Model from Freetimehobbies.com of a 'Maury Gunboat.' Confederates planned to build 100 of these for $2 million to defend their coast and inland waterways.
The Confederate government in the
months following the First Battle of Manassas through that fall and into the
winter found itself warring with the Virginia state government and its powerful
congressional delegation led by former President John Tyler over how best to
defend its Atlantic Coast, the Chesapeake Bay and the tidal rivers so crucial
to its economy.
The
“one battle” war had proved an illusion.
As
the months dragged on and credit became harder to secure, choices had to be
made. The armies in Virginia, the
Carolinas, Tennessee, along the Gulf Coast, and across the Mississippi had to
be fed, clothed, armed, and cared for when disease struck or its soldiers were
wounded in combat. They had the highest priority.
For
the Navy, the junior service in priority, the Virginians wanted gunboats to
harass blockaders and hold off invaders in its coastal waters, and Confederate
Navy Secretary Stephen Mallory wanted floating iron fortresses to defend ports
along the 3,500-mile coast and Mississippi, vessels possibly capable of terrorizing
Northern ports.
Either would be
teamed with forts on land; heavy artillery, including confiscated naval guns; mines and other obstructions; snipers along
the rivers; and civilian steamers now armed and sheathed.
For a time, the
Confederacy gambled that it could afford both.
When it became clear that it couldn’t.
Old scars from earlier political battles between Matthew Fontaine Maury
and the Virginians, led by Tyler and Governor John Letcher, on one side, and Mallory, President Jefferson Davis,
and Confederate “blue water navalists” on the other would become fresh wounds
that left the Confederacy’s naval efforts shattered and its treasury drained.
As we mark
the150th anniversary of the Battle of Hampton Roads, the clash of the ironclads
with its oft-told tales of how CSS
Virginia came to be and how John Ericsson’s radically designed Monitor made its way into the Union
fleet, it is time to shine light on the “gunboat war,” a bitter campaign fought
solely inside the Confederate government at Richmond.
Davis
-- West Point graduate, hero-volunteer from Mississippi in the Mexican War, and
a former secretary of War – concentrated on fighting on land. To him, a Confederate Navy was an
afterthought. Privateers with letters of marque and reprisal were at the outer
limits of his naval concepts. For the most part, he left naval matters in the
hands of his former Senate colleague Mallory, a Floridian.
Now at war,
Maury saw himself as a man singularly equipped to create an almost impenetrable
defense of Southern ports, inlets and waterways. As a member of the governor’s advisory
council, a de facto war ministry, he layered Virginia’s defenses to his liking
for months before the state’s army and navy were absorbed into the Confederate
armed forces.
While Mallory thought
“small,” in Maury’s words, about coastal
defense, the commander dreamed large – as he had done in the turf wars to expand the National
Observatory. After demonstrating the effectiveness of mines before First
Manassas and being named head of Confederate coastal defenses, he plotted how
to build a new class of gunboats.
To
prepare the way, Maury, writing as "Ben Bow,” used the influential
Richmond Enquirer for guerrilla strikes
against Davis and Mallory, dubbed the “Cotton Kings.” Starting in late
September 1861, he blasted the
administration’s moves as “mere makeshifts” when it came to naval
defense. He compared its two requests for naval appropriations to creating “a navy without vessels [to having] lamps without oil.”
As
chairman of the Senate Naval Affairs Committee, Mallory survived a war through
the press and in Congress with Maury; and he was not about to countenance
another one with an officer directly under his control. In less than a week, the secretary ordered Maury
to Cuba to buy weapons. It clearly was an order to bring Maury, at the time one
of the nation’s most prominent scientists, to heel.
The reaction among
the Virginians and in the Confederate Congress was outrage. With Tyler, whose political cachet remained
powerful; the Virginia congressional delegation; and Charles M. Conrad, the
chair of the House Naval Affairs Committee and a former United States secretary
of War, setting the debate’s tone, the Confederate Congress declared the
commander was too valuable where he was. The gunboat plan would live as long as
Maury was in Richmond. Mallory was working
on that.
