Arrived at Norfolk, I reported to Commodore Forrest, and was ordered by him to go aboard the Confederate States, the receiving ship. This was a line-of-battle ship, named formerly the United States, which had escaped destruction by the Federals upon their evacuation of the navy yard. On the receiving ship, where there were a number of officers awaiting orders, I had my first experience of a hammock. Like one of the heroes of my favorite Marryatt, I signalized my entrance into the hammock on one side by pitching out on my head on the other side. Unlike Marryatt’s heroes, however, no shot-box with a sharp edge had been kindly placed on the deck, by a sympathizing mess-mate, to meet my descending skull. Having little to do aboard, I made the acquaintance of Captain James Barron Hope, who was acting as Commodore Forrest’s Secretary, and assisted him in the discharge of his pleasant duties. Captain Hope is widely known as a writer of both fervent verse and delightful prose. He has been for some years the proprietor and editor of the Norfolk Landmark, which is published at Norfolk, where he lives. His latest literary work is the noble Centennial Ode which was read last year at the celebration at Yorktown.

Having provided myself with the gray uniform of the Confederate Navy, I was taken to see Commodore Franklin Buchanan, who commanded the Virginia in her first fight, when he was severely wounded. The Virginia was in dock, and was being put in order for another cruise; and Commodore Buchanan was deeply chagrined at the prospect that she might be ready before he had recovered. On March 25 Commodore Josiah Tatnall was placed in command of the squadron at Norfolk.

Much has been written about the Virginia, but those who saw her will agree, I think, that it was marvellous that she should have accomplished what she did. The plating consisted of railroad iron rolled flat, and the bends were protected by iron knuckles. There was no plating below the water-line, and the prow with which she did so much execution did not look much more dangerous than a champagne bottle, which, in shape, it resembled. The great defect of the Virginia, however, was the weakness of her engines, which prevented her from manoeuvering rapidly, and which placed her at so terrible a disadvantage in the fight with the Monitor. The engines broke down frequently while she was in the United States service. Their peculiar construction, taken in connection with the great draft of the vessel, twenty-two feet, and her length, three hundred and twelve feet, rendered her management in narrow channels and in presence of the enemy a very difficult matter.

The Confederate fleet at Norfolk consisted of the Virginia, eight guns; the Patrick Henry, eight guns; the Jamestown, two guns; and the Beaufort, the Raleigh and the Teaser, one gun each. The Patrick Henry and Jamestown were ordinary river steamboats, hastily and rudely adapted to the reception of heavy guns; while the Raleigh, the Beaufort and the Teaser were small and weak tug-boats. An ordinary rifle ball would have perforated the boiler of the war-tugs, and a shell from a field-piece, if it hit at all, would be tolerably sure to send any one of them to the bottom. With this fleet, however, it was determined to attack the Monitor and the other United States vessels of war near Fortress Monroe. I volunteered for service in the fleet, and was assigned to duty on the Beaufort, which was commanded by Lieutenant W. H. Parker, one of the finest officers in the Navy. Picked men from the infantry regiments stationed at Norfolk were placed on each of the vessels; and, the Virginia now being in tolerable order again, the whole fleet, on the morning of April 11, 1862, steamed past Norfolk, and gaily down the river, the Virginia leading the line. The wharves along the river were crowded with ladies and soldiers. Hats were tossed in the air, handkerchiefs were waved, and cheer after cheer rent the air. The enthusiasm of the hour made every one feel like a hero. Captain Parker told me that the main object of the expedition was the capture and destruction of the Monitor. Commodore Tatnall was desperately in earnest, and one of the midshipmen of the Virginia told me that he heard the old Commodore say, as he stumped up and down the quarter-deck, gritting his teeth: “I will take her! I will take her! if h—ll’s on the other side of her.” The “her” was understood to be the Monitor. The plan of operations was bold and simple. When the Monitor came out to meet us, the Patrick Henry, the Jamestown, the Beaufort and the Raleigh, at a signal from the Virginia, were to run down upon the enemy, endeavoring to strike her on the bows and quarter. The Monitor was to be mobbed by the gun-boats while the Virginia engaged her attention. On each of the Confederate vessels boarding parties were detailed with prescribed duties. Those numbered one in each vessel were provided with hammers and wedges, and were to endeavor to chock the turret of the Monitor so as to prevent it from revolving, in which case her line of fire could only be changed by moving the vessel. Those numbered two were supplied with balls of tow, steeped in turpentine, which were to be ignited and thrown down the ventilators, which were then to be covered. Those numbered three were to throw a wet sail over the pilot-house so as to blind the helmsman. Meanwhile other boarders, armed with pistols and cutlasses, were to guard against any attempt on the part of the enemy’s crew to escape from the confinement which was prepared for them. I had command of the boarders on the Beaufort. The general idea was that the Monitor would be overwhelmed by the combined attack; and that by the means indicated we could prevent her from doing much harm. The Virginia would play an important part by endeavoring to ram her, and we hoped to be able, with our four boarding steamers, to take the Monitor in tow and haul her back to Norfolk, when we might break her open, and take the crew prisoners at our leisure. Commodore Tatnall expected that probably half his gun-boats would be sunk or crippled in the attempt, but he was quite sure of throwing on the deck of the Monitor men enough to ensure her capture. It is just as likely that the Monitor would have towed us to Fortress Monroe, if she had not sunk the whole concern before we reached her. The weather was dirty, and we lay at anchor during the night off Craney Island. Betimes the next morning we dropped down to Hampton Roads. The enemy’s batteries fired several shots at us without effect. We could see that the Monitor had steam up, and was lying close under the protection of the batteries. She looked like a huge black plate with a cheese box of the same color upon it. The flag ship Minnesota, with a large number of men-of-war and merchantmen, was below the forts. Signal guns were fired, and we hoped that the enemy would engage us. The day wore on and still the Monitor and her consorts skulked under the guns of the forts. The Virginia ran within range of the formidable fortress, and then fired a gun of defiance, but the Monitor would not come to the scratch. Within the bar at Hampton three merchant vessels were lying, and the Jamestown and Raleigh ran in, captured them and brought them out. This exploit, almost within gunshot of the Monitor, did not affect her movements. We did not get the fight we sought. It was a terrible disappointment. But in the critical condition in which the United States Navy was at the time, it was the wiser part for the Monitor to decline the engagement. Had we succeeded in disabling her, the whole coast would have been at the mercy of the Virginia. Obstructions had already been placed in the Potomac in expectation of a naval raid on Washington, and there was considerable perturbation at New York and Boston.