[38]
Capt. William Henry Murdaugh. Naval career and Reminiscences of this distinguished officer.
One of the most interesting contributions to Portsmouth war history was the sketch of the naval career of Capt. Murdaugh, one of the most distinguished officers sent out by Portsmouth during the Civil War, delivered by Mayor J. Davis Reed before Stonewall Camp, C. V., recently. The address was as follows: Commander, Veterans, Ladies and Gentlemen: I feel highly honored at being asked by Stonewall Camp, Confederate Veterans, to deliver an address on the naval career of my kinsman, Capt. William Henry Murdaugh, who served both in the United States and Confederate States navies. No task you might have given me could have been more cheerfully done, but I regret that one better qualified than myself had not been assigned this work. Fortunate, Capt. Murdaugh wrote something about his naval career, and much of this I will use. The subject of this paper should really be the ‘Naval Career and Reminiscences of Capt. Murdaugh.’ William Henry Murdaugh was the eldest son of John D. Murdaugh, who, after graduating at the College of William and Mary, came to this city from his ancestral home in Nansemond county to practice law. He was a man ever active in city affairs, representing it in the General Assembly for years and also in the State Senate. Among the few instances of father and son meeting in the same service his was one. He was an elector for this district at the election of Harrison and Tyler. President Tyler offered the appointment of midshipman to his son, the subject of this sketch, whose naval career began first on the frigate Constitution, which sailed from here in October, 1841. After an absence of three months she returned disabled and the whole ship's crew and officers transferred to the Brandywine. [39] While absent in the Constitution, his father, who he had left in perfect health, died, and from this time his life was devoted to the task (which he made a pleasure), of assuming that father's place. His life when not off in the performance of his naval duties was lived here among many of you, and all with whom he associated can bear testimony to his high sense of honor and unblemished life of modest worth. In the year, 1846 he began the completion of his education as a naval officer at the naval school at Annapolis, this school not having been established when he received his appointment. Of this school and of his cruise on the Brandywine he writes:After my voyage around the world I was granted a leave of absence of three months, but little of it did I get. Mr. Bancroft, the Secretary of the Navy, had just established the naval school at Annapolis; this was a pet scheme of his and he caught up all midshipmen he could lay his hands on and corralled them at the school; so a lot of the Brandywine midshipmen met again sooner than had been anticipated. Fort Severn had been turned over to the navy for the school. It had been unoccupied for a long time and was in charge of an old artillery sergeant. We had to shake ourselves down into quarters as best we could and we Brandywines took possession of a detached building that had, I believe, been the bake house for the garrison and called it Brandywine cottage. A row of one-story frame buildings was called Apollo row, because a lot of dilettante fellows had herded together and taken some of the best rooms. Some shed rooms leaning against the west wall which had been used as a cover for field pieces became Mustark Abbey on account of a very handsome fellow amongst those who occupied the rooms who was named Byrons. These rooms went by the name of the Abbey. A large mass of the youngsters who didn't care where they were put brought up in what had been the soldiers' barracks, a large two-story frame building, and this got the name of Rowdy Row. All those names held for years; in fact, until the place was remodeled and better quarters built. Our cottage not being quite ready for occupancy, we had to hold out temporarily in room No. 13 Rowdy Row, so numbered because [40] thirteen fellows occupied it. The cots had not come when we got there, so there were thirteen mattresses on the floor, with pillows towards the walls. While I was there Nag Hunter threw a somersault on his mattress and stuck the heels of his boots through the plastering at the head of his bed. Books had to be piled high to keep these marks from Capt. Buchanan during his daily inspection. Franklin Buchanan, he who afterward commanded the Merrimac in the first day's fight in Hampton Roads, was sent to organize the school in its new condition. Buchanan was one of the tartars of the service and the way he slammed us about in those early days of the naval Academy was a caution. It took but a small offense to bring about the carrying out of the terminating clause of most of the rules for the government of the school, ‘he shall be dropped from the rolls and restored to his freedom.’ There was quite a weeding out process going on, and while much simply mischievous conduct only brought a heavy bullyragging, as we used to call it, upon offenders, anything that smacked of ungentlemanly conduct infallibly caused one to be restored to his friends. One Sunday afternoon I was in St. John's Church in the gallery. In a pew below I saw Captain Buchanan. In the midst of the service one Peter W., a large and remarkably handsome fellow, came into the gallery in his midshipman's jacket, a suit service fatigue uniform. Peter was very drunk and would not keep still; he would wander about and once he gave a kind of warhoop. For such conduct we did not think old Buck, as we called him, could wait for the next day to run him out of town. The next morning all the delinquents were assembled at 9 o'clock at the captain's office. I was one of them, I remember, but my offense was the not expressing myself with sufficient clearness in an official letter I had sent through him. After an awful nagging from the eagle-eyed, eagle-nosed martinet, I fell back and he said, ‘Mr. W.’ Poor Peter! How he looked as he stepped forward. He was seedy and disheveled from his spree of the day before, and knowing that he was going to be dismissed, he was a sight to behold. ‘Mr. W.,’ was hissed [41] at him, ‘I saw you in church yesterday afternoon in a round-jacket, and every time you stooped down I saw a fathom of your shirt-tail. Now, sir, this may be dress for a jacktar, but not for a gentleman, I'd have you remember.’ Poor W., as we trooped out of the office, threw up his head in exultation. Old Buck had not seen that he was drunk nor had he heard the whoop. The first night I was at sea there was a very heavy swell running and the wind was rising. I was attending to the taking in the jib when the ship made a dip. I saw a green mass of water coming over the catheads. With this sea I went on my back until I was stopped half stunned by my head coming in contact with some hard substance. I was fully sure that I had gone with the water down the fore hatch and that I was down in the bowels of the ship. However, I was only jammed in between the foremast and the pipe rail, my head being caught between two fixed blocks. I might here, as Pepys in his diary says, ‘be funny,’ did I choose, after the manner of Sidney Smith, who, when there was a question of putting down a pavement of wooden blocks about Westminster Abbey, said; if they could only get the bishops to put their heads together the job might be done. I have told of my baptism at sea. We hauled the Constitution alongside the frigate Brandywine and transferred to that ship all our stores, and even the yards and sails. The change from the dark, old-fashioned Constitution to the light, airy, beautiful modern ship, the Brandywine, was a delight to me. Notwithstanding the glories of old Ironsides, I have ever held her in horror. The horrid winter cruise in which I suffered from cold, wet, hunger and loss of sleep, and when with a heart full of the delights of anticipation of the joys of home to find that home a house of mourning. Today I got hold of a delightful book written by my old friend and classmate, Admiral Franklin. The title is ‘Memoirs of Admiral Franklin.’ The style in which the book is written is admirable and the kindliness with which he speaks of his old friends who went with the South in her troubles is just what might have been expected from such a true, large-hearted man. [42] Franklin and I stood near together on the navy list At the parting of our ways his lead to high honors, to the commander of ships and fleets and the companionship of kings and potentates and grandees both native and foreign. Mine led to insignificance and the companionship of mule drivers, tanners, ferrymen and brick makers. Sure I am that he and I have one thing in common, and that is a clear conscience. The great honors might have been mine, too, but in heart I should have known myself to be a poltroon. I have never for a moment regretted taking the course I did take. I thought I did right at the time; I know I did right now. In the spring of 1843 I sailed from Norfolk in the Brandywipe with the corvette St. Louis in company bound to the East Indies, the squadron commanded by Commodore Foxhall A. Parker. The cruise of the Brandywine was an ideal one. It was the opinion of all officers, old and young, and of the men, old and young, whom I met in after life, that a happier and a better representation ship of the American navy never floated. First our commander-in-chief, a Virginia gentleman of the old school with a distinguished ancestry. Courtly but always gentle and simple in manner and remarkably handsome in person, he was beloved by all who knew him. Then the lieutenant, Charley Chauncey, the executive officer, thorough seaman, great on organization and discipline. He went in the dinghey every day when the ship was in port to pull around her to see that she was free from spot or blemish on the outside. Inboard no yacht was ever neater or more presentable. Commodore Parker