Oh, we got a ship and we got the helmet. That's not bad. It's not bad.  See what this thing looks like on?  Um, let's take a look at that ship. Hold up. Oh, I thought I already had it. I thought I already had it then. The invisible hand. Now, I've definitely seen it before whether I've had it before. I'm not quite sure. It's still badass though. Okay, so now we have my Hunter's PvP rank 49. 49!  Please Shaxx.  Like four packages in a row.    Okay, so now we have my Warlock's PvP rank 22. Still after that sniper rifle. That longbow.   What haven't got them though? Still, still we don't want boots. We want weapons! Okay, so now we have my dead orbit rank 12 on my Warlock. Now, I would really like a piece of armor or a weapon I don't have. Um, let's see. Oh, I got the helmet. Same emblem I've had a million times. Put the helmet. Let's have a look at this bad boy. Dispector Heliport's hood. That looks okay. Let's have a look at my dead orbit shirt. I've got one on me. Yes, I have. Oh, looking badass.  Loving that. Okay, so now we have my Warlock's PvP rank 23.  Let's get you back out there.  Almost choked then.  I mean like really, really checks. Okay, so now we have my Warlock's Vanguard rank 202. And I need a decent sniper. I'd be happy with a shadow prize or a decent road conspiracy theory. But let's see what we get. An answering cord. The auto rifle.  Ooh, we got a focus, focus fire. How would that be on this? We've got auto frame. Perfect balance. Light weight. Marine force barrel. And focus fire. I'm about to try this out. This could be a little jammy. Never know. You just never know. Okay, so now we have my Warlock's dead orbit rank 13.  Please, Mr. Dead Orbit. Man, let's see. Ooh, I've got a boots. Ooh, that's not bad. That's not bad. I will hold off a minute. Ah, I've already got him. I didn't even realise.  But I think my new ones are better than the old ones. So I guess I'll just get me the old ones. Not bad. Not bad, I suppose. Okay, so now we have my Hunter's Vanguard rank. I think this could be 43. It's 43 or 44. One added two. Now I need a decent Sniper. Please, K6. Give me that Sniper. Audio, 1,000 yards there. I'd be happy with a Shadow Price. I'm gonna get you. Please.  This is that fast. I knew it was. Ooh, we've got persistence. I don't know. What else we've got? Smudge control, soft ballistics. We've got danger colosses. Fit stuck, hand laid stuck. Will of light and persistence. Okay, so we now have my Hunter's new Monarchy rank. 45. 40 bad. Now give me an arm piece, please. What I ain't got.   Having got the chest piece. And I am happy with that. I am happy with that. I really am. Now I need the gauntlets and the legs. And we are all geared up in that new Monarchy sexiness. That new Monarchy sexiness. I mean, look at that. Look, super ups. Need the gauntlets and the legs done. But other than that, looking beautiful. Okay, so we now have my Hunter's PvP rank. 50. Now you guys probably know I got a decent Sniper from a Blue Engram. Now all I need is now the other one. I got was 1,000 yaks there. Isn't the best.  Like seriously.  That is some utter Billy Bullocks. It really is. Well, that's not too bad to be honest. It's not too bad. Might keep that. Okay, so we now have my Hunter's Vanguard rank 45. As you can see, I've got a decent Audi. I'm not the best, so I wouldn't mind another one. I got the model, the one I got from a Blue Engram. You guys probably saw the reaction on my channel. Oh, wow. And I'm sure I've already got this. Is it going to give me the same old, same old? Same old, same old.  Come from a Blue Engram. Yeah, all these packages I'm opening.  What an order, bollocks. Okay, so we now have my Hunter's New Monarchy rank 46. Now we'll need the gauntlets and leg armors. A few weapons I ain't got as well. But gauntlets and leg armors. Oh, my days. I had that emblem before, but I got a Sniper. Oh, I've still got the Sniper as well. Oh, wow. Look at each roll. Private eye. If you don't try and see how I can last back home, you'll see. Good job.  And that's what I think about that. Yeah, I've already got that total. Somewhere. Well, I've already had it anyway, maybe. Okay, so now we have my Hunter's Cryptacle rank 205. 205. Gotta be worth a Legendary.  And a emblem. Not bad at all. So let's just open these blues first. What I'm going to get from this primary. The Antipole behind sight. Third art. Oh, geez. Grow and play. Lightweight. Old frame. Reinforce barrel.  It's garbage, man.  Okay, so we now have my Hunter's PVP rank 51. And I'm still after a decent Lungbow. I've got 81,000 yards to save, but I want a Lungbow. Please, Mr. Sharks. Really?  I actually got one. Watch it have a terrible roll. Watch it have a terrible roll. Oh my days. Please have that ambush scope. Slash resort. Quick draw. Rifle barrel. Oiled frame. And spray and play. You know what?  That's not too bad at all. I've got the ambush scope on a Lungbow. I can't believe it.   I'll just know it. I'll keep getting these motherfuckers. Okay, so I have five more fucking. Oh, six. I've got six. The early and treasure package is too open. Now these are from the past couple of weeks. So hopefully I can get some taking. I've got full taking getting out on my Hunter. Now I need it on my Titan.  Okay, so, oh, Spectre Gong. I haven't got them on my Titan. To be honest, I don't think I've got Spectre. Let me have a quick look. Let me just have a quick, quick look. Okay, so I've got the helmet. I've now got the gauntlets. Let's put them all on. Because Titans do look sexy in these. Oh, I've got the chest places pieces as well. I ain't got the gauntlets. And I don't think I've got the class item either. So that's what I need. Oh, look how sexy he looks. Damn! Damn! I've got five packages left. I wouldn't mind taking gear though as well. I've got the helmet again. Really? That would just be dismantling. Gauntlets again. Come on. Game. Give me that tick and gear. Excuse me.  It's just going through what I've already got in it. Wait, I've got that as well? Why are you giving me shit?  Oh, and I've got that left for the Warlock at now. So all in all, that's an absolute logoballock. So yes, I've got that already. As you can see, hand cannon, pull through rifle.  Let's get this. Let's see, you know what?  Give me the gauntlets. I've already got hand cannon speed and auto rifles. I use, to be honest, I use hand cannons more than auto rifles because of my, I use a Luna. And we have this helmet here. I'm playing shall we pick up an orb? You know what?  No, I'm getting bored of them all for these because I don't need them. Just for that groma, groma movement. And that is it guys. I'm actually going to, because this is a part of a massive package opening video and I'm going to end it with this because I think there's been about at least 35 other packages I've opened. So if you did enjoy the video, do smash that like button. I do appreciate the support. If you like seeing these package opening videos done like this in a mass opening, let me know down below. Thanks again for stopping by and I'll catch you on that next one. Peace out till next time. Peace.


