The Other Infernal Machine: The Tale of the Union Navy’s USS “Alligator” Part 5 — And So Into History: July 1862 – April 1863

In July, 1862, Union General George McClellan’s Peninsular Campaign came to its ignominious end on the banks of the James River, as his Army of the Potomac huddled under the protection of the US Navy’s guns at Harrison’s Landing.

Little Mac’s version of the West Point “Turning Movement,” conceived (but not performed) in grand Napoleonic style was beaten by Confederate Generals Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, using the resurgent Army of Northern Virginia in a turning movement of their own and saving the Confederacy’s capital of Richmond in the process.

Almost un-noticed in the campaign’s finish was the end of the abortive Appomattox River Raid. Commodore John Rodgers discovered that warships armored and laden with heavy guns are no good if the river they are fighting in is low on water.

In the aftermath of the Peninsular Campaign, US Navy Secretary Gideon Welles’ and Flag Officer Louis Goldsborough, commander of the Navy’s North Atlantic Blockade Squadron glumly held an inquest on the Navy’s handling of its portion of the conflict.

Model of the 1862 USS Alligator, showing the oar-driven propulsion system] {courtesy navsource.com}

Goldsborough’s analysis on the Navy’s operations concluded that the USS “Alligator” was not suited to operations in the cramped and shallow confines of the James and Appomattox Rivers, being more successful when operating in the open ocean or at a deep water port like that found at Norfolk. 

Goldsborough added one final recommendation.

As built, the “Alligator’s” current design required significant modifications to improve its speed, efficiency and lethality.

Ever the pragmatist, Welles agreed with Goldsborough’s findings, and immediately ordered the “Alligator” to be towed to the best graving dock and ordnance works on the east coast: the US Navy’s Yard at Washington, DC.  

The captured Confederate gunboat “Teaser” being repaired at the Washington Navy Yard, 1863] {courtesy history.navy.mil}

On July 4, 1862, as the “Alligator” was being examined at the Washington Navy Yard, documents on the captured Rebel gunboat “Teaser” were found to contain information that a new Confederate ironclad ram was being built at William Graves’ shipyard in Richmond.

Aspect diagram of the Confederate casemate ironclad CSS “Virginia II.”] {courtesy navsource.com}

Dubbed the “Virginia II,” the casemate-style ram was 197 feet long, had a beam of 47 ½ feet, a draft of 14 feet, a cruising speed of 10 knots and a complement of 150 men. The new ram was armed with two double-banded 6.4-inch Brooke Rifles, a double-banded 8-inch Brooke Rifle and a double-banded 11-inch smoothbore cannon: every one of them “ironclad-killers.”

Though smaller than the Confederacy’s first ironclad, the now-scuttled CSS ”Virginia,” the mere thought of a second Rebel ironclad ram of that name loose on the James River caused grave concern to the US Navy.

Then “Harper’s Weekly” got a hold of the Confederate ram’s plans, publishing them in a July issue of the magazine, and the nation as a whole “became concerned.” Suddenly the Navy was beset by all manner of crackpot ideas on how to defeat this new threat to the Union’s waterways.

Front page of Harper’s Weekly, July 6, 1862 issue, here used as an example showing an image of the CSS “Richmond” ironclad ram currently under construction at Richmond’s William Graves shipyard, and sister ship to the Virginia II] {courtesy horsesoldier.com}

The Navy’s response was a plan from Assistant Secretary of the Navy Gustavus Fox. Fox ordered the USS “Alligator’s” return to Hampton Roads, there to await further orders for an underwater mission up the James to Richmond. Once in the Rebel capital, the “Alligator” was to locate by stealth and then sink the CSS “Virginia II.”

Fox’s orders were vetoed almost immediately by the civilian crew of the “Alligator.” Their captain, Acting Master Samuel Eakins had disappeared into Washington, abandoning his crew. Having just experienced the “charms” of the James River in wartime, the men of the “Alligator” were in no mood to go back for a second helping.

When Eakins’ replacement, Master’s Mate John McMillan proved unequal to the task, Fox then offered the “Alligator’s” captaincy to Navy Lieutenant Thomas O. Selfridge.

Lieutenant Thomas O. Selfridge: carte de visite taken after the Civil War] {courtesy history.navy.mil}

Selfridge, formerly of the USS “Cumberland,” of “Battle of Hampton Roads” fame, at first declined the offer. This prompted Fox to sweeten the deal, saying that if Selfridge would accept the post and was successful he, Fox, would make Selfridge a US Navy Captain, a jump of two officer grades. Selfridge agreed, and departed for the Washington Navy Yard.

