Admiral-In-Chief: Abraham Lincoln, the U.S. Navy, and the Invasion of Norfolk, Part I

By A.J. Orlikoff
Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

This illustration published in 1907 depicts an attack against Confederate-held Sewells Point on May 8, 1862 by U.S. Navy vessels such as USS Monitor (in the lead) and the experimental Revenue Cutter E.A. Stevens (also known as the USRC Naugatuck) (following immediately behind).  The steam sloops Dacotah and Seminole, and steam frigates San Jacinto and Susquehanna are also depicted as having taken part in the bombardment against Confederate troops of the Columbus (Georgia) Light Guard and the Norfolk Light Artillery Blues. The circular structure in the middle distance to the right represents Fort Wool, despite the fact that its final design was a crescent at best, with Fort Monroe beyond, also looking much larger and closer than it would have looked to those manning the batteries, under a battle flag with a design that did not exist that early in the war. (Naval History and Heritage Command/ NH 58756)

On the afternoon of May 7, 1862, a tall figure stood upon the ramparts of Fort Wool in the middle of Hampton Roads. The figure watched as a powerful naval strike force, spearheaded by the ironclad Monitor, advanced towards the Confederate batteries at Sewells Point. Just that morning, the man who now watched as the ships of the North Atlantic Blockading Squadron moved into position had quickly appraised the strategic situation in Hampton Roads and prodded the naval commander, Flag Officer Louis Goldsborough, to utilize his powerful naval assets to conduct a “demonstration” against the Confederate works. With the rare opportunity to watch an operation he had ordered in person, the figure watched as the U.S. Navy flotilla, with powerful 11-inch guns, opened fire on the Sewells Point defenses. 

Fort Wool (formerly known as Fort Calhoun and known informally as the Rip Raps) on a man made island sitting roughly equidistant between Fort Monroe and Willoughby Spit, was the closest U.S. Army territory to Confederate-held Norfolk during the spring of 1862, making it a good vantage point for President Lincoln.  (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

The "Rebel Batteries" of Sewells Point as they appeared in Harper's Weekly on November 8, 1861.  A print of this appears in the Hampton Roads Naval Museum gallery. (Marcus W. Robbins via usgwarchives.net) 

Their fire was devastating as the Confederate defenders desperately tried to fight back. As the man on the ramparts watched, cannons to his left and right joined the furious cannonade as the Confederate batteries were silenced. As the smoke cleared, the Navy strike force shifted their fire to other Confederate batteries a half mile away from Sewells Point and the man on the ramparts was surely gratified that his strategic wisdom to strike the Confederate batteries had been sound. The man on the ramparts was Abraham Lincoln, Commander-in-Chief and President of the United States, and he was determined to make good use of his time in Hampton Roads in May of 1862.

Although it was common to have to sit still while being photographed during the Civil War, Alexander Gardner's photograph of this meeting at Antietam, Maryland, in October 1862 between President Abraham Lincoln and Maj. Gen. George B. McClellan captures the stilted relationship between the two men.  The following month, Lincoln would remove McClellan from command of the Army of the Potomac, and two years later, McClellan would run against Lincoln for the presidency.  (Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division via Wikimedia Commons)

Lincoln’s arrival in Hampton Roads, which resulted in the naval operations which led to Norfolk’s capture by Union forces, ironically had nothing to do with a desire to spur the U.S. Navy into action. Rather, Lincoln had arrived to confer with Union General-in-Chief George B. McClellan on his now notorious over cautiousness and lethargy during the Peninsular Campaign of 1862, when the vast Army of the Potomac was stalled by a much smaller Confederate army in Yorktown. Lincoln, having arrived at a time when McClellan deemed it inconvenient to meet with the Commander-in-Chief, was not one to sit idle and he almost immediately decided to take control of the naval situation in Hampton Roads while he waited for McClellan to meet with him.

