a small raft, with a "Yankee cheese-box" upon it. The idea at first did not enter their minds, that the insignificant little craft, whatever it might be, would venture to face their guns. But the Monitor steamed boldly onward toward its formidable antagonist, and, when at the distance of about half a mile, Lieut. Worden, who had taken his position in the pilothouse, gave the order to fire. The gun was aimed, the huge iron pendulum swung aside, the men sprang to the gun-ropes, a momentary creaking of pulleys was heard, then a thundering report, and a solid ball, weighing a hundred and seventy pounds, was hurled against the mailed side of the Merrimac. The Monitor had uttered her maiden speech, and it was a challenge which no antagonist could venture to disregard.

The Merrimac paused in utter astonishment, being scarcely able to discern her distant and diminutive adversary. But the gauntlet thus thrown, the scornful rebel was compelled to accept. She then turned upon the Monitor, to demolish a foe unworthy of her notice, but whose audacity had provoked her ire. Drawing near the little floating turret, at the range of but a few yards, she poured in one of her terrible broadsides, sure that after such a discharge, the Monitor might be sought for in vain. But as the smoke lifted behold the turret unharmed. As well fire at a phantom. Astounded and enraged at the failure, the Merrimac now ran, "head on, full tilt" upon the Monitor, to ride over her, and sink her to the bottom of the bay. "Reserve your fire," said Lieut. Worden to the gunners, "aim deliberately, and do not lose a shot." It was now Greek meeting Greek; iron against iron. Hundred pound shot rattled against the mailed and impenetrable sides of the combatants, in this tremendous duel, and glanced off like hail. Never before had ships met, carrying such heavy guns. From both vessels the firing was executed with great rapidity, and with equal skill. The little Monitor was superior in speed to the Merrimac, and steamed around her mammoth antagonist, almost as a hornet would attack a bull. The turret turned with perfect ease, so that in whatever direction the battery was heading, the two guns were always pointing at the foe. Lieut. Worden, in the pilot-house, had a good lookout through the iron gratings, and gave the directions, through speaking tubes, to Lieut. Green, who commanded the gunners in the

tower.

can."

At one time, when the vessels were almost touching each other, Lieut. Green trained his gun on the Merrimac's water line. The shot struck, exactly where it was aimed, and apparently penetrated the ship. "Splendid, sir! splendid, sir!" exclaimed Lieut. Worden, through his tubes. "You made the iron fly. You cannot do better, but fire as rapidly as you A shot from the Merrimac, weighing 100 pounds, striking the turret fair and square, would produce a concussion which occasionally knocked the men down, but causing no other injury. The Merrimac, in her attempt to run down the Monitor, failed entirely. She struck her antagonist fairly and at full speed, causing, however, but a slight jar. By the collision the prow of the Merrimac was broken, and her mail cut through by the sharp edge of the Monitor, causing a bad leak. In the desperation of the fight the ships closed, actually touching sides, hurling shot and shell at

each other with demoniac energy. But these cast-iron missiles glanced or crumbled to powder. The rebel Yorktown at one time attempted to interfere. A single 170-pound shot, from the Monitor, passed through the traitor, and sent him home to haye his wounds bandaged. The contest was, for a time, so hot, the muzzles of the hostile guns almost touching each other, that both ships were enveloped in a cloud of smoke, which no eye could penetrate. Flash and thunder-roar burst forth incessantly from the tumultuous maelstrom of darkness, and solid balls, weighing 170 pounds, glancing from the armor, ricochetted over the water, in all directions, for one and two miles. Such bolts were never hurled from the fabled hands of Jupiter Olympus.