At the Navy Yard, Selfridge was dismayed with the condition the USS “Alligator” was in. Some minor mechanical revisions had been made, but major modifications required the mind and hand of her inventor, Brutus de Villeroi, who was nowhere to be found. The “Alligator’s” air purifier, necessary for prolonged stays underwater was, Selfridge stated, “nonexistent.” Without the purifier, the time spent underwater would be reduced by as much as seventy five percent. Selfridge made his findings known to the Chief of the Navy Yard and to Assistant Secretary Fox, and then set about finding a Navy crew for his boat. About this time, Samuel Eakins turned up. (Though no longer the boat’s Captain, Eakins was still considered an asset, and so was given the title of “Superintendent.”)

Artist’s conception of the USS “Alligator” showing modifications made during 1862 – 1863. Note absence of oar-driven propulsion system, replaced by crank-driven propeller. Also note the added snorkel, here shown stowed dorsally, and reinforcement to the hatchway.] {courtesy quora.com}

As modifications continued, Selfridge’s reports of the boat and crew’s progress became increasingly pessimistic. Chief among the defects that needed resolving was the “Alligator’s” oar-driven propulsion system, it being plagued with constant breakdowns, oars jamming in the oar-locks. Worst of all, the oarsmen only produced a forward speed of, at most, two knots, which meant the “Alligator” would be buffeted by the smallest river current or tidal ebb and flow. Some other form of propulsion was needed to make the “Alligator” go.

Because of this, it was Selfridge’s considered opinion that the “Alligator” was too underpowered and too unwieldy to be sent on any kind of mission against the enemy.

This proved to be the insurmountable problem that sank Secretary Fox’s pet mission in using the “Alligator” to sink the “Virginia II” on Jeff Davis’ doorstep.

The plan was abandoned,

The “Alligator” returned to her place on the stocks at the Washington Navy Yard where her modifications got underway once more.

Lieutenant Thomas O. Selfridge received orders from Gideon Welles to take his crew and head west to Cairo, Illinois, becoming the Captain and crew of the river ironclad, USS “Cairo.”

Samuel Eakins remained behind to oversee the improvements being done on the “Alligator,” even returning to Philadelphia at the end of August, 1862 to consult on the new propeller being designed at Neafie & Levy shipbuilders, “the “Alligator’s” birthplace.

Throughout the next eight months, all specified modifications were completed on the USS “Alligator.” Sea trials in the Potomac River began in February of 1863.

March 9, 1863 saw the end of Samuel Eakins’ association with the “Alligator;” his services “being no longer required.”

A Currier & Ives lithograph of the city of Hampton Roads, VA in 1865. Note the barges docked at the piers, and the tent city growing amongst the ruins of the town.] {courtesy The Baltimore Sun}

The following day, March 10, the “Alligator” was towed to Hampton Roads, Virginia, and delivered to Union Admiral Samuel P. Lee, the new commander of the North Atlantic Blockade Squadron.

As the boat was being made ready for the trip, Secretary Welles re-hired Samuel Eakins, restoring him as Acting Master of the USS “Alligator.” Welles also informed Eakins that he would be in Hampton Roads only a short time.

Both Eakins and the “Alligator” were on their way to Port Royal, South Carolina, and service with Admiral Samuel DuPont’s South Atlantic Blockade Squadron off Charleston, South Carolina.

March 31st saw the “Alligator” and her tender, the USS “Sumpter,” being made ready in all respects for the trip south. The next morning, April 1st, the USS “Alligator” was taken under tow by the USS “Sumpter,” and the two naval vessels departed Hampton Roads, heading south for Port Royal.

The sinking of the USS “Alligator,” cast adrift in a heavy gale off Cape Hatteras, NC] {courtesy emergingcivilwar.com}

In the early afternoon of April 2nd, while off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, the pair encountered a heavy gale which caused the “Alligator” to pitch and roll violently from the high wind and rough seas. By 5 p.m. the violence of wind and sea had snapped the starboard towing hawser, and was threatening to snap the port towing hawser, the last connection between “Alligator” and the “Sumpter,” endangering both vessels.

On consulting his officers and including Acting Master Eakins, the “Sumpter’s” Acting Master J.F. Winchester ordered that the “Sumpter’s” portside tow cable be cut. The “Alligator,” set adrift in the stormy sea, was soon lost from sight.

The “Sumpter” continued to be battered by the gale for several days more before finally reaching Port Royal. Winchester’s report to Navy Secretary Gideon Welles on the loss of the “Alligator” was backed up by Samuel Eakins in his own report to Welles; a tragic but unavoidable loss to the US Navy.         

