The first Sabine, a ship-rigged sailing frigate, was built at the New York Navy Yard. Her keel was laid in 1822, but she was not launched until 3 February 1855. During this period, she underwent various alterations, the most extensive being a lengthening of her hull by twenty feet. Built essentially from Brandywine plans, she was commissioned on 23 August 1858, Capt. Henry A. Adams in command.
Her first cruise took the frigate to Paraguay in October 1858 with an expeditionary force, commanded by Flag Officer William B. Shubrick, after that country's firing on the U.S.S. Water Witch. The expedition won the United States an indemnity, an apology, and a renewed treaty. Sabine then operated out of New York with the Home Fleet until July 1861.
Two American military officers recently traveled into the Nicaraguan jungle to seek out the forgotten graves of two Navy Sailors who died 144 years ago.
Research at the Naval Historical Center (NHC) on their deaths revealed some of the perils 19th century U.S. Sailors faced that would cause their modern counterparts to shudder.
U.S. Defense Attach, Army Col. Mike Rhea, and U.S. Marine/Naval Attach, Marine Maj. Carlos L. Olivo, were traveling by boat through San Juan Del Norte, Nicaragua, in early September.
They had been told of the existence of some very old U.S. Navy Sailor graves and were searching for them.
Through the suffocating humidity and heat, their guides led them over rivers and swamps to what the natives called an English Cemetery. Leaving the boats, the Americans were guided from an old wooden pier to a path in the jungle.
The trail led to an old cemetery. “Some bricks were evidently used to pave the path at one time, as was evident from a small portion that was still paved, but that is mostly gone now. The cemetery is about 300 yards into the triple canopy forest,” Olivo said.
Surrounded by the lush jungle, the cemetery was divided into three parts, the USS Sabine, British, and Catholic cemeteries. The USS Sabine section of the cemetery consisted of the 1859 tombstones of U.S. Navy Sailors John Burgess and Charles Smith.
Astonished by their find, Rhea and Olivo became intrigued by the mystery of the graves. Who were these two Sailors? What in the world were they doing in this part of the world in 1859? And how did they die?
To find the answers they quickly contacted the NHC’s senior historian, Dr. Edward Marolda, to find out more on the story of USS Sabine and its crew.
Dr. Michael Crawford, head of the NHC’s Early History Branch, knew of Sabine and did some more research. Fortunately, in the Navy Department Library’s rare books collection, was the book “Cruise of the U.S. Frigate Sabine” by Alexander Howard and printed in 1861.
Howard, who served aboard Sabine from 1858-59, had recorded the ships two South American voyages, and the accidental deaths of Burgess and Smith.
Sabine was a 48-56 gun, 1,726-ton frigate built in the New York Navy Yard. Although its keel was laid in 1822, it was not launched until 1855, 33 years later. But even then, owing to further required modifications, it was not commissioned until 1858.
Like most steam frigates [Note the error here, Sabine was a square rigger] of that time, its top speed was 12 knots, but it had an average cruising speed of only five knots.
June 25, 1859, after a maiden cruise to Paraguay to improve relations with that country, Sabine was sent back on a second South American cruise.
By Aug. 21, 1859, the ship was dispatched to Greytown (now San Juan del Norte), Nicaragua, to relieve another sloop-of-war, USS Jamestown.
At first, the voyage was very routine. When the Sailors were not on duty, Howard recorded “they usually occupy themselves in reading and writing, cutting and making clothes, playing at various innocent games, such as dominoes, checkers, backgammon and keene.”
But it was at this time, John Burgess was accidentally and instantly killed Sept. 23, 1859, when he fell off the ships mizzen-top.
The other casualty, Charles Smith, was killed Nov. 4, when as “Captain of Foretop," he was on the “top-sail hauling up brunt gasket, the lanyard attached to the gasket parted, Smith fell backwards off the yard; he struck on his head in the top, rolled through the lubbers hole, and lodged on foreyard.” He was “immediately lowered but ceased to breathe.” Oct. 5, a large procession including a large number of the crew and the band, laid Smith into his final resting place.
Sabine finally sailed for Pensacola, Fla., Jan. 29, 1861, finishing the ship’s second voyage. In April of that year, the American Civil War broke out, in which Sabine would eventually see considerable action, most notable in November 1861, when it rescued the crew and 500 Marines off the chartered troop transport Governor, during a violent storm off South Carolina.
