fought alone for three hours against six ships, and had
seriously damaged every one of her adversaries. It must also be
remembered that she carried but two guns.

The "Albemarle" lay for a long time idle at her moorings in Roanoke
River, feeling sure that at her own pleasure she could go into the
sounds, and complete the destruction of the fleet. Lieut. Cushing,
then twenty-one years old, begged permission to attempt to destroy
her. The authority was gladly granted by the navy department, and
Cushing began making his plans for the adventure. His first plan was
to take a squad of men, with two steam-launches, up the Roanoke, and
blow the ram up by means of a torpedo. The launches were sent from
New York, but one was swamped while crossing Delaware Bay.

Cushing, however, was not the man to be balked by an accident: so,
cutting down his force one-half, he prepared for the start. Thirteen
officers and men made up the little party which seemed bound to
certain death. The spirit which animated the blue-jackets during the
war may be imagined from the fact that many sailors tried to purchase
the privilege of going on this perilous expedition, by offering their
month's pay to those who had been selected. To understand what a
forlorn hope the little boat-load of men were cherishing, we must
understand what were the defences of the "Albemarle." She lay at a
broad wharf, on which was encamped a large guard of soldiers as well
as her crew. Above and below her, great fires were kept burning on the
shores, to prevent any boat approaching unseen. She was surrounded by
a boom, or "water-fence," of floating logs, about thirty feet from her
hull, to keep off any torpedo-boats. From the mouth of the Roanoke to
her moorings was about eight miles; the shores being lined on either
side by pickets, and a large picket-station being established in
mid-stream about one mile below Plymouth.

To attempt to penetrate this network of defences seemed to be
foolhardy. Yet Cushing's record for dash and courage, and his
enthusiasm, inspired his comrades with confidence; and they set out
feeling certain of success. On the night of the 27th of October, the
daring band, in their pygmy steamer, steamed rapidly up the river. No
word was spoken aboard. The machinery was oiled until it ran
noiselessly; and not a light shone from the little craft, save when
the furnace-door was hastily opened to fire up. The Confederate
sentries on the bank saw nothing of th