and nights of mental discipline above
the Atlantic waves and on board the good ship Sully.

THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMAC.

On the 9th of March, 1862, for the first time in human
history, two iron-clad ships met in battle. The occasion was
a memorable one, and its story is well worthy of being
retold in our cycle of historic events. For centuries, for
thousands of years, in truth, wooden vessels had been
struggling for the mastery of the seas. With the first shot
fired from the turret of the Monitor at the roof-like sides
of the Merrimac, in the early morning of the day named, the
long reign of wooden war vessels ended; that of iron
monarchs of the deep began. England could no more trust to
her "wooden walls" for safety, and all the nations of
Europe, when the echo of that shot reached their ears, felt
that the ancient era of naval construction was at an end,
and that the future navies of the world must ride the waves
clad in massive armor of steel.

On the 8th of March, indeed, this had been shown. On that
day the Merrimac steamed down from Norfolk harbor into
Hampton Roads, where lay a fleet of wooden men-of-war, some
of them the largest sailing frigates then in the American
navy. On shore soldiers were encamped, here Union, there
Confederate; and the inmates of the camps, the garrison of
Fortress Monroe, the crews of the ships at anchor under its
guns, all gazed with eager eyes over the open waters of the
bay, their interest in the coming contest as intense as
Roman audience ever displayed for the life and death
struggle in the gladiatorial arena. Before them lay a
mightier amphitheatre than that of the Coliseum, and before
them was to be fought more notable struggle for life and
death than ever took place within the walls of mighty Rome.

It was in the afternoon of the 8th, about one o'clock, that
the long roll sounded in the camps on shore, and the cry
resounded from camp to camp, "The Merrimac is coming!" For
several weeks she had been looked for, and preparations made
for her reception. The frigates bore a powerful armament of
heavy guns, ready to batter her iron-clad sides, and strong
hopes were entertained that this modern leviathan would soon
cease to trouble the deep. The lesson fixed by fate for that
day had not yet been learned.

Down the bay she came, looking at a distance like a
flood-borne house, its sides drowned, only its sloping roof
visible. The strange-appearing craft moved slowly