Many lakes area business owners enjoyed their breakfast this morning while interacting with their local legislators discussing issues that affect business in the area. Our Anthony Scott has more on the annual eggs and issues event. We cover issues related to business jobs in the economy, a lot of different businesses here today, a lot of different sectors, and we covered a lot of topics that really matter in the state of Minnesota. The three major topics at the breakfast were health care for employees, taxes, and the shortage in the workforce. Workforce issues up in our neck of the woods are tough. We have a lot of young people that are going to four-year college just because they believe they have to to get a good job, and that's not necessarily true. Post and said that the lakes area desperately needs workers that have a specific trade. Technical schools in the area are doing a good job preparing workers for the workforce, but more students have to be interested in learning trades. The next topic of discussion was the economy and taxes. This economy here in Minnesota is really been very very very strong. We got to be very careful going forward that we make sure we're watching spending. We're not just going to go ahead and hey it's a free for all we have a surplus. No we got to be very cautious and make sure that we have a great balanced budget. The almost one and a half billion dollar surplus could mean lower taxes for businesses in the future. Everybody's concerned about taxes and we need to do some things with the surplus or over taxation you know to bring to bring our taxes down hopefully. The lower taxes could result in more businesses thriving and to help businesses attract more customers the Brainerd Chamber of Commerce president discussed the National Loone Center which could be built as soon as 2022 attracting visitors from all over. 80,000 year-round tourists that are coming in to the community every single year they're learning about our state bird they're learning about conservation and they're also patronizing our businesses so it's really a win-win situation. Today's eggs and issues event was also a win-win for business owners and legislators. This is always a great event the legislators love coming to it the business people I think like coming and like the interaction and like I said earlier we all learn a lot. Now the state representatives will take what they learned from today's meeting and hopefully push the ideas forward at the Capitol. Reporting from Brainerd Anthony Scott Lakeland News. State representatives and state senators at that eggs and issues breakfast want to hear from the public and encourage anyone to reach out to them via email if they have any questions or concerns. If you enjoyed this segment of Lakeland News please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to Lakeland PBS.


native GTK stuff, all right, running on VGA, what it works. So what's native right now in the existing releases? We've been native GTK file dialogue and that's been native forever. The most recent releases and the GTK 3 back end are tooltips, they're now native tooltips. We just tell GTK where the tooltip is for and what the text is and GTK itself renders a tooltip. So that means that if you have the case where you have two screens side by side and the tooltip is cut off, that's a GTK issue, it's not a LibreOffice issue. And then also additionally we're now using popovers for some of the things that used to be tooltips. They're a little bit different in GTK 3 and they have a little indicator that points down to what the thing being pointed to is. They're pretty nice, we have them for formula type ahead in calc and the page indicator in the impress slide pane. The original motivation for making them native was that the under whaling is very difficult to do your own tooltip style of things. So just use the GTK ones and reuse them. What else is native? The app menu which is available in ergonome is fully native of course. Our context menus are now native. If you right click on something we actually have real GTK menus there and the menu bar is now a native GTK 3 menu bar and obviously the menus within it are native GTK 3 as well and that derives out of the unity work that was done there a couple of years ago. So all of the menu positioning stuff is all native GTK so if your menu won't fit in the height available of the screen the fallback there is a GTK native fallback. So it's the GTK positioning and the GTK behavior for what happens if something doesn't fit in so all those bugs can go to toolkit rather than to us. What's not native? All of these special effects are all just open GL on whaling to show that it's flicker free. I showed them last year and they were flickery. This year they don't flicker. So what do we actually do for everything else that makes it look like it's native? Everything else is actually not native, it's our own toolkit but we use the GTK APIs to render their widgets to our actual locations where we pretend our widgets are. So it's never quite right. You have all these APIs that are fine but you have to set up the context the style context quite right to map our state to GTK state. So obviously for a radio button you'd say that it's selected or not selected and then it'll render it into the space that you set out that you want it rendered into. But you have to get the size right as well. You have to clear your GTK. What size should a radio button be in GTK? Figure that size out and then tell GTK to render into it. So if you get the size wrong, you get little artifacts that you'll see on some of our areas where it's not quite right. You also have to use the right calls so you might get them wrong. It's quite complicated set of affairs. And the actual stuff that's available for use outside the toolkit is no longer quite the stuff that's being used inside the toolkit. So you're using maybe context, style context that aren't quite right to try and get the effect that you're hoping for. So it never really quite works, but you were pretty close but it's not quite right. So we've been getting a lot of this stuff wrong. A little bit wrong anyway. So back story then. The UI descriptions where we've come from. All of our dialogues you'd just be described in a SRC file format where every widget was a fixed size. Everything was measured in arbitrary character cell widths. And then again there was when you load the UI under German it would multiply everything by 105% to get a little bit bigger because German tends to be a bit longer. If you open up the same dialogues in the Japanese it would divide it by some amount because those takes tend to be quite small. So you have this kind of guesstimate arbitrary stuff going on here and there's no GUI editor for all this old stuff. So we've come from there to a situation where we're now using the GTK builder file format and all our UI is described in terms of GTK widgets. We're not using GTK widgets. We're using our own VCL widgets but we have described everything in the GTK file format and then we're mapping that at load time with our own .UI GTK builder file format with our own loader. We added in some resizable widgets equivalence to the GTK grade GTK box. So now we have widgets that contain other widgets and then they dynamically size and position them according to the constraints that you can describe in the grade GUI editor. So the results of all that is that you've got about a thousand UI files and apparently we have like about eight accessibility bugs in each one but they can be fixed in grade. So that's the .UI file. So everything is now described in the GTK style file format but mapped at load time for our own widgets. The translations then are, yet again, were in our own custom file format. The same SRC file format and the output here is a res binary file. Each translation is indexed by a unique ID and it's all converted to relatively standard PO to go up to the website to be translated there to be brought back down and then converted back out into our own custom file format as well. And then when we converted everything over to this .UI file for the dynamic layout and the new description we had to keep a lot of this stuff and we have a little bodge there so that we run those translations through the old translation system and back again. So that's the old translation format. What we've done at this stage for 6.0, I think, is that we have finally gotten rid of that file format and we're now using the more standard get text file format. So that means that with get text we can extract our translations directly from our .UI files and from our C++ with the standard tooling for that. So we use get text to put out the tooling. Then we have our .PO files which are now directly created from the translations. They can go up to the website, back down from the website and then we can use get text to create the standard .MO output file format. And then we're using the boost get text implementation to read them. So the old translation format is gone and the new translation format is the standard get text file format. So that's 22,000 odd translations. So 1,000 UI files and 22,000 translations taken from the old binary file formats converted into the .UI XML file format and to a binary but standardized get text MO file format. The consequence of moving all of the UI descriptions and the