“Deaths by accidents and disease were very typical of these times,” said Crawford. “This account of the Sabine reminds us that U.S. Navy Sailors in the mid-19th century were in very dangerous profession.”
The answers to Rhea and Olivio’s questions were transmitted to them, and the mystery was ultimately solved.
March 1861
Under secret orders from Secretary of the Navy Welles carried by Lieutenant Worden, Fort Pickens was reinforced by landing of troops under Captain Israel Vogdes, 1st U.S. Artillery, and Marines under First Lieutenant John C. Cash, from the squadron composed of U.S.S. Sabine, Captain H. A. Adams, Senior Officer Present, U.S.S. Brooklyn, Captain W. S. Walker, U.S.S. St. Louis, Commander Charles H. Poor, and U.S.S. Wyandotte, Lieutenant J. R. Madison Mullany.
At Pensacola Harbor, federal property consisted of a Navy Yard, two forts on the mainland, a military barracks, and Fort Pickens. Fort Pickens stood at the western edge of an island, running roughly parallel to the coastline and separated from it by Pensacola Bay. On January 10, 1861, the same day as Florida seceded from the Union, the small federal contingent at Pensacola took steps to defend federal property. Lieutenant Adam J. Slemmer, in charge of army troops and acting under authority from Washington, transferred his command from the mainland to Fort Pickens, a more defensible position, which provided relative easy reinforcement from the Gulf of Mexico. Two days later, Florida and Alabama troops took over all the mainland posts, but failed to dislodge the federal presence at Fort Pickens. Towards the latter part of January, reinforcements commanded by Captain Israel Vogdes were sent to the fort aboard the U.S.S. Brooklyn, a powerful steam powered warship. Additional naval support was also sent to Pensacola, including the recently built sailing frigate, the U.S.S. Sabine. Although these vessels arrived safely, the Brooklyn landed only provisions, not troops, at the fort. The explanation for this change of policy was an arrangement, or "truce," entered into by President Buchanan and Florida officials, by which Florida agreed not to attack the fort and, in return, the Brooklyn would not land its troops unless the fort were attacked or preparations made for its attack.
April 12 1861,
Following Lincoln's decision to reinforce Fort Pickens, thus breaking the Mallory-Buchanan Truce, The frigate USS Sabine with 44 mounted guns arrived in Pensacola Harbor and landed Union troops consisting of 86 men and a detachment of 115 marines at Fort Pickens. General Bragg (CSA) declares that a state of war exists at Pensacola.
May 13 1861,
Captain of the USS Sabine Captain H. A. Adams issued notice of the blockade at Pensacola, the first Atlantic port to be thus closed.
Through July and August, she was out of commission at Portsmouth Navy Yard. Recommissioning on 30 August, she was ordered to join the Atlantic Blockading Squadron on 9 September.
2 Nov 1861
U.S.S. Sabine, Captain Cadwalader Ringgold, rescued Major John G. Reynolds and a battalion of U.S. Marines under his command from U.S. transport Governor, unit of the Port Royal Sound Expedition, sinking off Georgetown, South Carolina.
NOVEMBER 18, 1861.
The following interesting letter was written by Leverett H. White, a son of Mr. Wm. S. White of this city, who is master’s mate on board the frigate Sabine. This frigate, it will be recollected, rescued some three or four hundred of our troops on board the steamer Governor, one of the transports of the great naval expedition to Port Royal, which was disabled in the storm, and the writer gives a vivid description of the manner in which those men were saved:
