a few days, to have depended heavily on Lenthall’s judgment. In any case, at this crucial period the Navy needed a man of proven energy and ability who would be able to handle the staggering amount of work which might suddenly be thrust upon him if the Union were to commence naval operations against the South. Gideon Welles found that man in Benjamin Isherwood.
Within only a few weeks, Secretary Welles had ample opportunity to judge the merits of his new Engineer in Chief, and then it was at a moment of national crisis. As Virginia teetered on the brink of secession, the Gosport Navy Yard at Norfolk assumed a critical role in political and military affairs. Unwilling to antagonize the residents of the surrounding countryside and precipitate secession by forcing overt southern resistance, President Lincoln and his Secretary of the Navy grudgingly maintained the status quo in the Norfolk yard, neither building up its defenses nor removing any of the significant portion of the American Navy which was anchored within the yard.
In command of the Norfolk yard was the venerable Commodore Charles E. McCauley, who had earned this comfortable billet by serving fifty-two years in the Navy. With a career stretching back to the days of Isaac Hull and Stephen Decatur, McCauley had long outlived his usefulness as an active seagoing officer. Now, in his declining years, little more than a symbol of naval tradition, he found himself suddenly enveloped in an “atmosphere of treason,” surrounded by younger officers who were largely secessionists and shaken by a series of anonymous threats which made violence appear imminent. McCauley, far more than Gideon Welles, felt the heed for caution—even to the point of inaction.
By early April, Secretary Welles believed he could wait no longer. Although building land defenses against the citizens of Norfolk would be open provocation, the careful removal of a warship might not unduly disturb the existing situation. Consequently, he decided to save the Merrimack, a vessel far more valuable than any other in the yard and a vital part of the small Union Navy.
The Merrimack, a forty-gun, screw-steam frigate, had been designed by John Lenthall and completed in 1854. A wooden-hulled vessel, primarily intended for cruising under sail, her relatively small and inefficient engines were at the moment dismantled and were being repaired under the supervision of Chief Engineer Robert Danby, at the Norfolk yard. Through normal departmental correspondence, Benjamin Isherwood was aware of the steamer’s condition, but he was also aware of the situation in and around the yard. Realizing the danger of the Merrimack in southern hands, Isherwood went to see Welles about saving the ship.21
The extent of Isherwood’s influence on Welles at this point cannot be determined, but the Engineer in Chief was undeniably insistent in stressing the importance of the Merrimack, and he “repeatedly urged” the Secretary to rescue the steamer. By April 10, Welles decided to remove the Merrimack to the Philadelphia Navy Yard, and ordered her preparation for this trip “with the utmost despatch.” The reply from Norfolk threw Welles into consternation. The engine repairs on the Merrimack would take at least four weeks; the vessel was helpless until the repairs were done. Isherwood, however, flatly rejected this estimate as being far too pessimistic. The work, he believed, could be done in a week; the four-week estimate was an excuse to keep the Merrimack in reach of southern sympathizers. The only recourse, Welles realized, was to send Isherwood himself to Norfolk to supervise the repairs.22
On April 12, Isherwood set out for Norfolk, together with Commander James Alden, who would sail the Merrimack to Philadelphia once she was ready for sea. Arriving in Portsmouth, Virginia, on the fourteenth, Isherwood located Chief Engineer Danby, and the two went to Commodore McCauley’s office to present the old man with orders from Welles requesting his co-operation with Isherwood’s work. McCauley readily consented, and the two engineers then boarded the Merrimack to examine the task before them. “The engines,” Isherwood recalled, “were in a wretched state.” The engine braces had been removed, and the machinery was scattered throughout the yard. However, disabled as the Merrimack was, there was still hope, since the machinery was all there. What was needed now was an extraordinary amount and speed of reassembly.23
First recruiting a number of machinists to replace the local laborers who had quit in an attempt to delay the work, Isherwood divided his labor force into three eight-hour gangs to work around the clock, and then steadily urged them on, day and night, with no respite. The driving, uncompromising spirit of the Engineer in Chief brought forth a herculean response from his men. Whether goaded by his impatience or inspired by his fervor, they worked ceaselessly until the job was done. On Wednesday afternoon, two and one-half days after the work began, they had repaired the Merrimack.
Exhilarated by their accomplishment, Isherwood and Danby reported to McCauley that the Merrimack had received fuel, stores, and a special crew of forty-four firemen and coal heavers personally hired by Isherwood; as soon as McCauley gave permission to fire up, the steamer would be ready to steam out of the port. McCauley, however, saw no need for immediate action; tomorrow morning, he believed, would be early enough for raising steam. Isherwood returned to the ship and put on the regular engine-room watch, ordering them to light fires shortly after midnight.
Promptly at nine o’clock Thursday morning, Isherwood returned to McCauley’s office to inform the Commodore that the crew was on board, the steam was up, the engines were working, and all that remained was McCauley’s order to cast loose the Merrimack and take her to safety. To Isherwood’s “great surprise and dissatisfaction,” McCauley stated that he had not yet decided about sending the Merrimack to Philadelphia at all; he would let Isherwood know in a few hours. Astounded at this apparent disregard of both Welles’s orders and the obvious danger to the Merrimack, Isherwood reminded McCauley of the peremptory nature of Welles’s instructions. Futhermore, he said, the Merrimack could now pass over any obstructions in the channel, but any delay might permit the southerners time to block the exit. McCauley stolidly replied that he would make up his mind at a later time.
Throughout this conversation and in subsequent ones, Isherwood later recalled, McCauley had appeared to be completely prostrate, immobile, stunned by the nature of the crisis, and apparently befuddled from drink. Overwhelmed by his unaccustomed responsibilities, wavering at a time for decision, the aged Commodore was tragically incapable of effective command.
Realizing the futility of moving McCauley to action, Isherwood turned to Commander Alden. The engineers’ work was done, Isherwood explained, showing Alden that the Merrimack was ready; now it was the duty of the line officer to take command of the vessel. Once again, however, there was a lack of that leadership and initiative so necessary in a crisis. Alden, at first enthusiastic about removing the Merrimack, now lost his ardor and shrank from the responsibility of overriding the Commodore’s authority and removing the Merrimack on his own.24
Returning to McCauley, Isherwood was further dismayed to discover that the Commodore had finally made up his mind ; the Merrimack, McCauley now insisted, could not escape, for the channel had already been blocked. There was nothing else to do but stop the engines, extinguish the boiler fires, and keep the Merrimack at Norfolk. Since the Commodore would not listen further to Isherwood’s arguments that the warship could still be moved with perfect safety, there was nothing left for the Engineer in Chief but to return to Washington and inform Welles of the tragic situation.
Angered by McCauley’s moral paralysis and Alden’s dread of assuming authority, Isherwood considered rescuing the vessel himself. He had kept the engines running continuously to demonstrate that the vessel was ready to leave. He had personally hired a crew to operate the ship. Without authority he had removed the chain cables binding the Merrimack to the dock, and had substituted rope hawsers—and placed men with axes to cut the ropes when he gave the signal. With few stores and no armament, the ship would ride high enough in the water to pass over any obstructions now in the channel. When McCauley ordered him to stop the engines and draw the fires, Isherwood recalled, he was “greatly tempted to cut the ropes that held her, and to bring her out on my own responsibility.”25