Thus this duel raged with unintermitted fury for four long hours. The Monitor, at but a few yards' distance, steamed around her foe, planting a ball here, and a ball there, eagerly searching to find some vital spot. She tried her rudder, her sides, her screw, just above the water line, just below the water line. In some of these efforts she was successful, and at length three gaping holes were visible, and the Merrimac was evidently sinking. The rebel was whipped; and firing his last gun, turned to run away. Unfortunately, just at that moment, as Lieut. Worden was looking out, at the iron grating of the pilot-house, a hundred-pound shot struck pointblank upon the grating, just before his eyes. The concussion knocked him prostrate, and for the moment, senseless. He was also entirely blinded by the minute fragments of iron and powder driven into his eyes, inflicting an injury from which he can never wholly recover. This occasioned momentary confusion, until the command was assumed by Lieut. Green. The Merrimac, which had entered the conflict with a spirit so proud and defiant, was now limping on the retreat thoroughly whipped and humiliated. As so much depended upon the single Monitor, it was not deemed wise to expose her to any risks not actually necessary. She had, therefore, received orders to act strictly on the defensive, and by no means to leave the immediate vicinity of the fleet. She, however, pursued her disabled foe a short distance, throwing into her a few parting military benedictions, and then left her to seek refuge in her rebel anchorage. As Lieut. Worden, after a time, revived from the stunning blow he had received, his first question was, "Have I saved the Minnesota ?" "Yes," was the reply," and whipped the Merrimac." "Then," he rejoined, “I care not what becomes of me."

It was a glorious victory. Thousands and tens of thousands on the shore, from Fortress Monroe, Newport News and all the rebel batteries, were watching the conflict. No tongue can tell the joy which thrilled the hearts of the National troops at the result. Cheer after cheer rose from the fleet and from the fortress, and rolled like reverberating thunder along the shores, and over the bay. The shattered Merrimac was soon met by two rebel steam-tugs, who took her in their arms, and bore her fainting and dying to Norfolk. Her injuries were vital. After the efforts of months to repair them, she did not venture to leave her hospital, again to face her foe, until, as we shall hereafter have occasion to describe, in the excess of chagrin and despair, she committed suicide.

The Monitor was entirely uninjured.

She was struck twenty-two

times on all parts of her. The indentations were so slight that a fresh coat of paint almost rendered them invisible, with the exception of the pilot-house, where a ball striking, bent and cracked a huge iron beam, nine inches by twelve, pressing it inward one and a half inches. Where the prow of the Merrimac came in contact with the side of the Monitor, an insignificant dent on the outside was the only mark of the encounter. No official report of the losses on board the Merrimac was ever published. The Norfolk Day Book stated that nine were killed and eleven wounded. Others of the rebel papers denied that there was any loss of life. The Minnesota was subsequently got off the shoal, having received no material damage.

Before the Monitor sailed, Capt. Ericsson told the officers particularly to instruct the men not to be frightened at the terrible concussions of the enemy's balls against the outside of the turret. It might stun, but it would not hurt them. The concussion of shot, weighing 100 pounds, moving at the rate of a third of a mile a second, and striking a hollow, iron-cased chamber, within a foot of a man's head, can hardly be imagined. Castiron shot, striking fairly the iron mail, will crumble almost to powder. The Monitor carried out fifty wrought-iron shot. But orders were issued that they should not be used. They were exactly fitted to the bore of the guns, and it was feared that, by their expansion at the moment of being fired, they might burst the guns. Others were subsequently made, a little smaller, which would allow of expansion. The Monitor drew but ten feet water, and could consequently go almost anywhere.

One is not a little perplexed to know what comment to make upon this whole affair. The providential arrival of the Monitor, just at that hour, saved the national cause from a disaster which one shudders to contemplate. And yet it had been known for months, that the Merrimac was in progress. Three weeks before she appeared, it is stated that Gen. Wool, at Fortress Monroe, sent word both to the War and Navy Departments, that she would soon come out, giving an accurate description, which he had obtained from a trustworthy source, of her build and armament, and stating that there was nothing at Hampton Roads which could present any resistance. The Government, in consequence of this want of preparation, lost two of our finest frigates, including property to the amount of two or three millions of dollars, and about two hundred valuable lives. And, but for the private enterprise which devised and pushed forward the Monitor, national disasters might have ensued which can hardly be exaggerated.

The night succeeding the battle, there was another scene of horror. At midnight, the thousands at Fortress Monroe were awakened by fearful cries from the water of "Fire! fire! O God save us!" They rushed to the shore. At a little distance, the national gun-boat Whitehall was all in flames. There were no boats near the camp. There seemed to be no hope for the crew, but to be burned or drowned. It was a terrible sight, as the whole scene was illumined as with the light of day by the fire. The balls from shotted guns of the burning steamer were flying in all directions, endangering those who looked on. One shell struck the hospital, causing fearful terror,-as the inmates supposed that the dreaded Merrimac had returned, and was shelling the forts. The conflagration