translations out of those file formats into standardized file formats is that the dialogues are mostly GDK compatible in the sense that you can use Glade Previewer on any of our .UI files, put the .MO files from our translations into the patch where they can find them and you can use Glade Previewer to look at a localized version of any of our .UI files which should mean that if we were to deploy that Deckard Web utility for displaying translations in a .UI file as translators, modify them that should work in the majority of cases out of the box now. So obviously we're kind of hoping to go at all this. It is possible to load those .UI files natively with GDK, with its own GDK Builder API by passing our re-implementation of that and because GDK handles the get text file format let GDK load those .MO files and then come up with a kind of a compatibility layer where we would bind to those native GDK widgets rather than using our own VCL widgets which are basically then emulating those GDK widgets at runtime and then we'd take our entire existing stack that currently works and just keep that as a fallback case for guys under windows and the other ones and for the non-GDK case for the GDK case we'd use this alternative. Now let's do a walkthrough of my development version which first shows a native GDK menu fitting on screen as best it can and I will just show in case anybody hasn't seen it a pop-over that's what I'm talking about now that's a pop-over there that's a native GDK pop-over that's just a native GDK thingy the toolbars are native of course and we will go for a simple one first, more breaks and search manual break but this is then is a native GDK this one has been loaded by the native GDK loader they can both exist at the same time so this one dialog is using the native GDK stuff and the other dialog except for one or two other ones are using our fallback VCL one so what difference does it make if you keep an eye on the gradient button on the top left fades in, rather than come straight in fades in, fades in if I change to a different style and I change the file number here when I have gone down to the minimum allowed value it has grayed out the left button and left the other one ungray in our implementation we would have left them both clickable and would be an example of where we get things wrong again if we move back here and I hit this page break one this should fade in gently rather than coming in hard and then all these things are native and fully in and it works of course it works, now the style insert table has a bit more detail again gently fades in fades out when you get to that level and it might be, there we go and so on and so forth so it all just works and it's needed now what's maybe a little more interesting as well is that they're all standard widgets now what do we do for the custom case now this is another native GTK dialog loading up the .uifile that we currently are effectively using now first look at that none to the false style all these guys are going to fade in at the same time they all fade in and the right hand side then is a custom widget so for handling the case of a custom widget that's a GTK drawing area let's go back then where we draw on to our own existing output devices and then when the GTK drawing area needs to refresh it can take from our existing output device and convert it to its own so they're all native and they all work let's go back to the thingy for the conclusions yeah walk through yeah so there's a half way house API some of the problems though is that the dialogs will not be usable directly without some modification of the .uifiles because we have our implementation and GTK has its implementation there are some divergent areas where we have to modify our uifiles for some of the quirks between our two different loading implementations one minor one is like radio buttons in our case we have radio buttons and we link them to each other in a circle to make it work under GTK you have to link the inactive ones to the active one so there are changes like that and there's a whole bunch of smaller details as well where we have to modify the uifiles hopefully in a pretty much three quarters automatically kind of a way one small one is where we have our buttons on the right-hand side we're just going to have to put them on the bottom but we want to put them on the bottom anyway so there's no final things there some gotchas and the gotchas I described there and there's some difficulties where some parts of VCL have leaked out through the UNO API so you can have an up-down handlers follow the plus-minus buttons and spin buttons for the up-and-down there there isn't an existing and equivalent one in GTK so they'll have to be able to work on interfacing the existing UNO stuff that has leaked out that should never really have leaked out and there'll have to be some amount of UNO support as well to tunnel the dialogues through and one of the things that we probably need to do is we need to move those extended tips out of help and into the .UI files I think we want to do this for ages and it's still a good idea but the translators have been through a lot of pain so I don't want to put them through any more misery but that might happen anyway with the help changes if the help goes the tooltips aren't there so something will have to happen and if we stick with the model of we need a file back then we're limited only to GTK widgets that exist as equivalents to our own VCL widgets we would have to remain within the subset of the existing implementation unless we went down the line to just try and use GTK under all platforms and get rid of our toolkit and then we could use whatever be available but for the moment I'm just limiting it to what we already support okay thank you any questions? if any questions or concerns yeah you can


Introduction of the Monitor and the Merrimack, both sides of the story. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Jeffrey Smith, New Orleans, Louisiana. The Monitor and the Merrimack, both sides of the story by John Warden. Introduction. This is the first-hand story of what was done and seen and felt on each side in the Battle of the Monitor and the Merrimack. The actual experiences on both vessels are pictured, in one case by the Commander of the Monitor, then a Lieutenant, and the next in rank, Lieutenant Green, and in the other by Chief Engineer Ramsey of the Merrimack. Clearly such a record of personal experiences has a place by itself in the literature of the subject. It is quite unnecessary to dwell upon the various controversies which this battle has involved. As to the first use of armor, we know that France experimented with floating armored batteries in the Crimean War, and England had armored ships before 1862. As to the invention of the moveable turret, which has been a bone of contention, the pages of Colonel Church's life of John Erickson and other books are open to the curious. The struggle of Erickson to obtain official recognition, the raising of money, the hasty equipment of the Monitor, and the restraining orders under which she fought form a story supplementary to the battle, but of peculiar interest. The Monitor was ordered to act on the defensive. It was her mission first to protect the wooden ships. That explains certain misconceptions of her cautious attitude, and the fact that the powder charges for her Dalgren guns were officially limited to 15 pounds, although 30 and even 50 pounds were used with safety afterward. Invite speculation upon the results if she had fought with a free hand. But the main result was reached. The Union Fleet was saved. The career of the Merrimack was checked. No Union vessel was destroyed after the Monitor appeared. It seems proper to note these facts here, in view of the fact that Mr. Ramsey's fresh and striking story of the Merrimack, which is presented for the first time, features upon the details of the battle more fully than the narrative of Lieutenant Warden and Lieutenant Green. Fortunately, the discussion has become academic in the half-century that has passed since southern cheers over the first conquests of the Merrimack faltered before the acclaim which greeted the Monitor's achievement of her task. One may disagree with the phrasing of various historians on both sides. One may find it difficult to accept the inscription upon the shaft of the Merrimack outside the Confederate White House in Richmond. But no American can seize to wonder at the fortitude and daring of those other Americans who fought to the death in those hastily improvised crafts, bearing the brunt not only of battle, but of a strange and terrible experiment. It is not an argument that this book offers, but a saga of heroes, an illumination of qualities which have made our history in times of crisis. The year of this battle witnessed the destruction of both vessels engaged. Mr. Ramsey describes the blowing up of the Merrimack. An eyewitness of the sinking of the Monitor off Hatteras, Rear Admiral E. W. Watson, who was an officer of the Rhode Island, which was towing the Monitor on that eventful night, has very kindly written a brief description of the tragedy for this book. The publisher's desire to make acknowledgement to the representatives of the late Lucius E. Chittenden for the use of part one of this book, which appears in Mr. Chittenden's most interesting