This engraving published in the July-December 1861 volume of Harper's Weekly depicts 13 merchant steamships acquired by the U.S. Navy between April and August 1861 and subsequently converted into warships, plus the steamer Nashville (far left), which became a Confederate cruiser. U.S. Navy ships, as identified below the image bottom, are (from left to right): Alabama, Quaker City, Santiago de Cuba (listed as St. Jago de Cuba), Mount Vernon, Massachusetts, South Carolina, Florida, De Soto, Augusta, James Adger, Monticello, Bienville and R.R. Cuyler. (HN 5936/ Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph)

The U.S. Navy, over its illustrious history, has benefited from a number of ardent navalist presidents. Presidents John Adams, Teddy Roosevelt, and Franklin Roosevelt were famous naval champions who consistently fought for and touted the benefits of a strong U.S. Navy. However, many leave Lincoln out of the discussion of navalist presidents even though Lincoln was as much a naval champion as any president. In fact, Lincoln presided over an era of unprecedented naval spending and activity with the U.S. Navy exploding in size from 42 ships in commission at the beginning of the war to 671 by the end of the war, an increase in size by a factor of 15. This naval buildup was no accident as the Union “Anaconda Plan,” the grand strategy devised by the old General Winfield Scott and approved by Lincoln, relied heavily upon the Navy to blockade the Confederate coast, close its major ports, and isolate portions of the Confederacy by controlling the major rivers. To Lincoln, the U.S. Navy was a vital instrument in the military symphony designed to quell the rebellion.

This contemporary stylized map by J.B. Elliot illustrates the general concept of the U.S. Navy's Anaconda Plan, conceived by the Army's senior general at the outbreak of the Civil War, Winfield Scott. (Library of Congress Geography and map Division)  

Lincoln was certainly an unlikely naval champion. From an inland state and with, by his own admission, no naval experience, Lincoln nevertheless took to naval affairs almost immediately after taking office, though admittedly by necessity with the question of supplying Fort Sumter. However, by all accounts, Lincoln was greatly personally interested in the fleets, strategies, and technological aspects of the U.S. Navy. Lincoln was particularly fascinated by naval technology and one of his favorite activities during the war was to visit his friend Ordnance Chief Captain John A. Dahlgren at the Washington Naval Yard to personally view the latest naval technologies and weapons.

The then Captain Dahlgren, pictured here on the USS Pawnee next to the cannon that bore his name, was a technological visionary who served as Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance until his promotion to Rear Admiral in 1863. He was a close friend of Lincoln's and both men had immense respect for each other's abilities. (Library of Congress)

One of Lincoln’s greatest qualities as both a Commander-in-Chief and as an individual was his capacity to rapidly invest himself in and learn something that was unfamiliar to him. As a result Lincoln, by the time he was watching the bombardment of Sewells Point from the ramparts of Fort Wool in May 1862, was an adept naval strategist in his own right and he was resolved to take the fight to the enemy in Hampton Roads. With the Confederate batteries silenced, Lincoln watched as a puff of black smoke became visible from around the bend of the Elizabeth River. The CSS Virginia, terror of the Confederate Navy and the Monitor’s old opponent at the Battle of Hampton Roads, was coming to do battle. 

An Alfred Waud sketch of the Rip Raps (Fort Wool) in 1861. (Hampton Roads Naval Museum file)

As seen from off Old Point Comfort in 2016, Fort Wool looms in front of the Ocean View section of Norfolk.  The top of the Westin Virginia Beach Town Center can be seen in the far distance middle left. (M.C. Farrington)  

The "Mighty Mo" is Free at Last: Part 2 of 2

By mid-morning on January 17, 1950, the battleship USS Missouri (BB-63) was now hard aground on Thimble Shoal near the entrance to Hampton Roads. A number of tugs were summoned, their numbers swelling to sixteen by the end of the day. Yet even with their concerted effort, Missouri remained stuck.

This created an extremely embarrassing situation for the Navy. The grounding was widely reported across the nation. Jokes were quickly forthcoming, not just from other branches of the military, but also from the public and even the Soviet Atlantic Fleet. With a highly visible situation, the Pentagon debated on using civilian or Navy resources for the recovery. In the end, Rear Admiral Allan Smith volunteered to take responsibility of the operation. He asked Rear Admiral Homer Wallin, a noted salvage expert, to assist him. Wallin was most famous for running the salvage at Pearl Harbor after the Japanese attack there. By 1950, he was in command at Norfolk Naval Shipyard.

