Iron Maiden

by Jim Musgrave

  "Yes, there were about 16,000 troops. Washington was a southern town, and it was not a very nice one, at that. Only one street is in part paved, I believe, and it is Pennsylvania Avenue." Dana Greene was proud to show Ericsson that he had been paying attention in school at Annapolis.

  "Quite right. The biggest employer in Washington is the Navy Yard. They are still constructing the Capitol Building. We shall be staying at the Metropolitan Hotel on the north side of Pennsylvania Avenue. One does not venture onto the south side. The brothels and saloons are there, and the crime rate is said to be quite outrageous." Ericsson brought a cigar to his mouth, bit the tip off, and spat it out into the river. At once, Chip was there with his Flintstone, and he lit the inventor's cigar with a flourish. "Thank you, my boy," said John, puffing rapidly and pointing to an atoll of land off the starboard bow. "See that island over there? That's Mason's Island. I've been told that newly recruited Negro men are kept there without pay or pension. They expect to see military service in the war, but right now, the city wants no part of them in the general populace. Your country never ceases to amaze me, Lieutenant."

  "I think that is one reason why we will be better off on Easter Island, Captain. I don't believe most of these humans have any love for their fellow man," said Greene, rubbing Chip's head with his hand. The young steward smiled up at him, but he was thinking about something entirely different and quite a bit more somber.

  Ericsson looked perturbed. He pulled Dana by the arm and led him to the Navy steamship's opposite railing on the port side. "Mister Greene," he whispered through clenched teeth, "I told you I wanted to keep our adventure a secret. If anybody discovers the location of our island, then we shall soon lose our exclusivity. Please, do keep all of this information to yourself!"

  "I'm so sorry! I completely forgot about Chip being there, sir. I shall remember in the future."

  "All right. Please go down below with Chip and get ready to disembark. We should be coming up to the Navy Yard in a few minutes." Ericsson patted the lieutenant on the shoulder. "I don't think you did any real harm. The lad most likely has little knowledge of geography or science."

  Chip stood by the railing and looked over at Mason's Island. He was thinking about how his father, an educated man who read hundreds of books about islands and lands around the globe, had once told him that Easter Island was, a long time ago, an advanced civilization, and early settlers had called the island Te Pito O Te Henua," which meant "Navel of The World." The landmark statues of gigantic gods called moai were said to weigh over ten tons each and were often over fifteen feet high.

  Chip had done research on his own and discovered that Easter Island was located in the South Pacific, some 2,000 miles from both Tahiti and Chile. Recent times had not been so good for the island. After a civil war in the 1500s, the natives had turned to cannibalism, and most recently, according to Chip's father, there were slave ships that descended onto its shores. When Captain Cook arrived in 1722, there were only 600 people left on the island. In 1808, after a bloody battle, an American ship, Nancy, kidnapped twelve men and ten women with the intent of taking them to the Juan Fernandez Islands to work as slaves in seal-hunting efforts there. Three days' sail from Rapa Nui, which was the natives' name for the island, the captain allowed the captives to come out of the hold; they promptly leaped overboard and began swimming away. Attempts to recapture them failed. The ship sailed onward, leaving the islanders to drown at sea. Chip wondered why the lieutenant had mentioned this island as a place to visit. Were these men slave traders as well? Chip decided he was not going to tell Captain Ericsson and Lieutenant Greene about the English foreigner, Simon Ellwood. At least, not until he found out if they were slave traders!

  John Ericsson had not wanted to appoint John Worden captain of his new ship, but Secretary Gideon Welles, who believed in the Union, had a responsibility to show the rebels they could not break an officer who had spent seven months at a swampy prison camp in Pensacola, Florida. President Lincoln had sent the experienced officer to Pensacola to order reinforcements at Fort Pickens, but on his way back to Washington; Worden was captured by five Confederate soldiers and placed in the prison camp.