volume, Recollections of President Lincoln and his Administration. End of introduction. Chapter One of the Monitor and the Merrimack Both Sides of the Story by John Warden This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Jeffrey Smith, New Orleans, Louisiana. Chapter One, The Monitor and the Merrimack Told by Lieutenant Warden and Lieutenant S. D. Green of the Monitor Some weeks after the historic battle between the Monitor and the Merrimack in Hampton Roads on March 9, 1862, the former vessel came to the Washington Navy Yard unchanged in the same condition as when she discharged her parting shot at the Merrimack. There she lay until her heroic commander had so far recovered from his injuries as to be able to rejoin his vessel. All leaves of absence had been revoked, the absentees had returned, and were ready to welcome their captain. President Lincoln, Captain Fox, and a limited number of Captain Warden's personal friends had been invited to his informal reception. Lieutenant Green received the President and the guests. He was a boy in years, not too young to volunteer, however, when volunteers were scarce and to fight the Merrimack during the last half of the battle after the captain was disabled. The President and the other guests stood on the deck near the turret. Captain were formed in lines with their officers a little in advance when Captain Warden ascended the gangway. The heavy guns in the Navy Yard began firing the customary salute when he stepped upon the deck. One side of his face was permanently blackened by the powder shot into it from the muzzle of a cannon carrying a shell of 100 pounds weight, charged less than 20 yards away. The President advanced to welcome him and introduced him to the few strangers present. The officers and men passed in review and were dismissed. Then there was a scene worth witnessing. The old Tars swarmed around their loved Captain. They grasped his hand, crowded to touch him, thanked God for his recovery and return, and invoked blessings upon his head in the name of all the saints in the calendar. He called them by their names, had a pleasant word for each of them, and for a few moments we looked upon an exhibition of a species of affection that could only have been the product of a common danger. When order was restored, the President gave a brief sketch of Captain Warden's career. Commodore Paulding had been the first. Captain Warden, the second officer of the Navy, he said, to give an unqualified opinion in favor of armored vessels. Their opinions had been influential with him and with the Board of Construction. Captain Warden had volunteered to take command of the Monitor at the risk of his life and reputation before the keel was laid. He had watched her construction, and his energy had made it possible to send her to sea in time to arrest the destructive operations of the Merrimack. What he had done with a new crew and a vessel of novel construction, we all knew. He, the President, cordially acknowledged his indebtedness to Captain Warden, and he hoped the whole country would unite in the feeling of obligation. The debt was a heavy one, and would not be repudiated when its nature was understood. The details of the first battle between ironclads would interest everyone. At the request of Captain Fox, Captain Warden had consented to give an account of his voyage from New York to Hampton Roads, and of what had afterward happened there on board the Monitor. In an easy conversational manner, without any effort at display, Captain Warden told the story of which the following is the substance. I suppose he began that everyone knows that we left New York Harbor in some haste. We had information that the Merrimack was nearly completed, and if we were to fight her on her first appearance, we must be on the ground. The Monitor had been hurried from the laying of her keel. Her engines were new, and her machinery did not move smoothly. Never was a vessel launched that so much needed trial trips to test her machinery and get her crew accustomed to their novel duties. We went to sea practically without them. No part of the vessel was finished. There was one omission that was serious, and came very near causing her failure and the loss of many lives. In heavy weather, it was intended that her hatches and all her openings should be closed and battened down. In that case, all the men would be below, and would have to depend upon artificial ventilation. Our machinery for that purpose proved wholly inadequate. We were in a heavy gale of wind as soon as we passed Sandy Hook. The vessel behaved splendidly. The seas rolled over her, and we found her the most comfortable vessel we had ever seen, except for the ventilation, which gave us more trouble than I have time to tell you about. We had to run into port and anchor on account of the weather, and, as you know, it was two o'clock in the morning of Sunday before we were alongside the Minnesota. Captain Van Brunt gave us an account of Saturday's experience. He was very glad to make our acquaintance, and notified us that we must be prepared to receive the Merrimack at daylight. We had had a very hard trip down the coast, and officers and men were weary and sleepy. But when informed that our fight would probably open at daylight and that the monitor must be put in order, every man went to his post with a cheer. That night there was no sleep on board the monitor. In the gray of the early morning we saw a vessel approaching, which our friends on the Minnesota said was the Merrimack. Our fastenings were cast off, our machinery started, and we moved out to meet her halfway. We had come a long way to fight her, and did not intend to lose our opportunity. Before showing you over the vessel, let me say that there were three possible points of weakness in the monitor, two of which might have been guarded against in her construction if there had been more time to perfect her plans. One of them was in the turret, which, as you see, is constructed of eight plates of inch iron on the side of the ports. Nine set on in so as to break joints, and firmly bolted together making a hollow cylinder eight inches thick. It rests on a metal ring on a vertical shaft, which is revolved by power from the boilers. If a projectile struck the turret at an acute angle, it was expected to glance off without doing damage. But what would happen if it was fired in a straight line to the center of the turret, which in that case would receive the whole force of the blow? It might break off the bolt heads on the interior, which flying across would kill the men at the guns. It might disarrange the revolving mechanism, and then we would be wholly disabled. I laid the monitor close alongside the Merrimack and gave her a shot. She returned our compliment by a shell weighing 150 pounds, fired when we were close together, which struck the turret so squarely that it received the whole force. Here you see the scar two-and-a-half inches deep in the wrought iron, a perfect mold of the shell. If anything could test the turret, it was that shot. It did not start a rivet head or a nut. It stunned the two men who were nearest where the ball struck, and that was all. I touched the lever, the turret revolved as smoothly as before. The turret had stood the test. I could mark that point of weakness off my list forever. You notice that the deck is joined to the side of the hull by a right angle at what sailors call the plank shear. If a projectile struck that angle, what would happen? It would not be deflected. Its hull force would be expended there. It might open a seam in the hull below the waterline or pierce the wooden hull and sink us. Here was our second point of weakness. I had decided how I would fight her in advance. I would keep the monitor moving in a circle just large enough to give time for loading the guns. At the point where the circle impinged upon the Merrimack, our guns should be fired and loaded while we were moving around the circuit. Evidently the Merrimack would return the compliment every time. At our second exchange of shots, she returned six or eight to our two, another of her large shells struck our plank shear at its angle and tore up one of the deck plates as you see. The shell had struck what I believed to be the weakest point in the monitor. We had already learned that the Merrimack swarmed with sharpshooters for their bullets were constantly spattering against our turret and our deck. If a man showed himself on deck, he would draw their fire. But I did not much consider the sharpshooters. It was my duty to investigate the effects of that shot. I ordered one of the pendulums to be hauled aside and crawling out of the port, walk to the side, lay down upon my chest and examined it thoroughly. The hull was uninjured except for a few splinters in the wood. I walked back and crawled into the turret. The bullets were falling on the iron deck all about me, as thick as hail stones in a storm. None struck me, I suppose because the vessel was moving and at the angle and when I was lying on the deck my body made a small mark, difficult to hit. We gave them two more guns and then I told the men what was true that the Merrimack could not sink us if we let her pound us for a month. The men cheered, the knowledge put new life into all. We had more exchanges and then the Merrimack tried new tactics. She endeavored to ram