isobey. "Old Huger has
outwitted me," he muttered. "Do what you please. I leave you in command.
I'm going to bed," and he went below in a high dudgeon. Tatnall was a
striking-looking man, standing over six feet, with florid complexion,
deep-sunken blue eyes, and a protruding under lip. That he did not have
a chance to fight was no fault of his.

Our life on board for the weeks that followed was far from comfortable.
We were within sight of the enemy, and at every movement of the opposing
fleet it was "clear away for action." Steam was kept up continually. Our
cabins were without air ports and no ray of light even penetrated the
ward-rooms. There was nowhere to walk but on the upper grating--a modern
prison is far more comfortable. Sometimes the sailors waded on the
submerged deck, giving rise to the superstition among the darkies that
they were the crew of the "debble ship" with power to walk on the
water.

Norfolk was now being evacuated and we were covering Huger's retreat.
When this was effected we were to receive the signal and to make our own
way up the James. Norfolk was in Federal hands, and Huger had
disappeared without signaling us, when our pilots informed us that
Harrison's Bar, which we must cross, drew only eighteen feet of water.
Under their advice, on the night of May 11th we lightened ship by
throwing overboard all our coal and ballast, thus raising our
unprotected decks above water. At last all was ready--and then we found
that the wind which had been blowing down-stream all day had swept the
water off the bar. When morning dawned the Federal fleet must discover
our defenseless condition, and defeat and capture were certain, for we
were now no longer an ironclad.

It was decided to abandon the vessel and set her on fire. We took the
_Merrimac_ to the bight of Craney Island, and about midnight the work of
disembarking the crew began. We had but two boats, and it was sunrise
before our three hundred and fifty men were all ashore. Cotton waste and
trains of powder were strewn about the deck, and Executive Officer
Jones, who was the last to leave the ship, applied the slow match. Then
we marched silently through the woods to join Huger, fifteen miles away
at Suffolk.

Still unconquered, we hauled down our drooping colors, their laurels all
fresh and green, with mingled pride and grief, gave her to the flames,
and set the lambent fires roaring about the shotted guns. The slow
match, the magazine, and th