U. S. Ship Sabine, Nov. 9th, 1861.
Dear Father:
- This will in all probability give you more particulars of the loss of the “Governor” than you can get from the papers. On Friday, Nov. 1st, as the weather had every appearance of a blow, we got under way and stood out to sea; that night the wind was very high and all hands were kept on deck until 4 o’clock in the morning. At 10 o’clock we saw a sail standing for us and soon it changed and stood off, which looked suspicious, as she put on sail after sail. We immediately set all sail in chase, and as the wind and sea were high we went through the water faster than we ever did before. The brig was the fastest and was rapidly getting away from us, and we had almost made up our minds that she would escape. We soon saw two steamers, and one, which we could distinguish by a glass, had the stars and stripes at half mast and union down, as a signal of great distress. She appeared to be full of men. The other was a black propeller, and was steaming around the former. On our approach the brig stood back for us, and proved to be the “Young Rover,” one of our vessels of war. The first steamer was the “Governor,” chartered by government for a transport; the propeller was the “Isaac B. Smith,” one of our gunboats; all three belonged to the fleet that left Hampton Roads, on the 29th of Oct., on a secret expedition under Commodore Dupont, and were all scattered by the gale on the night before. The “Governor” came to anchor, and after some time we came to anchor ahead of her, and ran out all the cable on the starboard anchor, (160 fathoms), and then as we were not near enough to the “Governor” we made a hawser fast to the end of that cable and let it go. After dropping down a little distance we let go the port anchor with 200 fathoms of chain, and then were within about 100 feet of the “Governor.” The “Isaac B. Smith” came to anchor about 2 miles to leeward of us. Her Captain came on board in a boat, and after remaining some little time, tendered the u e of his boat for transporting the troops from the “Governor” to our ship, if we would set him on board his vessel.
I was delegated to take 8 men and return him and his men to his steamer, and then return with the boat and assist in removing the troops. I left the ship at 5 P. M., and after putting them on board the “Smith” started for our ship, but when about half way, the wind came up again, and we were gradually blown out to sea; we kept pulling for the ship, and did not stop to rest until half past 4 in the morning, when we saw a light standing direct for us. I hailed, and was heard; the ship hove too, and we were taken on board, wet to the skin. I made my report to the Captain, and was informed that I was on board the “Vandalia,” one of the sloops of war belonging to the fleet. It was estimated that we must be at least 30 miles from the ship, as I lost sight of the lights at the “Sabine’s” masthead at 12 o’clock, and I was obliged to steer by the stars. The “Vandalia” immediately changed her course in the direction I pointed out, and I turned in; I awoke and went on deck at 7 A. M., and at 8 saw the ship again. I got on board in due time, 1 o’clock, and every one was supprised to see me, as I had been given up as lost. I had been away from the ship twenty hours, but it was a long twenty hours to me. In the mean time the troops had all been taken on board excepting eight men, two of whom were cut in two by getting in the bite of the hawser, and when the sea lifted the steamer it hauled the hawser taut, and the poor fellows were killed instantly. The saved numbered 375 souls and a dog. Among the saved were Chas. A. Stillman, son of Allyn S. Stillman, and Robert W. Huntington; both were Lieutenants and belonged in Hartford. The most of the personal property was saved, and our preparations were made to set her on fire - and we were waiting for night to have the illumination, but at 4 o’clock she sank to the bottom.
I had forgotten to tell you what was the matter with her; she was a river steamer about the size of the “Granite State,” and at the first of the gale lost her smoke-pipe, which was carried over the side by the force of the wind. Both her hog-beams and braces were broken by the seas, which swept over her, and she soon sprang a leak in three different places. The men were kept bailing and pumping, and the sight of our noble frigate standing down to them must have been a welcome sight. By the time I had got on board the “Sabine” the “Smith” was out of sight, having sailed that morning after the “Governor” had sunk. We got under way and stood to the southward, for the Captain made up his mind to go down with the rest of the expedition. On the morning of Nov. 7th we came in sight of the fleet, and were soon becalmed, and heard heavy firing among the fleet and saw the smoke; by that we knew that the attack had commenced. It was to us one continual roar of cannon all day. Towards evening it ceased, and we could not tell whether we were victorious or not; but the fleet remained in its former position, and by that it was thought that we must have come out No. 1. The next morning we got under way and stood in until we thought the water grew shallow too fast, we came to anchor about eight miles from the fleet, and sent a boat ashore with the 1st Lieutenant. He came off yesterday morning with a steamer and took 252 of the marine troops ashore, and brought the news of our fleet’s success.
He said that as soon as the forts had surrendered they took leg-bail and left everything behind them, and among the papers found was a letter directed to the commanding officer at that place, telling him the time the fleet left Hampton Roads, and that it was destined to attack those forts, the number of sails and guns and all the officers. That shows that there is use for hemp-rope in the government service, for no one but some high officer could tell that the expedition was for that place. That is all I can tell you of the attack and capture of Port Royal. The harbor is a grand one, and the place and important one for us.