us to run us down. Once she struck us about midships with her iron ram. Here you see its mark. It gave us a shock, pushed us around and that was all the harm. But the movement placed our sides together. I gave her two guns which I think lodged in her side for from my lookout crack I could not see that either shot rebounded. Ours being the smaller vessel and more easily handled I had no difficulty in avoiding her ram. I ran around her several times planting our shot in what seemed to be the most vulnerable places. In this way, reserving my fire until I got the range and the mark I planted two more shots almost in the very spot I had hit when she tried to ram us. Those shots must have been effective for they were followed by a shower of bars of iron. The third weak spot was our pilot house. You see that it is built a little more than three feet above the deck of bars of iron, ten by twelve inches square, built up like a log house, bolted with very large bolts at the corners where the bars interlock. The pilot stands upon a platform below his head and shoulders in the pilot house. The upper tier of bars is separated from the second by an open space of an inch through which the pilot may look out at every point of the compass. The pilot house as you see is a four square mass of iron provided with no means of deflecting a ball. I expected trouble from it and I was not disappointed. Until my accident happened, as we approached the enemy, I stood in the pilot house and gave the signals. Lieutenant Green fired the guns and engineer Stimers here revolved the turret. I was below the deck when the corner of the pilot house was first struck by a shot or a shell. It either burst or was broken and no harm was done. A short time after I had given the signal and with my eye close against the lookout crack was watching the effect of our shot. Something happened to me. My part in the fight was ended. Lieutenant Green, who fought the Merrimack until she had no longer stomach for fighting, will tell you the rest of the story. Can it be possible that this beardless boy fought one of the historic battles of the world? This was the thought of everyone as the modest, diffident young Green was half pushed forward into the circle. I cannot add much to the captain's story he began. He had cut out the work for us and we had only to follow his pattern. I kept the monitor either moving around the circle or around the enemy and endeavored to place our shots as near her amidships as possible where Captain Warden believed he had already broken through her armor. We knew that she could not sink us and I thought I would keep right on pounding her as long as she would stand it. There is really nothing new to be added to Captain Warden's account. We could strike her wherever we chose. Weary as they must have been, our men were full of enthusiasm and I do not think we wasted a shot. Once we ran out of the circle for a moment to adjust a piece of machinery then I learned that some of our friends feared that we were drawing out of the fight. The Merrimack took the opportunity to start for Norfolk. As soon as our machinery was adjusted we followed her and got near enough to give her a parting shot. But I was not familiar with the locality. There might be torpedoes planted in the channel and I did not wish to take any risk of losing our vessel so I came back to the company of our friends. But except that we were, all of us, tired and hungry when we came back to the Minnesota at half past twelve p.m., the monitor was just as well prepared to fight as she was at eight o'clock in the morning when she fired the first gun. We were then shown the injury to the pilot house. The mark of the ball was plain upon the two upper bars, the principal impact being upon the lower of the two. This huge bar was broken in the middle but held firmly at either end. The farther it was pressed in the stronger was the resistance on the exterior. On the inside the fracture in the bar was half an inch wide. Captain Warden's eye was very near to the lookout crack so that when the gun was discharged the shock of the ball knocked him senseless while the mass of flame filled one side of his face with coarse grains of powder. He remained insensible for some hours. Have you heard what Captain Warden's first inquiry was when he recovered his senses after the general shock to his system? Asked Captain Fox of the President. I think I have, replied Mr. Lincoln, but it is worth relating to these gentlemen. His question was, said Captain Fox, have I saved the Minnesota? Yes, and whipped the Merrimack, someone answered. Then, said Captain Warden, I don't care what becomes of me. Mr. President, said Captain Fox, not much of the history to which we have listened is new to me. I saw this battle from eight o'clock until midday. There was one marvel in it which has not been mentioned, the splendid handling of the monitor throughout the battle. The first bold advance of this diminutive vessel against a giant like the Merrimack was superlatively grand. She seemed inspired by Nelson's order at Trafligar. He will make no mistake who lays his vessel alongside the enemy, one would have thought the monitor a living thing. No man was visible. You saw her moving around that circle, delivering her fire invariably at the point of contact, and heard the crash of the missile against her enemy's armor above the thunder of her guns, on the bank where we stood. It was indescribably grand. Now he continued, standing here on the deck of this battle-scarred vessel, the first genuine ironclad, the victor in the first fight of the ironclads, let me make a confession and perform an act of simple justice. I never fully believed in armored vessels until I saw this battle. I know all the facts which united to give us the monitor. I withhold no credit from Captain Erickson, her inventor, but I know that the country is principally indebted for the construction of this vessel to President Lincoln, for the success of her trial to Captain Warden, her commander. H. Ashton Ramsey, major CSA, chief engineer of the Merrimack. The Merrimack was built in 1856 as a full-rigged war frigate, a 3100 tons burden, with auxiliary steam power to be used only in case of headwinds. She was a hybrid from her birth, marking the transition from sails to steam, as well as from wooden ships to ironclads. I became her second assistant engineer in Panama Bay in 1859, cruising in her around the Horn and back to Norfolk. Her chief engineer was Alban C. Stimers. Little did we dream that he was to be the right-hand man of Erickson in the construction of the monitor, while I was to hold a similar post in the conversion of our own ship into an ironclad, or that, in less than a year and a half, we would be seeking to destroy each other, he as chief engineer of the monitor, and I in the corresponding position on the Merrimack. In the harbor of Rio on our return voyage, we met the Congress, and as we sailed away after coaling, she fired a friendly salute and cheered us, and we responded with a will. When the two ships next met, it was in one of the deadliest combats of naval history. The machinery of the Merrimack was condemned, and she went out of commission on our return. She was still at Norfolk when the war broke out, and was set on fire by the Federals when Norfolk was evacuated. Some of the workmen in the Navy Yard scuttled and sank her, thus putting out the flames. When she was raised by the Confederates, she was nothing but a burned and blackened hulk. Her charred upper works were cut away, and in the center a casement shield 180 feet long was built of pitch pine and oak, two feet thick. This was covered with iron plates, one to two inches thick and eight inches wide, bolted over each other and through and through the woodwork, giving a protective armor four inches in thickness. The shield sloped at an angle of about 36 degrees and was covered with an iron grating that served as an upper deck. For fifty feet forward and aft, her decks were submerged below the water, and the prow was shod with an iron beak to receive the impact when ramming. Even naval officers were skeptical as to the result. The plates were rolled at the Tredegar mills at Richmond and arrived so slowly that we were nearly a year in finishing her. We could have rolled them at Norfolk and built four Meramax in that time had the South understood the importance of a Navy at the outbreak of the war. I remember that my old friend and comrade Captain Charles McIntosh while awaiting orders used to come over and stand on the granite curbing of the dock to watch the work as it crawled along. Goodbye, Ramsey, he said, sadly on the eve of starting to command a ram at New Orleans. I shall never see you again. She will prove your coffin. A short time afterward the poor fellow had both legs shot from under him and died almost immediately. Rifled guns were just coming into use and Lieutenant Brooke, who designed the Meramax, considered the question of having some of her guns rifled. How to procure such cannon was not easily discovered as we had no foundries in the South. There were many cast iron cannon that had fallen into our hands at Norfolk and we conceived the idea of turning some of this ordinance into rifles. In order to enable them to stand the additional bursting strain we forged wrought iron bands and shrank them over the chambers