USS Monitor Center at the Mariner's Museum

It's an Ironclad Must-See for Naval History Buffs By STUART FERGUSON

". . . 'First duty, duty next, and duty last; Ay, Turret, rivet me here to duty fast! -- '
So nerved, you fought wisely and well;
And live, twice live in life and story;
But over your Monitor dirges swell,
In wind and wave that keep the rites of glory."

Newport News, Va.

Herman Melville's "In the Turret" should be updated: Wind and wave no longer have sole possession of the ironclad's glory. Now they must share it with the new USS Monitor Center, which opened here at the Mariner's Museum on March 9, the 145th anniversary of the Monitor's "duel" with the CSS Virginia (better known to history as the Merrimack). The duty-bound "you" of the poem is Lt. John L. Worden, who commanded the vessel until he was badly wounded during the battle of Hampton Roads. Lucky for him. He wasn't on board on Dec. 31, 1862, when the Monitor foundered off Cape Hatteras in 230 feet of water, with the loss of 16 men.

Melville's friend Nathaniel Hawthorne observed the ironclad just a few days after the battle and decided that "it could not be called a vessel at all; it was a machine. . . . A whole history of naval renown reaches its period, now that the Monitor comes smoking into view; while the billows dash over what seems her deck, and storms bury even her turret in green water as she burrows and snorts along, oftener under the surface than above." The 63,500-square-foot, $30 million facility does full justice to this moment, when, as the center's chief historian Craig Symonds aptly put it in his opening-night lecture, "history itself tipped on the fulcrum of technology."

A full-scale replica of the USS Monitor.
The race between the Union and Confederacy to see whose ironclad would be the first to put to sea, the two-day Battle of Hampton Roads (which ended in a draw), the brief subsequent careers of both ships, and the recovery of their artifacts are all clearly and cogently explained in the "Ironclad Revolution" exhibition through contemporary illustrations and paintings, personal mementos, films and interactive computer stations, and re-created interiors and exteriors. Click here to read more.

The genius of the Monitor's creator, the Swedish-born John Ericsson, is highlighted, as well as the bravery of officers like Worden and Frank Buchanan, the captain of the Virginia until he, too, was wounded in action. The day-to-day lives of the crews onboard are delved into, and for once the innovative Yankee (in the truest sense, for many were from New England) investors and politicos, as well as Ericsson's fellow engineers, get their due: Without their cunning the Monitor could not have been built in 100 days. Likewise, the courage and ingenuity of the archaeologists and Navy divers who made possible the Monitor's recovery are recounted.

I've visited great military and maritime exhibits from Paris, France, to Parris Island, but the USS Monitor Center is the most remarkable, informative and downright exciting history-museum experience I've ever had, with just the right combination of art, artifacts and technology. Curator Anna Gibson Holloway, her museum colleagues and the other consultants and collaborators are to be congratulated, including John B. Hightower, the museum's recently retired president and CEO, who oversaw much of the project. And the exhibition's Web site, www.monitorcenter.org, is a model resource.

The Monitor's wreck site was discovered in 1973, and declared the country's first marine sanctuary two years later. Since then, more than 1,200 objects have been recovered from the ship, from silverware, buttons and condiment bottles to its, literally, revolutionary gun turret and cannon. Five years ago, I watched as archaeologists from the Mariners' Museum and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration -- the museum's partner in the USS Monitor Center project -- excavated in the turret, which had then been moved to the museum but was still full of mud, coal and seashells, which occasionally would break free from the gunk and tumble into the turret's bottom (or really its top, since it sank -- and was recovered -- upside down).


A news clipping on the Battle of Hampton Roads.
Now the turret and its two 11-inch Dahlgren cannon, the Monitor's steam engine and condenser are being preserved in the state-of-the art Batten Conservation Laboratory, placed in special baths that leach the salt and stabilize the objects for future display -- by 2025. Museum-goers can peer into the tanks from catwalks just beyond the lab's windows.

In the meantime, no less than three replica versions of the turret are on view and more approachable. The first re-creates its briny state upon recovery from the Atlantic. The second shows the turret as it was when the Monitor was first launched from Brooklyn, N.Y., on Jan. 30, 1862 -- but with a section of the wall cut away to reveal the placement and operation of its guns. Finally, there's a full-scale, exterior replica of the Monitor with yet another turret; visitors may walk on its deck.

The insides of the Monitor have been re-created in the center's galleries. Hawthorne, who was given a tour below decks, wrote that he was "surprised at the extent and convenience of her interior accommodations" and said it was like finding a palace under the sea. The officers had private cabins with built-in beds and drawers; the accommodations were lit by small portholes in the deck above. The Monitor boasted the first underwater head (marine toilet) known to history. And the engines that turned the turret and propelled the ship are also discussed and represented by recovered bits and miniature working models.

Even if it doesn't get marquee billing, the Merrimack/Virginia is not ignored by the Monitor Center. A full-scale section of the Virginia as she appeared when converted from a sailing frigate (with auxiliary steam power) into an armor-plated screw-propelled battery and ram has been re-created. She was destroyed by her own crew on May 10, 1862, when Norfolk was taken by the Union army. At a length of 275 feet and a draft of 22 feet, the Virginia, with its 320 officers and men and 10 guns, was much larger than the 173-foot-long Monitor, with her crew of about 60. Visitors can cross a gangplank to her interior.

The actual plans of the CSS Virginia, drawn by naval architect John Luke Porter, along with his drafting tools and a section of the ship's iron plating are exhibited. Other Virginia artifacts on display in "Ironclad Revolution" include her steering wheel and a fragment of her flag.

Perhaps the oddest items on view are three images of the battle drawn by Charles Hazelwood Hasker, boatswain on the Virginia. Hasker was a competent enough draftsman; what's strange is that he would go on to also serve in the first crew of the doomed Confederate submarine H.L. Hunley, and was one of only three to survive when she sank on Aug. 29, 1863.

Central to the Monitor Center are its three you-are-there theaters. One puts viewers aboard the USS Rhode Island, which was towing the Monitor from Hampton Roads to North Carolina and witnessed its sinking; another auditorium shows nail-biting documentary footage of the 2002 U.S. Navy expedition that recovered the turret from the Atlantic. But the Battle Theater is even more thrilling, with elements reminiscent of both Ken Burns's PBS "Civil War" documentary and the 360-degree battle panoramas that were popular during the latter half of the 19th century. "Ironclad Glory," its 13-minute presentation produced by Pyramid Studios of Richmond, Va., is a deft blend of maps, impressive sound effects and amazing digital paintings, with a narration by actress Salome Jens that clearly explains the intricate maneuvers on March 8, 1862, as the Virginia wreaked havoc on the Union squadron, and March 9, when its nemesis steamed into Hampton Roads, and history.

Mr. Ferguson is a writer in North Carolina.