Naval History Blog

HL Hunley in its conservation tank at the Warren Lasch Conservation Center, Charleston.

On February 17, 1864, Confederate-built H.L. Hunley became the world’s first successful combat submarine when it attacked and sank the 1240-short ton screw sloop USS Housatonic at the entrance  to the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina. H.L. Hunley surfaced briefly to signal a successful mission to comrades on shore with a blue magnesium light, after which it was never seen again. All eight of its crewmen were presumed lost and despite multiple search efforts, the submarine could not be relocated. 

Over 136 years later, on 8 August, 2000, H.L. Hunley was raised from the sea floor using a specially-designed support frame, or truss. A multi-disciplinary team, under Project Director and Head of the NHHC Underwater Archaeology Branch, Dr. Robert Neyland, coordinated Hunley‘s recovery. 

Post recovery, the 40-foot, 17,000 pound truss continued to support the sub in a custom built, 90,000-gallon conservation tank at Warren Lasch Conservation Center in Charleston, SC while it underwent archaeological investigation. During the careful, year long excavation of its interior, H.L. Hunley remained in the same tilted position in which it was found to ensure minimal disturbance of its contents. Conservation of the recovered artifacts is being conducted by professionals from the Warren Lasch Conservation Center and Clemson University. In 2011, after the interior of the hull had been completely excavated, Hunley was re-positioned so that it now sits upright and no longer requires the support of the truss, which will be removed tomorrow morning on 12 January, 2012.   

Throughout its treatment, the submarine has been on display to the public, however, when the truss is removed, visitors finally will be able to have a fully-unobstructed view of the vessel in its conservation tank.

A 3-D animation of the recovery and rotation of H.L. Hunley may be viewed here: Hunley Submarine Rotation

For more information on the H.L. Hunley project, please visit the Friends of the Hunley website: http://www.hunley.org/ 

HL Hunley in its truss at the Warren Lasch Conservation Center, Charleston.

December 26th, 1862

USS Red Rover is commissioned

        The USS Red Rover, the first hospital ship of the U. S. Navy, was commissioned on December 26th, 1862, after a year of service in the Army during the Civil War.  An article in the November 1968 issue of Proceedings, written by W. T. Adams, commemorates the Red Rover’s brief but successful career, which ended in 1865.  Not only was the Red Rover the first ship of her kind, but she also served a variety of capacities for the Union forces during the War, far beyond the demands of an ordinary hospital ship.

        To those familiar with modern standards of naval medical care, it may be difficult to visualize the days when treatment of the shipboard sick and wounded was limited to the surgeon working in a makeshift sickbay—with no hope of better facilities until the ship reached a port which might have a hospital, days or even weeks into the future.  It was a situation that existed in the U. S. Navy, however, until the chaos of the Civil War produced the USS Red Rover, the Navy’s first hospital ship. Read the rest of this entry »

This week, the Civil War Navy Sesquicentennial is celebration the commemoration of the Port Royal Expedition.  The expedition, which entered the sound on 3 November 1861, was the largest assemblage of ships (77) by the U.S. Navy at that point.  The battle was an overwhelming victory for the Union, as well as a testament to combined Army/Navy operations that would subsist for the remainder of the war. 

CWN 150 bloggers are focusing their attention on the battle this week HERE.

The blog will show the most up to date information.  There are now several posts about the history of the event, anecdotes and profiles of pivital figures involved, and special programs offered for the sesquicentennial anniversary in South Carolina.   Port Royal blog posts will appear until 7 November. 

The following is the list of current Port Royal Blog posts at the Civil War Navy 150 blog (in order of most recent): 

Brother Against Brother at Port Royal

Storms off the South Carolina Coast

Navy Leadership at Port Royal

Port Royal Week for CWN 150 Bloggers

The Port Royal Expedition and the NY Times

The 1861 “Expedition Hurricane” and Port Royal

Home > Navy Memorial > Civil War at Sea
Civil War at Sea

The Navy Memorial hosted an all-day symposium on April 23, 2011 called the “Civil War at Sea.” Historians, curators, Civil War reenactors, archaeologists and authors convened to discuss the Confederate and Union navies’ contributions to the War.  Fascinating presentations!  If you missed them, watch them here on NavyTV

The Navy Memorial hosted an all-day symposium on April 23: the “Civil War at Sea.” Historians, curators, Civil War reenactors, archaeologists and authors convened to discuss the Confederate and Union navies’ contributions to the War. Watch the keynote address by Craig Symonds, renowned Civil War navies’ historian and author here on NavyTV.

