Ossian D. Gorman
Ne’er had a scene of beauty smiled
On placid waters ‘neath the sun,
Like that on Hampton’s watery plain,
The fatal morn the fight begun.
Far toward the silvery Sewell shores,
Below the guns of Craney Isle,
Were seen our fleet advancing fast,
Beneath the sun’s auspicious smile.
Oh, fatal sight! the hostile hordes
Of Newport camp spread dire alarms:
The Cumberland for fight prepares–
The fierce marines now rush to arms.
The Merrimac, strong cladded o’er,
In quarters close begins her fire,
Nor fears the rushing hail of shot,
And deadly missiles swift and dire;
But, rushing on ‘mid smoke and flame,
And belching thunder long and loud,
Salutes the ship with bow austere,
And then withdraws in wreaths of cloud.
The work is done. The frigate turns
In agonizing, doubtful poise–
She sinks, she sinks! along the deck
Is heard a shrieking, wailing noise.
Engulfed beneath those placid waves
Disturbed by battle’s onward surge,
The crew is gone; the vessel sleeps,
And whistling bombshells sing her dirge.
The battle still is raging fierce:
The Congress, “high and dry” aground,
Maintains in vain her boasted power,
For now the gunboats flock around,
With “stars and bars” at mainmast reared,
And pour their lightning on the main,
While Merrimac, approaching fast
Sends forth her shell and hot-shot rain.
Meantime the Jamestown, gallant boat,
Engages strong redoubts at land–
While Patrick Henry glides along,
To board the Congress, still astrand.
This done, we turn intently on
The Minnesota, which replies,
With whizzing shell to Teuser’s gun,
Whose booming cleaves the distant skies.
The naval combat sounds anew;
The hostile fleets are not withdrawn,
Though night is closing earth and sea
In twilight’s pale and mystic dawn.
Strange whistling noises fill the air;
The powdered smoke looks dark as night,
And deadly, lurid flames, pour forth
Their radiance on the missiles’ flight;
Grand picture on the noisy waves!
The breezy zephyrs onward roam,
And echoing volleys float afar,
Disturbing Neptune’s coral home.
The victory’s ours, and let the world
Record Buchanan’s[1] name with pride;
The _crew is brave, the banner bright_,
That ruled the day when Hutter[2] died.
[1] Commander of the “Merrimac.”
[2] Midshipman on the “Patrick Henry.”
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem is built around contrast, and it leans on that contrast from the very first stanza. It opens with calm water, sunlight, and an almost postcard-like beauty. The scene is described as unusually peaceful, even generous, as if nature itself is offering approval. That calm is not just background; it sets up the shock of what follows. By stressing how beautiful the morning is, the poem makes the violence feel sharper and more intrusive, as though war has crashed into a place that did not invite it.
Once the fighting begins, the poem shifts into a more report-like mode. Ships are named, positions are tracked, and actions unfold in sequence. This gives the poem the feel of an eyewitness account or a narrative meant to document events rather than reflect on them. The Cumberland, the Congress, the Merrimac, and the surrounding gunboats are treated almost like characters, each entering the scene and performing a role. The poem’s loyalty is clear, but its method is descriptive rather than emotional at first. It wants the reader to see what happened, step by step.
The Merrimac dominates the poem, both in action and in tone. She is described as armored, fearless, and relentless, moving through smoke and fire without hesitation. The language used for her suggests inevitability. Shot and shell do not stop her; they barely register. This portrayal reinforces the idea of technological and strategic superiority, which was central to how this battle was understood at the time. The ship becomes a symbol of modern power reshaping warfare, even if the poem never states that outright.
When the Cumberland sinks, the poem briefly slows down and allows sound to take over. The cries of the crew and the image of the ship settling beneath the waves introduce a rare moment of human cost. Still, even here, the focus remains collective rather than individual. The crew is “gone,” absorbed into the sea, and the ship “sleeps.” Death is acknowledged, but it is folded into the larger spectacle of battle. The whistling bombshells singing a dirge is a striking image, but it also keeps the emphasis on atmosphere rather than grief.
As the battle continues, the poem becomes increasingly crowded. Multiple ships act at once, shells fly in all directions, and smoke and flame fill the air. The nightfall does not bring rest; instead, it intensifies the strangeness of the scene. Twilight, smoke, and fire blend together, creating an almost unreal setting. The sea becomes a stage for noise, light, and motion, with nature reacting to the violence rather than resisting it. Even Neptune’s domain is disturbed, suggesting that nothing remains untouched.
The poem repeatedly frames the battle as a visual spectacle. Phrases like “grand picture” and the attention to light, color, and movement make the conflict feel almost painterly. This aesthetic approach distances the reader slightly from the suffering involved. The emphasis is not on fear, confusion, or loss, but on scale and drama. War here is something to be witnessed and recorded, not questioned.
In the closing lines, the poem moves fully into commemoration. Victory is claimed without hesitation, and names are singled out for remembrance. Buchanan and Hutter serve as anchors for pride and sacrifice, giving the poem a sense of closure and purpose. The bravery of the crew and the brightness of the banner reaffirm the poem’s allegiance and its reason for being written.
Taken as a whole, the poem reads less like a meditation and more like a chronicle shaped by loyalty. It values clarity, momentum, and recognition over introspection. The beauty of the opening scene and the grandeur of the battle imagery work to frame the conflict as both tragic and triumphant, without lingering long on moral cost. Its strength lies in how clearly it captures how this battle was seen by those who celebrated it: as a turning point, a spectacle, and a source of lasting pride.