has a fatherly interest in the midshipmen and everything in his power to make us comfortable and to help in the making of us good men and officers. Every fine night at sea he would have the band on deck to make music for us to dance by, and often we would be joined by the older officers of the ship in our waltzes and quadrilles. We were to be joined at Bombay by Caleb Cushing, whom we were to take to China, the first American diplomat sent to that country. We had with us a number of attaches, etc., belonging to the mission. Among the attaches was Dr. E. K. Kane, afterwards the Arctic hero. [43] Our voyage to Rio de Janeiro was one of fifty-four days. The novelty of sea life made it interesting to us neophytes. We caught sharks and dolphins and struck porpoises and shipjacks. Sea birds, too, we could catch, such as petrels and boobies, with baited hooks. As we approached the Brazilian coast we were becalmed on the Abrolhoes shoals and we hauled in lots of gouper and red snappers. We luxuriated on this fine fish diet, but we had also not disdained the meat of the shark and porpoise. As illustrating the force of attraction of objects on the ocean, which is well known, I mention this instance. An English merchantman brig called the Condor was becalmed near us for several days, and two or three times we had to lower our boats and tow her away to a safe distance from our ship. The St. Louis kept company with us all the voyage to Rio. Sometimes the commodore would signal for her to come within hail and she would run along parallel with us so graceful in her movements I thought, showing the bright copper on her bottom as she lazily dipped or rolled on the long ocean swell. Nobody could speak on these occasions but the commanding officer. On one of these speaking times, when a stone could easily have been thrown from one ship to another, one of the midshipmen of the St. Louis was, we thought, playing smart. He would shin up to the main royal masthead and put his cap on the main truck. This attracted the attention of our commodore, and after the ships had parted company he said to the pitt luff: ‘I don't see our midshipmen much aloft, Mr. Chauncey. Give the order hereafter that these midshipmen of each watch keep watch in the three tops.’ This was news to us. Up in the tops we could sit down, even lie down if we thought fit, and nobody could see if we read a novel in our high perch. I was the unfortunate one that got this delightful condition broken up. A soft bright warm day I was in the maintop. To get rid of the gabbling of the men who were on the weather side of the top I took the lee side, and making a sort of an awning of the royal studding sails stretched myself out with the ‘Hunchback of Notre Dame’ in my hand. The quiet and the opportunity were too much for me and I fell into a snooze. Unfortunately the officer of the deck hailed the top. Now it [44] was my province to answer the hail. The men in the top would have given me a shake had they known the condition of things, but they fancied I had gone below for a minute or so, and one of them answered the hail. Then came ‘where is the officer of the top?’ It took some little time to find me in my canvass cover, and as I had heard nothing of what had been going on, they knew as well as I did that I had been asleep. The commodore happened to be on deck. He did not punish me individually, as I had every reason to expect, but he broke up the watch keeping in the tops. My station, when ‘all hands were called’ was in the main top. Well I remember how my heart would sink within me when I heard in the voice shouting to us in the steerage, ‘turn out, fellows; it's all hands reef topsails.’ This we always knew meant very bad weather, as the watch on deck could reef the topsails unless it was blowing very hard. To a sleepy headed growing boy, who got too little rest anyway, to have to get out of his warm hammock, hunt maybe for his shoes which were going from side to side of the ship awash in sea water, to have to crawl up into the main top, plastered every now and then against the shrouds and ratlines by the force of the wind, then to have to spend maybe an hour in the top, on the cap of the mainmast head in rain, hail or snow, straining his shrill pipe to be heard through the fury of the gale, the rattling of blocks and flapping of canvass, to get some rope hauled on deck below or another one slackened, was hard lines to say the least of it. The topsails nowadays are cut in half with another yard added between the dead hours of the night a midshipman's halves, the greatest boon to seamen. Sometimes the old huge topsails while being reefed would catch the wind the wrong way and belly over the ward and put the men in danger of being knocked from the foot ropes. As this condition of things cannot always be seen from the deck in the darkness, often with my heart in my throat would I be shouting to the persons below to luff the ship or brace the yards more in to save the men. How often I think when I