Smith and Wallin quickly got to work, forming a basic plan to lighten the ship, dredge a channel, and wait for the next highest tide. A look at the charts indicated that the next tide that was as high as that on the 17th would be on February 2nd; the men had much work to do before that day. Before long, a small flotilla surrounded Missouri. These included dredgers, tug boats, barges, the large fleet oiler USS Chemung (AO-30), and the submarine rescue ship USS Kittiwake (ASR-13), which supported divers working on the site.

Orders were given to remove excess weight in order to lighten the ship. This was a tall order, given the size of the ship and the necessary requirements for providing for the crew. Missouri’s sailors were kept busy for the next few days. All of the ship’s ammunition had to be removed, with the giant 16-inch shells slowing the process due to their bulk and weight (nearly a ton each). Over 2.25 million gallons of fuel was pumped out to Chemung and other smaller oilers, plus water and other liquids. Food stores were limited to only what was needed for one week; over 280 tons were sent off-ship. In addition, sailors removed the anchor chains (each weighing nearly 100,000 pounds).

Moving a 16-inch shell

Unloading 5-inch ammo

In addition to removing surplus weight, work continued underwater to free the ship. Divers and dredging vessels worked to refloat Missouri. This in itself was a herculean task, but the problem of getting the battleship safely to deeper water once freed also existed. Here the dredging operations were paramount. A channel needed to be cleared from the site back to the main waterway, a distance of 2,500 feet. Work continued over the next week until favorable conditions could be had for a refloating attempt. Although ultimately not needed, additional plans included possibly running destroyers by to move more water under the ship. 

A diver prepares to go below. Over 650 man hours of diving went into the operation. 

This event was a national phenomenon, helped in part by the time that it was taking to free Missouri. Of course Virginia newspapers were reporting, but others further afield, such as the Daily Iowan, had coverage as well. With each passing day, the naysayers seemed to increase, some thinking that the famous Iowa-class battleship was now a permanent monument out on the shoal. The salvage work steadily continued until January 31, when the Navy attempted a major refloating operation. This “rehearsal” failed, largely due to the discovery that something was holding the vessel in place on the shoal. Due to this failure, it was decided to remove more weight from the battleship, including one of the 30,000-pound anchors.

The next day, February 1, another operation was undertaken. Twenty-one tugboats, along with the salvage lifting vessels USS Salvager (ARS(D)-3) and USS Windlass (ARS(D)-4) were involved in the process. The operation commenced at 0545. Within an hour, the battleship was afloat and soon after was taken away from its shoal prison and back to the channel. Signal flags were hoisted showing “Reporting for duty” and music floats across the water. The salvage operation had taken fifteen days, but Missouri was free and had been refloated a full day ahead of predictions. The battleship was taken back to Norfolk Naval Shipyard for inspection and repairs. 

Missouri coming into Norfolk Naval Shipyard a few hours after being refloated.

The dry dock inspection showed damage to the hull, with fuel tanks ruptured. A twelve-foot gash is visible, caused by a six-foot steel bar, likely part of a shipwreck on Thimble Shoal. 

An investigation began soon after the grounding, but it was only after the ship was freed that a formal Court of Inquiry was held. At first the only primary suspects in the incident were Captain Brown (CO) and Lieutenant Commander Morris (Navigator). Commander Peckham (XO) was the primary witness. As the court proceeded, Commander Millet (Operations officer), and Lieutenant Carr (Combat Operations Officer) were also named as defendants. The court was heated at times, with Brown’s counsel often on the offensive. But in the end, Brown took full responsibility, saying, “As captain of the ship, it was my duty to keep her safe and secure. And I didn't do it.”

After nearly a month, the inquiry finished and a court martial was ordered for Brown, Millet, and Morris. Carr was reprimanded, but was not brought to court martial. Brown was found guilty of neglect of duty and other negligence at his court martial and the captain was reduced 250 spots on the promotion list. He never held a command at sea again. Millet and Morris were also both found guilty of neglect of duty and were reduced on their respective promotion lists.

There are always the “what if” questions surrounding an incident like this, and hindsight often shows problems that should have been fixed or other courses that could have been taken. In the case of the Missouri grounding, it seems that a series of blunders, miscommunication, personality clashes, organizational confusion, poor leadership, and a lack of recent sea command on the part of the captain seem to have formed a perfect storm leading to a disaster.

*Readers can find the original salvage report online.