After the engagement a steamer came down the river from Charleston, loaded with troops, but one gun from our vessels hit her in the bows, and damaged her so she was run ashore, and the troops took the same leg-bail as the others. This morning a steamer came out and took the rest of the marines on shore, and we are all ready, as soon as the 1st luff returns, to up anchor for Hampton Roads or New York.
In 1862, a substantial portion of the crew of the ironclad Monitor came from volunteers from the Sabine.
March 1862
The search for U.S.S.Vermont , after the ship-of-the-line [Being used as a stores ship] had been badly damaged by a storm while sailing to Port Royal, S.C.
In November of 1862, the Sabine was dispatched to find the Confederate raider, the C.S.S. Alabama. The Sabine spent four months patrolling the shipping lanes just south of Long Island, protecting vessels bound to and from New York.
The crew then embarked on a much longer journey. In February of 1863, the Sabine was sent to the Cape Verde Islands off the coast of Africa. It was rumored that the Alabama was in these waters. The ship sailed as far south as the Cape of Good Hope, searching in vain for Confederate raiders. After several months, the Sabine returned to America.
Sabine returned to New York for blockade duty with the North Atlantic Squadron until ordered in August 1864 to Norfolk as a training ship for Navy apprentices and landsmen. After the war, she was transferred to New London for the same purpose until 1868.
During 1869 and 1870, she conducted midshipman training cruises to European and Mediterranean ports. In 1871, Sabine was repaired at Boston; and, from 1872 to 1876, she served as a receiving ship at Portsmouth, N.H.
In 1877, she was laid up until she was sold on 23 September 1883 at Portsmouth to J.L. Snow of Rockland, Maine.
USS Sabine Chaplain
Stroud's Civil War News Emporium is always interested in items relating to civil war era chaplains. (A particular interest, since the site's webmaster is a military chaplain himself.) Although it does not appear that Chaplain Thomas Salter actually saw duty during the war itself, 1866 found him in Navy uniform serving aboard the USS Sabine.
It appears that Chaplain Salter recognized some inequity in the manner in which Naval officers were paid. He addresses it in a letter which has come into the possession of the Emporium. The actual manuscript reads as follows:
U.S. Ship Sabine
New London Connecti[cutt]
Jan.y 20th 1866
My Dear Mr. Marston
If, in the proposed Legislation in regard to increase of pay for the Navy, there should be no provision for paying staff officers according to their assimilated rank (i.e. Line officers & Staff officers of the same rank recieving [sic] the same pay) I wish you would be pleased to move an amendment to that end. It would be less than justice inasmuch as Line officers are educated at the expense of the govt and Staff officers at their own. I hope also you will advocate two kinds of pay (instead of three according to present Law) vis. Duty pay and Leave of absence or waiting orders pay -- dropping "shore pay" altogether. The Engineer Corps are now paid upon that principle and it is the general wish of Navy officers that this principle should be adopted in any new pay bill.
Very truly and respectfully yours,
Thomas G. Salter
Chaplain, U.S.N.
ROCKLAND (Oct 2): The word is that people know about the house on 41 South Street. They know the house, which now belongs to Sam and Beth Ladley, once sat on the deck of a Civil-War era ship.
They know the small, solid wood doors and the window that slides into the wall in the kitchen are original to the building and that the Ladleys lived in a bus while they painstakingly pieced their unique home back together.
What isn't known is just how much American history the small building holds within its walls. The Ladleys know because renovating their home was like an archeological dig.
Sam Ladley has the history of his cozy home down pat; he can recite dates and events like he was there when they happened.
"Our house fought in the Civil War and crossed the Atlantic Ocean," said Sam. "It was the deckhouse on a 54-gun frigate in the Union Navy. The name of the ship was the USS Sabine and 100 years ago it was chopped up at Snow's Boatyard in Rockland's South End."
Construction of the Sabine began in a boatyard in Brooklyn, N.Y. in 1882. It took 32 years to complete the ship because just as it was being built, the Navy changed from sail-powered ships to steam.