Not trusting
Mallory at all, Maury turned to good listener Letcher and his allies in the
Virginia Convention, sitting as the state legislature, with his "big gun
and little ship” plan. The ships became known as the "Maury Gunboats."
Maury
did not want a ship "stout enough to keep the sea.” Instead, he envisioned "steam launches
each capable of carrying two rifled pivot guns and no more. Their structure should be simple and plain
and as economical as possible. They
should be literally nothing but floating gun carriages” with crews of forty men
and no accommodations.
The
commander wanted to build the gunboats quickly and turn them loose on the
federal fleet in the Chesapeake Bay's shallow waters and North Carolina's tidal
rivers and sounds. Shipwrights in the bay counties of Mathews and Gloucester
would be the primary builders, and they could do the work, along with
soldier-artisans about to go into winter quarters. Other yards in coastal North
Carolina were also available. They already were engaged in building a “mosquito
fleet” of converted tugboats for Maury’s longtime friend, Captain William P.
Lynch.
"Going out like a nest of hornets, they
will especially, if the building and the fitting out be kept from the enemy,
either sink, capture or drive away from the Chesapeake and its tributaries the
whole fleet which the enemy now has or probably will in that time in these
waters.” Then the "nest of hornets” could close off the maritime traffic
through the Virginia capes, starve out Fortress Monroe, and threaten Washington.
In late October, a Union fleet of more
than twenty ships loaded with thousands of troops steamed to Port Royal, about
halfway between Charleston, South Carolina and Savannah, Georgia. With no
gunboats to hinder them there and few coastal defenses of consequence, the
Union Navy covered the landing and beachhead that “would serve all the future
needs of the army and navy,” meaning no need to return to Hampton Roads to
refit. The Union blockade was taking hold.
Thomas
Jefferson Page, a seasoned Confederate naval officer, wrote: "Suppose a fleet of twenty of
these boats in the harbor of Port Royal at the time of late attack from the
enemy, can any one fail to perceive that the result would have been vastly
different.”
In
the wake of the latest debacle on the Carolina coast, Maury lobbied the
Virginia Convention even more strenuously for his gunboats. The Virginians' renewed insistence, especially
that of Tyler, and the tightening blockade moved the Confederate Congress to
approve $2 million to build one-hundred
vessels. On Christmas Eve, Davis
signed the bill putting Maury in charge of building the fleet that "shall
present little more than a feather edge” to naval invaders.
Like the
hundreds of thousands of dollars set aside to rebuild Merrimack and other
ironclads in the South, this was a high stakes roll of the dice with no
guarantee of success.
When
members of the Virginia Convention approached Mallory about carrying out Maury’s
plan, the secretary said even as they spoke he had agents scouring the
countryside for engines. For now, the
Virginians were satisfied. Tyler happily reported that Maury had “woven a
proud chaplet around her brow by having won a name all over the world which
reflects new luster on the name of Virginia” by advocating the state’s strong
defense.
After the Christmas
1861 holiday, Maury, with his son John, set about getting the gunboats on the
ways. But supplies, especially boilers
and the heavy oak for the hulls, proved difficult to come by. Over fears of new attacks in Virginia, Maury’s
idea to free soldiers with carpentry skills from Army duties in the winter was
rejected.
Despite these setbacks,
construction started on the Mattaponi and Pamunkey rivers, near West Point, and
also along the Rappahannock and at the Norfolk naval yard. Talbott &
Brothers, a large Richmond foundry, turned over its entire business to the
Confederate Navy in February 1862 and announced the delivery of five double
engines for the gunboats. The next month
as the Battle of Hampton Roads loomed, Maury advertised for “negro laborers to
cut timber for the vessels.”
Ideas
that flowed so easily from Maury's mind to his pen ¾ like constructing one-hundred gunboats, or building charts for each ocean,
or cataloging every star or determining the best crossing point on the Central
American coast ¾ again were proving difficult to
execute, even when the ideas had Mallory's wholehearted support. The “nest of hornets” project did not. It also
was soon to lose its congressional support.
But
that is a tale for another day – after the sesquicentennial observance of the
Battle of Hampton Roads and the beginning of the Peninsula campaign.