  Ericsson would have preferred a less experienced sailor to captain his new craft, as he was planning to lose the coming battle with the Virginia, but now he knew he had to design a way to put his man Greene in command before there could be a reversal of fortunes and the Monitor sank the rebel monster. If that happened, then Ericsson knew the Department of the Navy would never spend the money for more Monitor-class ships. This was the way of the American government. When you were completely successful, you became a hero, but no more money came your way. Thus, the war profiteers who made the big money were the ones who could design ways to arrive at what men called a "Mexican Standoff," a term used following the expensively lucrative war with Mexico in the 1840s that saw many industrial men make millions of dollars from the United States Government in what was basically one big camp- out. In fact, when General Winfield Scott captured Mexico City in September of 1847, he wrote back to President Polk, "I suggest we do not keep this country, as the inhabitants are unclean, lazy and completely uncivilized."

  Lincoln, who was a freshman Whig Party congressman from Illinois, was against war with Mexico, and Ericsson believed Lincoln was against spending money for armaments in this war as well. The Mexican War saw the first major use of steamboats in battle. Steamboats were used to transport men and supplies down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to New Orleans for subsequent overseas movement. Steamboats also were used to establish a line of communication for Commanding General Zachary Taylor's army along the Rio Grande when, after Resaca de la Palma, Taylor moved his army up the river in the first stage of an offensive against Monterrey.

  The Mexican War proved to be a training ground for American officers, such as John Worden, who would later fight on both sides in the Civil War. Grant, Lee, Meade, Bragg, Davis, McClellan, and many others gained experience and learned lessons at Buena Vista and Cerro Gordo that would later serve them well. It was also a politically divisive war in which antislavery Whigs criticized the Democratic administration of James K. Polk for expansionism. However, Ericsson knew, many men became very wealthy—especially the men who invented the steamships that powered the Marines to victory. John Ericsson had plans to do the same with his little Monitor. He believed he could make the Monitor the most utilized gunboat in the Civil War. In order to accomplish this, he had to have control of the battle at Hampton Roads, Virginia. This new captain, John Worden, was an obstruction to his plans.

  * * *

  Chip liked the new captain as soon as he set eyes on him. Unlike many white men, this tall, bearded scarecrow of a man looked easily at him and smiled as if they were long-lost brothers. In fact, Captain Worden totally ignored the other two men, as he marched directly over to Chip and took his hand.

  His thinning black hair was pasted down on top of his high forehead like a schoolteacher, and his voice was soothing and calm.

  "I am proud to meet you, young man," said Worden, motioning for Chip to sit in the chair in front of his desk. "Come, sit here. You are the guest of honor. The fate of our country's basic human principles is at stake in this war, and you are going to become the beneficiary of our struggle. You deserve to be listened to, and nobody should ever forget this."

  Chip felt vaguely uncomfortable as he sat down in the large, leather-covered fixture. Captain Ericsson and Lieutenant Greene nodded for him to do so, hence he sat, but he kept his hands folded on his lap and his feet straightened under his chair.

  "When I was inside that bug-infested rat hole in Florida, my best friend was a young black man about your age. He was a slave from one of the mansions nearby, and he was appointed to serve us prisoners our daily bread. That young man told me he was going to run away and join the Union Army because he knew we were fighting for his freedom. Mind you, he had never experienced being a free man, yet he was willing to risk his life just by tal
king to me about his dream. One day, when he did not bring me my bread and gravy, I asked my captors where he was. They told me someone had overheard this fourteen-year-old lad talking about joining the Union, and the boy was taken out and shot. Do you know the reason they gave for killing him?"

  Chip swallowed hard. "No sir," he muttered.

  "They told me he was executed for treason against the new Confederate States of America. Can you imagine? A young man, your age, is killed simply because he had a dream to be free. It was at that moment I knew this Civil War was a holy war. Just as the Hebrew slaves in the Bible needed a leader and an army to reach their land of freedom, we too needed Abraham Lincoln and his army to free your people from their bondage."

  "Well put, Captain," said Greene, lightly clapping his hands together in applause. "I am certain this is the reason why Chip Jefferson joined us aboard the Monitor. Isn't that correct, son?"