"The ship was worked on only when the builders had the time, so when the Sabine was completed in 1854, it was the second-to-last sailing ship launched by the U.S. Navy," Sam said. [The last was USS Constellation
When the Ladleys first saw the small house, they say it looked like any other fisherman's house typically found on the coast of Maine.
"There was a loose stone foundation, exposed cloth wiring, sagging floors and no insulation, not to mention that the whole building was four inches out of square," Sam said. The lady who was selling the house had grown up there and casually mentioned to the couple that the kitchen of the house was made out of a boat.
It turns out the father of the lady who grew up in the house had worked in Snow's Shipyard. At that time, the shipyard was only 100 yards from the front of the little house.
"When we walked into the house, the curved ship's beams were exposed and the little attic space, which is now our bedroom after some renovations, had ship's decking for a floor and some of it still had the canvas tacked to it," Sam said.
Beth walked up the stairs, pointed to the floorboards and sure enough, the tack holes were still visible--authenticating the Ladleys' amazing story.
The Ladleys took on the project of renovating the house with full force; their first objective was to completely gut the inside of the 16-by-40-foot building. Inside, the house was divided into six small rooms ensconced in horsehair plaster.
"I was in charge of ripping out all the plaster," said Beth. "At first I did it gingerly and then I went at each wall with a vengeance."
As the process continued, the couple discovered the exposed beams in the kitchen actually ran through the entire length of the house and the walls were made from inch-thick beaded shiplap.
"Once all the plaster was removed, the original frame was obvious--it was a deckhouse of a huge ship," said Sam. "Behind the plaster was graffiti left by sailors from the 19th century."
Beth pointed to where a clock was now hanging on a wall and said that right where the clock was located, she and Sam had found a wooden peg.
"We actually found several wooden pegs all over the house, but what was interesting was the scuff marks on the wall where a coat had hung and swung back and forth with the motion of the sea," said Beth.
The couple said that in the middle of construction, they were also piecing together a historical puzzle. They discovered that in 1883, Israel Snow had towed the Sabine from Portsmouth to Rockland. A crew lifted the deckhouse off the ship when it was being dismantled and hauled the building to its current location, most likely with the help of sleds and steel cables.
"There were some holes bored into the side of the house and the holes showed some wear, which is what makes us think it was hauled," Sam said.
After further research the couple found that the entire house had been the midship galley house where the ship's cook made meals for as many as 400 sailors.
"An on-deck galley made sense on a warship because a kitchen fire could be tossed overboard easily whereas a kitchen in a galley below deck would put fire closer to the tons of gunpowder carried in the hold," Sam said.
When tearing off plaster and such, the couple-turned-construction-crew happened upon a section in the front, right part of the house that was painted black from ceiling to floor. There was also evidence of two doors on either side of the black area, which further baffled Beth and Sam.
"We had no idea why it had been painted this color, but after some research and creative thinking it occurred to us that this was a blackout room," Beth said.
During wartime, lights on a ship meant suicide. If you opened a door to a kitchen brightly lit by cooking fires, it would light up the sails, which could then be seen from miles away. This room allowed someone to come from the kitchen, close the door behind them and then open the second door to the deck without letting any light out.
Sam said the house was set on a massive sill made out of some of the huge oak beams that used to be the outer armor for navy frigates.
"The Constitution got her nickname, Old Ironsides, because cannonballs occasionally bounced off her oak tumblehomes; the sill under our house was made of the same kind of wood," Sam said.
In one place, Sam had to cut into a three-foot section of the sill, which took an entire day.
"At one point, it looks like the shipyard raised the house up onto the sill to make the ceilings higher," said Sam. "Another interesting point is that when we stripped the old shingles off the outside of the house, the exposed sill retained its original black hull."
The house the Ladleys live in has all the modern amenities. It is a beautiful, cozy testament to their hard work and dedication to keeping an important part of history alive.
The couple has found other remnants of the Sabine around Rockland. A smaller deckhouse from the ship made its way out to Metinic Island to be used as a shed and the Snow Shipyard made gavels for the Knox County Courthouse from Sabine's hull.
"Houses that incorporate materials found locally reflect the character of the community," said Sam. "They become a form of Folk Art and to me, the history that makes this little house of ours a bit funky, also makes it priceless."