roll would not be excessive. The Monitor was closely watched, all on board the Rhode Island feeling anxious for her safety. Toward the end of the first watch—between 8 P.M. and midnight—the signal of distress, a red lantern, was hoisted on the Monitor, and, unknown to those on the Rhode Island, the hawser was cut and the anchor of the Monitor let go.
The Rhode Island immediately stopped her engine, and three boats were called away with an officer in charge of each, and were sent to take off the Monitor's people. With the heavy sea running it was a difficult matter to go alongside of her, and the first boat to reach her was thrown by a wave upon the deck and a hole stove in her. The next wave washed the boat off, and with considerable difficulty she took on board as many of the men as in her leaky condition could make the return trip safely.
When the boats came alongside of the Monitor, her captain and executive officer went upon the deck and, clinging to the life-lines with the waves washing over them, called to the crew to come down from the turret and get into the boats, which they were reluctant to do at first. Some were able to jump into the boats, and some landed in the water and were hauled in. Seeing an old quartermaster with a large bundle under his arm, the executive officer, thinking that it was his clothes-bag, told him that that was no time to be trying to save his effects. He said nothing, but threw it into the boat. When the bundle was passed up over the side of the Rhode Island it proved to be a little messenger-boy—probably the smallest and youngest one in the service. The three boats were finally loaded and made their way back to the ship.
In the mean while the Rhode Island, in backing her engines, had fouled the hawser with her port paddle-wheel, and being directly to windward of the Monitor, with her engines helpless, drifted down upon her. It looked at one time as if she would strike the bow of the Monitor, but, fortunately, she just missed it, and, scraping along her side, drifted off to leeward.