  "Yes, I guess that's part of it," said Chip, furrowing his brow in concentration. "Actually, my Daddy thinks no group or army will ever be able to defeat Thomas Jefferson's idea of men being endowed by God with life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. He likes to quote the French writer, Victor Hugo, who said, 'Nothing else in the world...not all the armies...is so powerful as an idea whose time has come.' Daddy says we will win the war because our time has come. We have been down into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and we shall overcome!"

  John Ericsson cleared his throat. "Ahem. I think that is all well and good. However, the French did happen to behead thousands of innocent people in the name of those same ideals. Also, as we were steaming into Washington, we observed Mason's Island. This is where the Union government is housing hundreds of Negro men who have escaped their slave owners, simply wanting to join in this celebrated fight for freedom, only to be once more enslaved inside gloomy dungeons until they are deemed Tit to fight.' Does this strike you Americans as liberty?"

  "Indeed, sir, I have heard of Mason's Island. In fact, I am on the Board of Governors of this installation. I also know that Negro men were refused entry when they attempted to enlist by the thousands in New York City in 1861. When these same black men hired a warehouse and began to drill by themselves, the police chief ordered they be shut down, and they were all arrested. Now we have Mason's Island because many men, myself included, want to train these Negroes to be a special brigade of fighters. Men who know they fight for freedom become infused with a unique power, gentlemen. I have seen it happen! These men may be segregated now, but when they finally do get to fight, they will be more effective than any ten brigades of white men, mark my words."

  "Very well, Captain, I appreciate your patriotic fervor. You will do well as our commander. I believe we should now get over to the hotel and prepare for the journey back to New York. I have a contract that says I must finish building your ship in less than four months’ time. Are you ready to serve on what the newspapers are calling 'Ericsson's Folly'?"

  Captain John Worden kept his mature gaze fixed on Chip's face. "We are soldiers in a holy war, Mister Ericsson. I know you are a capable inventor. I shall serve to the best of my ability, as will my men. Just remember this, Chip Jefferson. This is my favorite quotation from one of our early leaders in this country's revolution for freedom. He said, 'Guard with jealous attention the public liberty. Suspect everyone who approaches that jewel. Unfortunately, nothing will preserve it but downright force. Whenever you give up that force, you are inevitably ruined.' It is our task, my lad, to guard the jewel of our liberty with force."

  Chip stood up and crisply saluted this tall white man, his new Captain. "Yes sir!" he said, and he brought his hand down to his side so hard that it stung his leg.

  Chapter Twenty: Richmond Reality

  November 21, 1861, Richmond, Virginia

  John Brooke was home on leave during a rainy week, when storms had walloped the Tidewater, and he could barely make-out the courier through the foggy downpour, as the horseman came galloping up to his mansion. The lad was out of breath, and as he stomped his boots on the porch to get the mud off, the plumes of billowy exhales made him look like a human steam engine.

  "Lieutenant John M. Brooke?" asked the lad, pulling a waterlogged envelope out of his gray uniform's inside pocket.

  "You've met your man," said John, "now why don't you come inside where it's warm, Corporal?"

  "No sir, I was told to deliver this to you and get your reply immediately."

  John took the envelope from the young man and opened it carefully with his long fingers. The weather was so bad that no work had been done on the Virginia for a week, and Brooke assumed this would be some kind of orders from the Confederate Naval Command. He was still having a horrible time getting skilled metal workers and other craftsmen to do the backbreaking labor necessary to get the ship ready for launch. He and Porter, the construction supervisor, had continued to battle over the scarcity of supplies and tools needed to finish the job, and Brooke was just about at his wit's end.

  John read the communique out loud. "Reports from a spy in New York say that the production of the U.S.S. Monitor is well under way. You are hereby ordered to report back to Gosport to complete the construction the U.S.S. Monitor. The commissioning of our ship will take place in February. We have appointed Lieutenant Catesby ap Roger Jones as Executive Officer, and the Flag Officer shall be Admiral Franklin Buchanan." John slapped the letter on his thigh and whistled. "Whoopee! Here they go again. We can't even get enough steel to lay the superstructure, and they've already appointed an Admiral to take her out to fight! Now isn't that just like the Confederate Navy?"

