ilure. So, with
this grudging permission, the work of building the warship that was
destined to save the Federal navy was begun. Work was prosecuted night
and day, and in one hundred days the vessel was ready for launching.
Great was the discussion over her. Distinguished engineers predicted
that she would never float; and many attended the launch expecting to
see the vessel plunge from the ways to the bottom of the river, like a
turtle from a log. So general was this opinion, that boats were in
readiness to rescue her passengers if she went down. But Capt.
Ericsson's plans were well laid. The great vessel glided with a
graceful dip into the river, and floated at her cables buoyantly. She
was a strange-looking craft. All that was to be seen of her above
water was a low deck about a foot above the water, bearing in the
centre a large round iron turret pierced with two great portholes.
Besides the turret, the smooth surface of the deck was broken by two
other elevations,--a small iron pilot-house forward, made of iron
plates about ten inches thick, and with iron gratings in front; aft of
the turret was a low smokestack. Beneath the water-line this vessel
had some strange features. The upper part of her hull, forming the
deck, projected beyond her hull proper about four feet on every side.
This projection was known as the "overhang," and was designed as a
protection against rams. It was made of white oak and iron, and was
impenetrable by any cannon of that day; although now, when steel
rifled cannon are built that will send a ball through twenty inches of
wrought iron, the original "Monitor" would be a very weak vessel.

The turret in this little vessel, which held the two guns that she
mounted, was so arranged as to revolve on a central pivot, thus
enabling the gunners to keep their guns continually pointed at the
enemy, whatever might be the position of the vessel. When the time for
the first battle actually arrived, it was found that the turret would
not revolve properly; but in later ships of the same class this
trouble was avoided.

It was at two o'clock on the morning after the day on which the
"Merrimac" had wrought such havoc among the ships of the North, that
this queer-looking little vessel steamed into Hampton Roads. As the
gray dawn began to break, she passed under the quarter of the
"Minnesota," and cast anchor. The tars on the great frigate looked
curiously at the strange craft, and wondered if that insigni