of action, thus describes it: "Night
had come, mild and calm, refulgent with all the beauty of Southern
skies in early spring. The moon, in her second quarter, was just
rising over the rippling waters; but her silvery light was soon paled
by the conflagration of the 'Congress,' whose lurid glare was
reflected in the river. The burning frigate four miles away seemed
very much nearer. As the flames crept up the rigging, every mast,
spar, and rope glittered against the dark sky in dazzling lines of
fire. The hull, aground upon the shoal, was plainly visible; and upon
its black surface each porthole seemed the mouth of a fiery furnace.
For hours the flames raged, with hardly a perceptible change in the
wondrous picture. At irregular intervals, loaded guns and shells,
exploding as the flames reached them, sent forth their deep
reverberations, re-echoed over and over from every headland of the
bay. The masts and rigging were still standing, apparently intact,
when about two o'clock in the morning a monstrous sheet of flame rose
from the vessel to an immense height. The ship was rent in twain by
the tremendous flash. Blazing fragments seemed to fill the air; and,
after a long interval, a deep, deafening report announced the
explosion of the ship's powder-magazine. When the blinding glare had
subsided, I supposed that every vestige of the vessel would have
disappeared; but apparently all the force of the explosion had been
upward. The rigging had vanished entirely, but the hull seemed hardly
shattered; the only apparent change in it was that in two or three
places, two or three of the portholes had been blown into one great
gap. It continued to burn until the brightness of its blaze was
effaced by the morning sun."

In the great drama of the first day's fight at Hampton Roads, the
heroic part was played by the frigate "Cumberland." On the morning of
that fateful 8th of March, she was swinging idly at her moorings, her
boats floating at the boom, and her men lounging about the deck, never
dreaming of the impending disaster. It was wash-day, and from the
lower rigging of the ship hung garments drying in the sun. About noon
the lookout saw a cloud of smoke, apparently coming down the river
from Norfolk, and at once notified the officer of the deck. It was
surmised that it might be the new and mysterious iron-clad "Merrimac,"
about which many rumors were current, but few facts known. Quickly the
ship was set in trim for action, a