heard of the hard times professional men have on shore, preachers of all others getting the most of the pitying, how men go through life never experiencing that agony that comes to [45] one when they feel that the lives of many men are hanging upon his weak judgment. Hic opus est. From Rio we went to Bombay, a voyage of eighty days, during which we never sighted land. My recollection of India are a confused jumble—the smell everywhere of burning sandal wood, it was before the days of the common use of matches, of Hindoo temples, of endless balls, dinners and picnics given us by the governor general, navy men, army men in red coats, and native princes, veritable princes some, merchant princes others. The country places of these natives, with the trees in the spacious ground twinking with colored lights, the beautiful open arched houses, the music, the dancing naucht girls, the delicious viands and the cooling drinks made all an earthly paradise to me. From Bombay we ran down the coast of Hindoostan, sighting the ancient city of Gou in passing. After a short run we anchored off Colombo, in the Island of Ceylon. Here again we were the recipients of all sorts of courtesies and attention. The Governor, Sir Colin Campbell, was one of England's heroes. A noble looking old Scotchman. I remember that when he came on board the Brandywine the band played ‘The Campbells are Coming.’ The commodore and Mr. Cushing were quartered at the Governor's palace during our brief stay at the delightful island. We gave a midday entertainment to the people who had treated us so generously. The anchorage at Colombo being an open roadstead and the ship rolling a good deal, it was not safe to get the ladies from the boats to the ship by the side ladder, so an arm chair was attached to a whip from the main yard arm and after the lady was seated, her skirts enveloped in a flag, at a pipe from the boatswain's mate the men would run away with the whip, the fair one would go half way up to the yard arm and then, by tightening an inboard whip and lowering on the other, she would be landed on the deck. In the year 1848 he acted as passed midshipman on the sloop Jamestown, a vessel of twenty-two guns and a tonnage of 985. This vessel being in service during the Mexican war. In 1849 he was transferred to the sloop Decatur, of sixteen guns and of but 566 tons. [46] In 1851 he was granted a leave of absence to go with the Grinnell Arctic expedition in search of Sir John Franklin, and was master and acting first officer of the two schooners of this expedition. Dr. Kane, in his history of this expedition, writes as follows:While awaiting the building of these ships his duty was to visit the various arsenals in Europe to obtain the latest improvements in guns, etc. As an instance of his popularity in the old service as well as the new, some years after the war ended his brother, John Murdaugh, [50] met an officer of the United States Navy at Panama and after enquiring after his brother William, said: ‘Had I known Buck Murdaugh was in that fort I'd have aimed my gun to fire over it.’ The United States officer was on one of the opposing fleet. He missed the command of the Shenandoah, the vessel referred to in Capt. Bulloch's letter, owing to his absence from England at the time of her completion, and it was feared the vessel could not have been gotten out if held in port a day longer than was necessary. Capt. Murdaugh conceived a plan of carrying the war into the enemy's country by making an attack on some of the ports on the Northern Lakes. Of this plan Lieut. Minor, of the Confederate States navy, has this to say in a letter to Admiral Buchanan:August 15. The Rescue, which has proved herself a dull sailer, had lagged astern of us, when our master, Mr. Murdaugh, observed the signal of “men ashore” flying from her peak. We were now as far north as latitude 75 min. 58 sec., and the idea of human life somehow or other involuntarily connected itself with disaster. A boat was hastily stocked with provisions and dispatched to the shore. Two men were there upon the land ice, gesticulating in grotesque and not very decent pantomime --genuine, unmitigated Esquimaux. Verging on 76 min. is a far northern limit for human life, yet these poor animals were as fat as the bears which we killed a few days ago. Their hair, manelike, flowed over their oily cheeks, and their countenances had the true prognathous character seen so rarely among the adulterated breeds of the Danish settlements. They were jolly, laughing fellows, full of social feeling. Their dress consisted of a bearskin pair of breeches, considerably the worse for wear; a seal skin jacket, hooded but not pointed at its skirt, and a pair of coarsely stitched seal hide boots. They were armed with a lance, harpoon and air bladder, for spearing seals upon the land floe. The kaiack, with its host of resources, they seemed unacquainted with. When questioned by Mr. Murdaugh, to whom I owe these details, they indicated five huts, or families, or individuals, toward a sort of valley between two hills. They were ignorant of the use of bread, and rejected salt beef, but they appeared familiar with ships, and would have gladly invited themselves to visit us, if the officer had not inhospitably declined the honor.September 19, Dr. Kane writes: ‘The sun, so long obscured, gave us today a rough meridian altitude. Murdaugh, always active and efficient, had his artificial horizon ready upon the ice and gave us an approximate latitude. We were in 75.20 sec. 11 min. north.’ On January 11:It blows at times so very fiercely that I [47] have never felt it so cold; five men were frostbitten in the attempt to save stores; thermometer at 23. In less than two days everything about us was as firmly fixed as ever. But the whole topography of the ice was changed, and its new configuration attested the violence of the elements it had been exposed to. Nothing can be conceived more completely embodying inhospitable desolation. From masthead the eye traveled over a broad champagne of undulating ice, crowned at its ridges with broken masses, like breakers frozen as they rolled toward the beach. Beyond these you lost by degrees the distinction of surface. It was a great plain, blotched by dark, jagged shadows, and relieved only here and there by a hill of upheaved rubbish. Still further in the distance came an unvarying uniformity of shade, cutting with saw-toothed edge against desolate sky. At one time, on the 13th, the hummock ridge astern advanced with a steady march upon the vessel. Twice it rested, and advanced again — a dense wall of ice, thirty feet broad at base and twelve feet high, tumbling huge fragments from its crest, yet increasing in mass at each new effort. We had ceased to hope, when a merciful interposition arrested it, so close against our counter that there was scarcely room for a man to pass between.This expedition was in the Arctic regions for over a year. Capt. Murdaugh was given a Victoria medal by the British government for his services in this expedition, which, however, he did not receive from the Navy Department, to whom it was sent for delivery, until after his disabilities were removed during the administration of President Cleveland. He also received a medal from the St. George's Society, of New York city, composed of British residents of that city, for the same service in search of Sir John Franklin. From 1853 to 1856 he was on the steamer Water Witch; in 1857 and 1858 lighthouse inspector; 1859 flag lieutenant of the Brazilian squadron; in, 1860 and 1861 on the United States frigate Sabine, and of his service on this ship I will quote from a paper written by him for this camp and read to it some time before his death. (Read pages 1 and 2, lower half of page 3 and part 4, lower part 6, 8, last of page 10): [48] Capt. Murdaugh entered the service of the Confederacy on the acceptance of his resignation from the United States navy, about May 1, 1861, shortly thereafter taking part in the defense of Fort Hatteras in an attack made by the United States fleet consisting of the Minnesota, Wabash, Susquehanna, Cumberland, Pawnee and Harriett Lane, August 29, 1861. During this engagement he had his arm badly shattered and never fully regained the use of it. He was, as far as I can ascertain, the first Confederate naval officer to be wounded. He escaped being made prisoner at that time by being carried to the Confederate gunboat Winslow by his men before the fort surrendered. I find in a scrap book kept during the war the following account of the defense of Fort Hatteras:Much of the disaster which occurred on Thursday may be attributed to the fact that we did not possess ourselves of Fort Clark by the bayonet that night, but wiser heads than mine thought otherwise. Certain it is in my opinion that it was one of the causes, second only by the shameful neglect of the authorities in not properly fortifying the coast that caused our defeat. From these two causes we have the following result: The possession of Fort Hatteras, the key of the sound, the road open to invasion at any moment, Capt. Barron, Lieut. Sharp and about 700 or 800 men prisoners. I must not forget to mention a trivial circumstance, it may seem, but one which exhibits the brave man and patriot, on going to the fort about 2 o'clock at night Lieut Murdaugh might be seen standing in the moonlight upon the well defended ramparts of Hatteras; he was calmly superintending the work about the guns, having one fixed so as to better bear on the enemy with which he himself intended to fight. No one who saw him could doubt but that he would do good service. Fort Clark, then in the possession of the enemy, opened fire also on Hatteras and several land batteries which the enemy had erected on shore. This, with the continuous firing of the fleet composed of the Minnesota, Wabash, Susquehanna and Columbus, pouring a continuous stream of shot and shell. All eyes were turned on the gallant little fort fighting against such [49] desperate odds, amid a perfect hailstorm of shot and shell a boat leaves the fort. What can it mean? My! they are bringing the wounded to the steamer. What a terrible scene. Never shall I forget it. Surely that blackened face, that body covered with blood, cannot be the noble, chivalrous Lieut. M. Alas it is. He had fallen battling against them by the side of his gun. With words of encouragement on his lips, after several effective shots, but finding the enemy beyond the range, he remarked to his men: “Well, boys, we will wait until they come up and then give it to them again.” But he had hardly uttered the words ere an eleven inch shell exploded close by, sent several fragments through his left arm, shattering it to pieces.After his wound had been dressed he was taken to Newbern, receiving every kindness and attention from the people of that hospitable town. From there he was removed to his home, where, after months of illness and suffering, he recovered sufficiently to report for duty, this first being selected with another to seek a safe place for the removal of the navy yard stores and machinery. Charlotte was the place chosen to become our inland navy yard, rendering much service to the country. Soon after he was ordered to join Commodore Barron and Capt. Bulloch in England, who were superintending the building of several ships, one of which he was to command. Capt. Bulloch, in a letter to Commodore Barron, dated Liverpool, August 31, 1864, says: I feel now a reasonable certainty of getting a ship very shortly and the commander should be placed in communication with me. Murdaugh, I suppose, ought to have the ship, and he would do his work well. If you can detail him please send him to me at once. If his duties as ordnance officer preclude this, I hope you will let Whittle come. The service requires a man willing to put his shoulder to the wheel and capable of making an executive.
Early in February of last year Lieut. William H. Murdaugh, of the navy, conceived the plan of a raid on the Northern Lakes, based on the capture by surprise of the U. S. S. Michigan, the only man-of-war on those waters, and on mentioning his views to Lieut. Robert Carter and myself I need not tell you how cordially we entered into them, and endeavored by every means in our power to carry them into execution; but it was only after repeated efforts that the government was induced to take any active part in promoting the expedition, though Mr. Mallory, the Secretary of the Navy, was in favor of it from the inception of the plan, but money, or rather the want of it, seemed to be the cause of delay, which, however, being provided to the amount of $25,000, we, together with Lieut. Walter R. Butt, one of our wardroom mess on board the old Merrimac, were at last ordered to hold ourselves in readiness to proceed on the duty assigned us, when suddenly the order was changed, it having been decided in cabinet council that our operations on the lakes might embarrass our relations with England and thus prevent the completion of ironclads and other vessels building for us in the private shipyards of that country. With this expedition thus broken up, Murdaugh, disheartened, sought other duty, and he, Carter and Butt were ordered [51] abroad, leaving me here as the only representative of a scheme whose prospects were so inviting and so brilliant.Capt. Bulloch again wanted Capt. Murdaugh detailed to command one of three vessels to make an attack on the New England ports. In a letter to the Secretary of the Navy from London, January 10, 1865, Capt. Bulloch says:
I have long thought that a severe blow might be struck at New Bedford, Salem, Portland and other New England towns by sending from this side ships prepared with incendiary shells and Hall's rockets. If you will send out Commodore Davidson and Lieut. J. Pembroke Jones and will detail Lieut. Murdaugh, who is now in Europe, these three officers to command the ships, and each having not more than two subordinates of prudence and experience, I think the expedition could be secretly managed in the spring or early summer.This scheme was never consummated, coming as it did so soon before the termination of the war. What I have here recorded does not do justice to the naval career of Capt. Murdaugh. That the services he performed do not appear to be brilliant or distinguished, yet nevertheless they were of great value to the Confederacy. Nothing was more vital to the success of the Confederacy than the securing of guns and ammunition, and this service required a man of intelligence, tact and diplomacy, and was well performed by him. One thing is certain, no one sacrificed more for his beloved State and Southland than he did; none were more faithful in the discharge of duty, no matter how insignificant the work assigned might have been; no officer in the United States or Confederate States navies was braver and his record is one that I believe his city and his State can feel justly proud of. I thank you for your attention.