and we devised a special tool for rifling the bore of the guns. They gave effective service. Many details remained uncompleted when we were at last floated out of dry dock but there was great pressure for us to make some demonstration that might serve to check McClellan in his advance up the peninsula. The ship was still full of workmen hurrying her to completion when Commodore Franklin Buchanan arrived from Richmond one March morning and ordered everyone out of the ship except her crew of 350 men which had been hastily drilled on shore in the management of the big guns and directed Executive Officer Jones to prepare to sail at once. At that time nothing was known of our destination. All we knew was that we were off at last. Buchanan sent for me. The veteran sailor, the bow-ideal of a naval officer of the old school with his tall form, harsh features, and clear piercing eyes was pacing the deck with a stride I found it difficult to match although he was then over sixty and I but twenty-four. Ramsay he asked what would happen to your engines and boilers if there should be a collision. They are braced tight, I assured him. Though the boilers stand fourteen feet they are so securely fastened that no collision could budge them. I am going to ram the Cumberland said my commander. I'm told she has the new rifle guns the only ones in their whole fleet we have caused to fear. The moment we are in the roads I'm going to make right for her and ram her. How about your engines? They were in bad shape in the old ship, I understand. Can we rely on them?  She will have to travel some ten miles down the river before we get to the roads, I said. If any trouble develops I'll report it. I think that will be sufficient trial trip. I watch the machinery carefully as we sped down the Elizabeth River and soon satisfied myself that all was well. Then I went on deck. How fast is she going, do you think? I asked one of the pilots. Eight or nine knots an hour he replied, making a rapid calculation from objects ashore. The Merrimack as an ironclad was faster under steam than she had ever been before with her top hamper of masts and sails. I presented myself to the Commodore. The machinery is all right, sir, I assured him. Across the river, at Newport News, gleamed the batteries in white tents of the Federal Camp and the vessels of the fleet blockading the mouth of the James, chief among them the Congress and the Cumberland, tall and stately, with every line and spar clearly defined against the blue-marched sky, their decks and ports bristling with guns while the rigging of the Cumberland was gay with the red, white, and blue of sailor's garments hung out to dry. As we rounded in to view the white-winged sailing craft that sprinkled the bay and long lines of tugs and small boats scurried to the far shore like chickens on the approach of a hovering hawk. They had seen our black hulk which looked like the roof of a barn afloat. Suddenly huge volumes of smoke began to pour from the funnels of the frigates Minnesota and Roanoke at old point. They had seen us, too, and were getting up steam. Bright-colored signal flags were run up and down the masts of all the ships of the Federal Fleet. The Congress shook out her top sails. Down came the clothesline on the Cumberland and boats were lowered and dropped astern. Our crew was summoned to the gun deck and Buchanan addressed us. Sailors, in a few minutes you will have the long looked-for opportunity of showing your devotion to our cause. Remember that you are about to strike for your country and your homes. The Confederacy expects every man to do his duty, beat to quarters. Every terse-burning word is engraved on my memory, though fifty years have passed since they were spoken. Just as he had finished, the mess-caterer touched my elbow and whispered, better get your lunch now, Mr. Ramsey. It will be your last chance. The galley fires must be put out when the magazines are opened. On my way I saw Assistant Surgeon Garnet at a table laying out lint and surgical implements. I had no appetite and merely tasted some cold tongue and a cup of coffee. Passing along the gun-deck I saw the pale and determined countenances of the gun's crews as they stood motionless at their posts, with set lips unsmiling, contrasting with the careless expression of sailors when practiced at fighting quarters on a man of war. This was the real thing. As we approached the Federal ships, we were met by a veritable storm of shells which must have sunk any ship then afloat except the Merrimack. They struck our sloping sides, were deflected upward to burst harmlessly in the air, or rolled down and fell hissing into the water, dashing the spray up into our ports. As we drew nearer the Cumberland, above the roar of battle rang the voice of Buchanan, Do you surrender? Never retorted the gallant Morris. The crux of what followed was down in the engine room. Two gongs, the signal to stop, were quickly followed by three, the signal to reverse.  The engines labored. The vessel was shaken in every fiber. Our bow was visibly depressed. We seemed to be bearing down with a weight on our prowl. Thud, thud, thud came the rain of shot on our shield from the double-deck battery of the Congress. There was a terrible crash in the fire room. For a moment we thought one of the boilers had burst. No, it was the explosion of a shell in our stack. Was anyone hit? No, thank God. The firemen had been warned to keep away from the uptake, so the fragments of shell fell harmlessly on the iron floor plates. We had rushed on the doomed ship, relentless as fate, crashing through her barricade of heavy spars and torpedo fenders, striking her below her starboard for chains, and crushing far into her. For a moment the whole weight of her hung on our prowl and threatened to carry us down with her, the return wave of the collision curling up into our bow port. The Cumberland began to sink slowly, bow first, but continued to fight desperately for the forty minutes that elapsed after her doom was sealed, while we were engaged with both the Cumberland and the Congress, being right between them. We had left our cast-iron beak in the side of the Cumberland. Like the wasp we could sting but once, leaving it in the wound. Our smokestack was riddled, our flag was shot down several times, and was finally secured to a rent in the stack. On our gun-deck the men were fighting like demons. There was no thought or time for the wounded and dying as they tugged away at their guns, training and sighting their pieces while the orders rang out, sponge, load, fire. The muzzle of our gun has been shot away, cried one of the gunners. No matter, keep on loading and firing, do the best you can with it, replied Lieutenant Jones. Keep away from the side ports, don't lean against the shield. Look out for the sharpshooters, rang the warnings. Some of our men who failed to heed them and leaned against the shield were stunned and carried below, bleeding at the ears. All were full of courage and worked with a will. They were so begrimed with powder that they looked like negroes. Pass along the cartridges, more powder, a shell for number six, a wet wad for the hotshot gun. Put out that pipe and don't light it again on peril of your life. Such were the directions and commands that you'd like clockwork amid the confusion of battle. Our executive officers seemed to be in a dozen places at once. This gives some faint notion of the scene passing behind our grim iron casement, which to the beholders without seemed a machine of destruction. Human hearts were beating and bleeding there. Human lives were being sacrificed. Pain, death, wounds, glory, that was the sum of it. On the doomed ship Cumberland the battle raged with equal fury. The sand and deck was red and slippery with blood. Delirium seized the crew.  Then the order came, all save who can. There was a scramble for the spar deck and a rush overboard. The ship listed. The after-pivot gun broke loose and rushed down the decline like a furious animal, rolling over a man as it bounded overboard, leaving a mass of mangled flesh on deck. We now turned to the Congress which had tried to escape but had grounded, and the battle raged once more. Broadside upon broadside, delivered at close range, the Merrimack working closer all the time with their bow pointed as if to ram the Congress. A shell from Lieutenant Wood's gun sped through their line of powder passers, not only cutting down the men but exploding the powder buckets in their hands, spreading death and destruction and setting fire to the ship. At last came the order, seas firing. The Congress has surrendered, someone cried. Look out of the port. See, she has run up white flags. The officers are waving their handkerchiefs. At this, several of the officers started to leave their posts and rush on deck, but Lieutenant Jones in his stentorian voice sang out, Stand by your guns and, Lieutenants, be ready to resume firing at the word. See that your guns are well supplied with ammunition during the lull. Dr. Garnett, see how those poor fellows yonder are coming on. Mr. Littlepage, tell Paymaster Semple to have a care of the birth deck and use every precaution against fire. Mr. Hasker, call away the cutter's crew and have them in readiness. Mr. Lindsey, to the carpenter, sound the well, examine the forehold and report if you find anything wrong. Such was Catsby A.P.R. Jones, the executive officer of the Merrimack. When it was fully evident that there was to be a suspension of hostilities and these details had all been attended to, several of the officers went to stand beside Buchanan on the upper grating. The whole scene was changed. A pall of black smoke hung about the ships and obscured the clean-cut outlines of the shore. Down the river were the three frigates, St. Lawrence, Roanoke, and Minnesota, also enveloped in the clouds of battle that now and then reflected the crimson lightnings of the God of War. The masts of the Cumberland were protruding above the water. The Congress presented a terrible scene of carnage. The gun-boats Beaufort and Raleigh were signaled to take off the wounded and fire the ship.  