At dawn on 9 March 1862, the Confederate ironclad CSS Virginia prepared for renewed combat in Hampton Roads, Virginia. The previous day the ship had seen her first combat action, utterly defeating two large Federal sailing frigates and demonstrating the superiority of armored steam-powered warships over their wooden sailing counterparts. Today, she expected to inflict a similar fate on the grounded steam frigate Minnesota and other enemy ships, probably freeing the lower Chesapeake Bay region of Union seapower and the land forces it supported. However, as they surveyed the opposite side of Hampton Roads, where Minnesota and other potential victims awaited their fate, the Confederates realized that things were not going to be so simple. There, looking small and low near the lofty frigate, was a vessel that could only be USS Monitor, the Union’s own ironclad, which had arrived the previous evening after a perilous voyage from New York. Though her crew was exhausted and their ship untested, Monitor was also preparing for action.

Undeterred, Virginia steamed out into Hampton Roads. Monitor positioned herself to protect the immobile Minnesota, and a general battle began. Both ships hammered away at each other with heavy cannon, and tried to run down and hopefully disable the other, but their iron-armored sides prevented vital damage. Virginia’s smokestack was shot away, further reducing her already modest mobility, and Monitor’s technological teething troubles hindered the effectiveness of her two 11-inch guns, the Navy’s most powerful weapons. Ammunition supply problems required her to temporarily pull away into shallower water where the deep-drafted Virginia could not follow, but she continued to cover Minnesota.

Shortly after noon Virginia gunners concentrated their fire on Monitor’s pilothouse, a small iron blockhouse near her bow. A shell hit there blinded Commanding Officer Lieutenant John L. Worden, forcing another withdrawal until he could be relieved at the conn. By the time Monitor was ready to return to the fight, Virginia had turned away toward Norfolk.

Though ending in stalemate, this first combat between armored equals, compared with the previous day’s terrible mismatch, symbolized the triumph of industrial age warfare, and set the stage for armored warship construction for decades to come.

On the morning of December 29, 1862, Commander John Bankhead, recently appointed commanding officer while Monitor repaired at the Washington Navy Yard, ordered his crew to prepare to put to sea. The weather finally clear, Monitor departed Hampton Roads that afternoon in the tow of the sidewheel steamer Rhode Island to join the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron in offensive operations against Confederate ports.

After Monitor rounded Cape Hatteras at approximately 7:30 in the evening on the 30th, the starboard tow hawser gave way in reaction to the pounding waves and current rubbing the rope against the hull. At 9pm, Commander Bankhead signaled Rhode Island to halt her engines to better ride out the storm, but by this time water poured into Monitor at a pace greater than the bilge pumps could evacuate. A large steam pump arrested the rising water within the vessel, but the respite proved to be temporary. At approximately 10:30pm, the situation hopeless, Monitor asked that Rhode Island send rescue boats.

Bankhead ordered the remaining towline connecting his vessel to Rhode Island cut, but a wave swept two of the three volunteers for this duty overboard to their deaths before Master Louis Stodder hacked the hawser in two with a hatchet. Unfortunately, the severed hawser became entangled in one of Rhode Island’s paddle wheels which left the large wooden ship drifting toward Monitor and threatening to crush one of the rescue boats. The rope that fouled the paddle wheel was cleared with an axe, but not before Rhode Island slammed into the first lifeboat and barely avoided a potentially calamitous collision with Monitor. The two ships got so close, that five or six sailors attempted to climb ropes to safety on Rhode Island; but only three reached their destination. Despite being damaged by Rhode Island, the first lifeboat took on survivors as the waves swept several of the ironclad’s crew overboard to their death. The heavy seas had grown so violent that the second lifeboat nearly struck the first as it made the treacherous, now nearly half-mile, return passage.

Some of the sailors in Monitor heroically remained in the engine room stoking the boilers that powered the pumps as they fought a losing battle against the incoming water. At about midnight, the water extinguished the boilers and the last of the men inside scrambled to the top of the turret as a second lifeboat was taking on survivors and a third approached. Traversing the short distance to the lifeboats proved a treacherous task and several men lost their lives in the attempt. Some, perhaps unable to swim, petrified by the gruesome spectacle, or waiting for others to be saved first, continued to cling to the turret even as the third lifeboat filled to capacity. For those fortunate enough to make a lifeboat, the danger was far from over as several men lost their lives attempting to board the paddle wheel steamer. Rodney Browne, skipper of the second lifeboat, made one last gallant attempt to save those remaining on Monitor, but failed to reach the vessel before it disappeared beneath the waves around 2 o’clock on morning of the 31st. Despite the rough seas, his boat managed to survive the night and was rescued by another ship mid-morning.

In all, four officers and twelve sailors from Monitor lost their lives. The heroism of the volunteers from Rhode Island who manned the rescue boats kept the human toll from being much worse.