to act, the wires and speaking-tubes were
destroyed, and each gun had to depend on itself. The electric
installation had been put out of commission on the _Louisiana_ by a
shell bursting through the armored deck and destroying the dynamos. As
the gun-turrets could no longer be swung around and the ammunition-lifts
had come to a stand-still in consequence, the _Louisiana_ was reduced to
a helpless wreck. She sank in the waves at 11.15, and shortly afterwards
the _New Hampshire_, which was already listing far to starboard because
the water had risen above the armored deck, capsized. By 12.30 the
_Connecticut_ was the sole survivor. She continued firing from the
12-inch guns in the rear turret and from the two 8-inch starboard
turrets.

At this point a large piece of shell slipped through the peep-hole of
the conning-tower and smashed its heavy armored dome. The next shot
might prove fatal. Admiral Perry was compelled to leave the spot he had
maintained so bravely; in a hail of splinters he at last managed to
reach the steps leading from the bridge; they were wet with the blood of
the dead and dying and the last four had been shot away altogether. The
other mode of egress, the armored tube inside the turret, was stopped up
with the bodies of two dead signalmen. The admiral let himself carefully
down by holding on to the bent railing of the steps, and was just in
time to catch the blood-covered body of his faithful comrade, Captain
Farlow, who had been struck by a shell as he stood on the lowest step.
The admiral leaned the body gently against the side of the
military-mast, which had been dyed yellow by the deposits of the hostile
shells.

Stepping over smoldering ruins and through passages filled with dead and
wounded men, over whose bodies the water splashed and gurgled, the
admiral at last reached his post below the armored deck.

To this spot were brought the reports from the fire-control stationed at
the rear mast and from the last active stations. It was a mournful
picture that the admiral received here of the condition of the
_Connecticut_. The dull din of battle, the crashing and rumbling of the
hostile shells, the suffocating smoke which penetrated even here below,
the rhythmic groaning of the engine and the noise of the pumps were
united here into an uncanny symphony. The ventilators had to be closed,
as they sent down biting smoke from the burning deck instead of fresh
air. The nerves of the officers and crew