Welles response was both terse and predictable.

Winchester and the “Sumpter” were to hold themselves in readiness to support Admiral DuPont and the South Atlantic Blockade Squadron.

Eakins’ commission as Acting Master was “revoked … (his) services no longer being required.”

His commission gone and a civilian once more, Samuel Eakins disappeared into history, abandoning his crew once again.

Panoramic illustration of the first Naval Battle of Charleston, 7 April 1863. Vessels the foreground are the un-armored screw-sloops and gunboats of Union Admiral Samuel DuPont’s South Atlantic Blockade Squadron. In the middle distance, DuPont’s armored ironclads and monitors are forming up for the attack on Confederate-held Fort Sumter (centered in the middle distance) and also on Fort Moultrie.(middle distance on the right.) The harbor’s obstructions and torpedoes lurk underwater across the main channel between Sumter and Moultrie. Further on the left in the far distance is James Island with flag-topped Battery Wagner. The decrepit silhouette of Castle Pinckney can be seen in the far distance between Forts Sumter and Moultrie, and the port of Charleston can just be seen on the horizon. This drawing was used by Admiral DuPont when giving lectures on the battle] {courtesy history.navy.mil}

Without the services of the USS “Alligator“ to deal with the obstructions and torpedoes that infested Charleston harbor’s “Gate of Hell,” the naval assault of Admiral Samuel DuPont’s South Atlantic Blockade Squadron on April 9th was doomed from the start. DuPont lost one ironclad, the “Keokuk,” to shellfire from Charleston’s harbor defenses, with the rest of the squadron taking damage both heavy and light for their efforts.

Could the USS “Alligator” have been the key to unlock Charleston’s “Gate of Hell?”

The answer can be found off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, somewhere in “The Graveyard of the Atlantic.”

Artist’s concept of the ongoing search for the US Navy’s first submarine, the USS “Alligator,” currently on “Eternal Patrol” near Cape Hatteras, North Carolina] {courtesy navsource.com}

(Note: All graphic images of Infernal Machine game materials used in this series of articles are subjective and may change and appear different in their final form.  All images show sourcing unless otherwise noted.)


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2 thoughts on “The Other Infernal Machine: The Tale of the Union Navy’s USS “Alligator” Part 5 — And So Into History: July 1862 – April 1863

  1. Edward,
    The series that you’ve written in support of Infernal Machine is nothing short of incredible. Not only can I feel your passion for the subject, but it has also greatly stimulated my interest in studying the process of bringing forth this engineering innovation. I absolutely can’t wait to be a part of the discovery process in learning from your finished game. I intend to use the game to teach economics, engineering, project management and history to the next generation of my family. Thank you! Keep going! you and Jeremy have my support.

    • Thanks very much, Ray.

      We are making sure of the historical accuracy of “Infernal Machine,”

      The more I delve into the history, the more I am amazed at what mechanical and hydraulic engineering was developing during their part of the industrial Revolution.

      The information Dr. Jeremy White and I are uncovering and using in “Infernal Machine” is amazingly deep and dense.
      Imagine!
      In 1862 Mobile, Alabama, James McClintock, Baxter Watson and their financial investor and partner Horace L. Hunley were busy working on a submersible craft that would be propelled by a battery-powered magnetic engine! It they had succeeded, they would have pre-dated John Holland’s electrically-powered submarine by at least fifty years.

      Take Charleston, SC, where a team of engineers and mechanics were building a fast-moving lightweight craft dubbed the CSS “David,” armed with a spar torpedo packed with over 100 lbs. of black gunpowder.
      in its first combat mission, the “David” heavily damaged and nearly sank the most powerful warship at that time, the Union Navy’s “New Ironsides,” and putting it in drydock for almost the rest of the war.
      Four of these “David” torpedo boats were built in Charleston alone during the war; all were used in single attacks on individual Yankee blockade warships.

      Imagine what would have happened if the four “Davids” were used teamed together and unleashed in the Confederate Navy’s version of a “wolfpack,” against the blockading US Navy ships off Charleston Harbor.
      Or how about the “Charleston Wolfpack” being shipped south by rail and showing up at the Battle of Mobile Bay?
      If that happened, Union Admiral David Glasgow Farragut’s famous battle cry of “Damn the Torpedoes!” would have a note of agony in it as he watched four of his monitors join the USS “Tecumseh” at the bottom of Mobile Bay.

      A truly amazing time that reverberates in our own each and every day.

      Good luck & good gaming!

      Ed Ostermeyer