Buchanan fell severely wounded in the groin. As he was being carried below, he said to Executive Officer Jones, plug hotshot into her and don't leave her until she's a fire. They must look after their own wounded, since they won't let us. A characteristic command when it is remembered that his own brother, McKean Buchanan, was paymaster of the Congress and might have been numbered among the wounded. We had kept two furnaces for the purpose of heating shot. They were rolled into the flames on a grating, rolled out into iron buckets, hoisted to the gun-deck, and rolled into the guns which had been prepared with wads of wet hemp. Then the gun would be touched off quickly and the shot sent on its errand of destruction. Leaving the Congress wrapped in sheets of flame, we made for the three other frigates. The St. Lawrence and Roanoke had run aground, but were pulled off by tugs and made their escape. The Minnesota was not so fortunate, but we drew twenty-three feet of water and could not get near enough to destroy her while our guns could not be elevated owing to the narrow embrasures, and their range was only a mile. So we made for our moorings at Sewell's Point. All the evening we stood on deck watching the brilliant display of the burning ship. Every part of her was on fire at the same time, the red-tongued flames running up shrouds, masts, and stays, and extending out to the yard arms. She stood in bold relief against the black background, lighting up the roads and reflecting her lurid lights on the bosom of the now-placid and hushed waters. Every now and then the flames would reach one of the loaded cannon, and a shell would hiss at random through the darkness. About midnight came the grand finale. The magazines exploded, shooting up a huge column of firebrands hundreds of feet in the air, and then the burning hulk burst asunder and melted into the waters while the calm night spread her sable mantle over Hampton Roads. The monitor arrived during the evening and anchored under the stern of the Minnesota, her lighter draft enabling her to do so without danger. To us the ensuing engagement was in the nature of a surprise. If we had known we were to meet her, we would have at least been supplied with solid shot for our rifled guns. We might even have thought best to wait until our iron beak, lost in the side of the Cumberland, could be replaced. Buchanan was incapacitated by his wound and the command devolved upon Lieutenant Jones. We left our anchorage shortly before eight o'clock next morning and steamed across an upstream toward the Minnesota, thinking to make short work of her and soon return with her colors trailing under ours. We approached her slowly, feeling our way cautiously along the edge of the channel, when suddenly, to our astonishment, a black object that looked like the historic description, a barrel head afloat with a cheese box on top of it, moved slowly out from under the Minnesota and boldly confronted us. It must be confessed that both ships were queer-looking craft, as grotesque to the eyes of the men of sixty-two as they would appear to those of the present generation. And now the great fight was on, a fight the like of which the world had never seen. With the battle of yesterday old methods had passed away and with them the experience of a thousand years of battle and of breeze was brought to naught. We hovered about each other in spirals, gradually contracting the circuits until we were within point-blank range, but our shell glanced from the monitor's turret just as hers did from our sloping sides. For two hours the cannonade continued without perceptible damage to either of the combatants.  The noise of the cracking, roaring fires, escaping steam, and the loud and labored pulsations of the engines together with the roar of the battle above and the thud and vibration of the huge masses of iron, which were hurled against us, produced a scene and sound to be compared only with the poet's picture of the lower regions. And then an accident occurred that threatened our utter destruction. We stuck fast aground on a sandbar. Our situation was critical. The monitor could, at her leisure, come close up to us and yet be out of our reach, owing to our inability to deflect our guns. In she came and began to sound every chink in our armor, every one but that which was actually vulnerable had she known it. The whole consumption of the two days' fight had lightened our prow until our unprotected submerged deck was almost awash. The armor on our sides below the waterline had been extended but about three feet, owing to our hasty departure before the work was finished. Lightened as we were, these exposed portions rendered us no longer an iron clad, and the monitor might have pierced us between wind and water had she depressed her guns. Fearing that she might discover our vulnerable heel of Achilles, we had to take all chances. We lashed down the safety valves, heaped quick burning combustibles into the already raging fires, and brought the boilers to a pressure that would have been unsafe under ordinary circumstances. The propeller churned the mud and water furiously, but the ship did not stir. We piled on oiled cotton waste, splints of wood, anything that would burn faster than coal. It seemed impossible that the boilers could stand the pressure we were crowding upon them. Just as we were beginning to despair, there was a perceptible movement, and the Merrimax slowly dragged herself off the shoal by main strength. We were saved. Before our adversary saw that we were again a float, we made a dash for her, catching her quite unprepared and tried to ram her, but our commander was dubious about the result of a collision without our iron-shod beak and gave the signal to reverse the engines long before we reached the monitor. As a result, I did not feel the slightest shock down in the engine room, though we struck her fairly enough. The carpenter reported that the effect was to spring a leak forward. Lieutenant Jones sent for me and asked me about it. It is impossible we can be making much water, I replied, for the skin of the vessel is plainly visible in the crankpits. A second time he sent for me and asked if we were making any water in the engine room. With the two large Worthington pumps besides the bilge injections, we could keep her afloat for hours, even with a ten-inch shell in her hull, I assured him, repeating that there was no water in the engine and boiler rooms. We glided past, leaving the monitor unscathed, but got between her and the Minnesota and opened fire on the ladder. The monitor gallantly rushed to her rescue, passing so close under our submerged stern that she almost snapped off our propeller. As she was passing, so near that we could have leaped aboard her, Lieutenant Wood trained the stern gun on her when she was only twenty yards from its muzzle and delivered a rifle pointed shell which dislodged the iron logs sheltering the monitor's conning tower, carrying away the steering gear and signal apparatus and blinding Captain Warden. It was a mistake to place the conning tower so far from the turret and the vitals of the ship. Since that time it has been located over the turret. The monitor's turret was a death trap. It was only twenty feet in diameter and every shot knocked off bolt heads from flying against the gunners. If one of them barely touched the side of the turret he would be stunned and momentarily paralyzed. Lieutenant Green had been taken below in a dazed condition and never fully recovered from the effects. One of the port shutters had been jammed putting a gun out of commission and there was nothing for the monitor to do but to retreat and leave the Minnesota to her fate. Captain Van Brunt of the latter vessel thought he was now doomed and was preparing to fire his ship when he saw the Merrimack also withdrawing toward Norfolk. It was at this juncture that Lieutenant Jones had sent for me and said the pilots will not place us nearer to the Minnesota and we cannot afford to run the risk of getting aground again. I'm going to haul off under the guns of Sewell's Point and renew the attack on the rise of the tide. Bank your fires and make any necessary adjustments to the machinery but be prepared to start up again later in the afternoon. I went below to comply with his instructions and later was astonished to hear cheering. Rushing on deck I found we were passing Craney Island on our way to Norfolk and were being cheered by the soldiers of the battery. Our captain had consulted with some of his lieutenants. He explained afterward that as the monitor had proved herself