  The young enlisted man stared questioningly up at his superior. "Sir, will you write them a reply? I was told to wait for your answer."

  "Yes, my reply. I shall give them my reply in a moment.

  Do you know what I found out today, son?"

  "No sir. I've been riding for five hours straight."

  "I received word that the slaves I sold to a trader were, in fact, given their freedom in the North. In New York, to be exact. We treated those slaves as part of our own family. Do you suppose they will get the same treatment by the Yankees?"

  The young man shuffled his feet and gave Brooke a sidelong glance. "No sir. I hear tell them Yanks work niggers to death in their factories, and they barely give them darkies enough to live on up there. Why, my cousin Billy says they are even forcing niggers into the war to fight us. But sir, Captain Forrester says we are also gettin' our own slaves into the regiment, and at least we shall keep our niggers fed!"

  "I'm glad you said that, son. After my slave family was stolen, I decided to start training slaves to fight for the South. We'll show them Yankees which system is best, won't we? Our niggers know their place is with the land and with their free white masters. We are all indebted to our coloreds, for without them, we would lose our Southern dignity. Without dignity, we are nothing!"

  "Yes sir! Long live Jefferson Davis!"

  "Good lad. Now you wait here, and I'll go write a reply for you."

  Chapter Twenty-One: Civil War Christmas

  December 25, 1861, Annapolis, Maryland

  John Ericsson had promised to spend Christmas with his Executive Officer, Lieutenant Greene. The construction of the Monitor was going well, and Ericsson was anxious to get away for a bit of rest and relaxation. Also, it would give him a chance to meet the parents of Dana Greene and his betrothed, Anna Cameron. Ericsson needed to link Greene's mind to the Monitor more effectively, and this would give him the chance to see what kind of family he had.

  Greene had invited the young steward, Chip Jefferson, but the lad had instead gone home with the new captain, John Worden. Worden promised to take Chip to see the training of the black soldiers on Mason's Island, and the boy became immediately enthralled with the prospect.

  The Greene estate was just outside Annapolis, and as Ericsson and his Lieutenant drove up in their surrey from the train station, the youngsters of the neighborhood and their animals greeted them
. Two black dogs yelped at the wheels, and a young boy of about twelve tried to climb aboard the back of the buggy, but Ericsson gave him such a scowl of disproval that he yelled loudly and jumped off, quickly becoming an anonymous face in the crowd of fifteen kids running alongside. Many of these children wore miniature versions of the blue and the gray uniforms of the Union and Confederate forces, as Maryland was still deeply divided on the war, even though it was "officially" a non-slave, Union state. The adult forces were building up around them, and the nervous energy expelled in their games of war was a precursor to the raging violence that would soon be part of their daily existence.

  The Greene mansion was a three-story colonial, with two huge, white, Greek columns holding up the frontal portico leading up into the estate. The family butler, a Negro with gray hair named Jeremiah, who smiled warmly when he spotted Dana, greeted the surrey.

  "Mistah Greene! Lawd in heaven, you made it home." Jeremiah said, motioning for the other two servants to get the luggage of the two guests.

  Greene and Ericsson climbed out of the surrey and Greene embraced Jeremiah warmly. The old servant had been with the family for twenty-eight years, and age had turned his head into close-cropped cotton. "Jeremiah, I want you to meet Captain John Ericsson. He's the inventor of the ship, which will soon defeat the Southern monster that's being constructed as we speak. And I will be its first executive officer!"

  A tall man, in a wide-brimmed fedora and bristling gray whiskers, came bounding down the stairs toward the two men. "Dana! My son!" cried Army General George S. Greene, clasping his large hands around his son's shoulders and beaming into his face. A graduate of West Point, General Greene was serving in the Union Army, and was himself home on leave.

  "How are you, Father? We've come to celebrate the season of joy with you. This, Father, is my superior, the famous inventor, Captain John Ericsson."

  "Yes, well now, I have been reading quite a lot about you, sir! Mister Ericsson's Folly, indeed!" he laughed, and Ericsson joined him in the laughter.