so formidable an adversary he had thought best to get a supply of solid shot, have the prow replaced, the port shutters put on, the armor belt extended below water and the guns whose muzzles had been shot away replaced, and then renew the engagement with every chance of victory. I remember feeling as though a wet blanket had been thrown over me. His reasoning was doubtless good, but it ignored the moral effect of leaving the roads without forcing the Minnesota to surrender. As the Merrimack passed up the river, trailing the ensign of the Congress under the stars and bars, she received a tremendous ovation from the crowds that lined the shores, while hundreds of small boats, gay with flags and bunting, converted our course into a triumphal procession. We went into dry dock that very afternoon and in about three weeks were ready to renew the battle upon more advantageous terms, but the monitor, though reinforced by two other iron clads, the Galena and the Nagatuck, and every available vessel of the United States Navy was under orders from Washington to refuse our challenge and bottle us up in the roads. This strategy filled us with rage and dismay, but it proved very effective. Our new commander, Commodore Josiah Tatnall, was burning to distinguish himself, but he was under orders not to risk the destruction or capture of the Merrimack by leaving the roads, as General Huger's division at Norfolk would then be at the mercy of the Federal Fleet. Week after week was passing and with it his golden opportunity. At last we went to Richmond and pressed a plan for a sortie upon the President. He returned one afternoon and ordered everyone aboard. That night we slipped down the roads and were soon passing Fort Monroe on our way out into the Chesapeake. Presently our Army signal officer began waving his lantern communicating with our distant batteries and then told the result to Officer Jones who reported to Tatnall. We had been ordered to return, sir, he said. Tatnall was viewing the dim outlines of the Fort through his glass and pretended not to hear. The order is peremptory, repeated Jones. Tatnall hesitated. He was of half a mind to disobey. Old Huger has outwitted me, he muttered. Do what you please, I leave you in command. I'm going to bed, and he went below in a high dungeon. Tatnall was a striking looking man standing over six feet with floored complexion, deep sunken blue eyes, and a protruding upper lip. That he did not have a chance to fight was no fault of his. Our life on board for the weeks that followed was far from comfortable. We were within sight of the enemy and at every movement of the opposing fleet it was clear away for action. Tatnall was kept up continually. Our cabins were without airports and no ray of light even penetrated the wardrooms. There was nowhere to walk but on the upper grading. A modern prison is far more comfortable. Sometimes the sailors waited on the submerged deck giving rise to the superstition among the darkies that they were the crew of the devil's ship with power to walk on the water. Norfolk was now being evacuated and we were covering Hoeger's retreat. When this was affected we were to receive the signal and to make our own way up the James. Norfolk was in federal hands and Hoeger had disappeared without signaling us when our pilots informed us that Harrison's bar, which we must cross, drew only 18 feet of water. Under their advice, on the night of May 11th, we lightened the ship by throwing overboard all our coal and ballast, thus raising our unprotected decks above water. At last all was ready and then we found that the wind which had been blowing downstream all day had swept the water off the bar. When morning dawn the federal fleet must discover our defenseless condition and defeat and capture were certain for we were now no longer an iron clad. It was decided to abandon the vessel and set her on fire. We took the Merrimack to the bite of Cranny Island and about midnight the work of disembarking the crew began. We had but two boats and it was sunrise before our 350 men were all ashore. Cotton waste and trains of powder were strewn about the deck and Executive Officer Jones, who was the last to leave the ship, applied the slow match. Then we marched silently through the woods to join Huger, 15 miles away at Suffolk. Still unconquered, we hauled down our drooping colors, their laurels all fresh and green, with mingled pride and grief, gave her to the flames and set the lambent fires roaring about the shotted guns. The slow match, the magazine, and that last deep low sullen, mournful boom told our people, now far away on the march, that their gallant ship was no more. the public domain. Recording by Jeffrey Smith, New Orleans, Louisiana. Chapter 3 The Last of the Monitor by an eyewitness, Rear Admiral E. W. Watson, U.S.N. On the 29th of December, 1862, nine months after her memorable combat with the Merrimack, the Monitor, Commander John P. Bankhead, left Hampton Roads in tow of the Rhode Island, commanded by Captain Stephen Decatur Trenchard for Beaufort, North Carolina. The weather at the time of starting looked favorable for the trip, but on the following day, when nearing Cape Hatteras, the wind came out from the southeast and gradually freshened until, by evening, it was blowing a moderate gale with a tolerably heavy sea running. It was soon seen that the Monitor was making heavy weather of it and the engines were slowed down, but the course was still kept head to the wind and sea. This was a mistake, for experience later on in towing other vessels of her class proved that the safest way to handle them in heavy weather was to let them lie in the trough of the sea when the waves would wash over their decks and the roll would not be excessive. The Monitor was closely watched, all on board the Rhode Island, feeling anxious for her safety. Toward the end of the first watch, between 8 p.m. and midnight, the signal of distress, a red lantern, was hoisted on the Monitor and, unknown to those on the Rhode Island, the hauser was cut and the anchor of the Monitor let go. The Rhode Island immediately stopped her engine and three boats were called away with an officer in charge of each and were sent to take off the Monitor's people. With the heavy sea running it was a difficult matter to go alongside of her and the first boat to reach her was thrown by a wave upon the deck and a whole stove in her. The next wave washed the boat off and with considerable difficulty she took on board as many of the men as in her leaky condition could make the return trip safely. When the boats came alongside of the Monitor her captain and executive officer went upon the deck and clinging to the lifelines with the waves washing over them called to the crew to come down from the turret and get into the boats which they were reluctant to do at first. Some were able to jump into the boats and some landed in the water and were hauled in. Seeing an old quartermaster with a large bundle under his arm the executive officer thinking that it was his clothes bag told him that that was no time to be trying to save his effects. He said nothing but threw it into the boat. When the bundle was passed up over the side of the Rhode Island it proved to be a little messenger boy probably the smallest and youngest one in the service. The three boats were finally loaded and made their way back to the ship. In the meanwhile the Rhode Island in backing her engines had fouled the hozzer with her port paddle wheel and being directly to windward of the Monitor with her engines helpless drifted down upon her. It looked at one time as if she would strike the bow of the Monitor but fortunately she just missed it and scraping along her side drifted off to leeward. Another boat was sent to bring off the remainder of the Monitor's crew but being to leeward now she could make only slow headway against the seas and before she got to her the men saw the Monitor's light disappear and knew that she had gone down. The hozzer, having finally been cleared from the Rhode Island's wheel she steamed around searching for the boat sending up rockets and burning blue lights to show her position. When the day dawned nothing could be seen. After hailing a passing government vessel and telling them to search for the boat the Rhode Island steamed with all speed for Fortress Monroe to report the loss. When the survivors of the ill-fated vessel were mustered on the deck of the Rhode Island four officers and twelve men were found missing all of them probably buried in an iron coffin in a watery grave about fifty miles to the southward and eastward of Cape Hatteras Light. The missing boat and crew of the Rhode Island were found by that vessel a week later safe in Beaufort, North Carolina. They had been picked up by a schooner and taken into that port. The officer in charge of the boat reported that in the early morning he had sighted a schooner standing toward them and had hoisted a black silk handkerchief belonging to one of the crew on an ore as a signal of distress but the people in the schooner evidently thinking them pirates who had come out of some one of the inlets of the coast turned tail and scutted away from them. A second schooner coming along soon after was more hospitable and took them aboard. End of Chapter 3 End of the Monitor and the Merrimack Both Sides of the Story by John Warden