her strong frame seemed to plead with us not to abandon her.  The work she had done, the work she was to do, rose before us; might there not be a possibility of saving her yet?—­her time could not have come so soon.  We seemed to hear a voice from her saying,—­“Save me, for once I have saved you!  My frame is stanch still; my guns may again silence the roar of Rebel batteries.  The night will pass, and calm come to us once more.  Save me!” The roar of Ocean drowned her voice, and we who descended for a moment to the cabin knew, by the rising water through which we waded, that the end was near.

Small time was there for regrets.  Rockets were thrown up, and answered by the Rhode Island, whose brave men prepared at once to lower boats, though, in that wild sea, it was almost madness.

The Monitor had been attached to the Rhode Island by two hawsers, one of which had parted at about seven P.M.  The other remained firm, but now it was necessary it should be cut.  How was that possible, when every wave washed clean over her deck? what man could reach it alive?  “Who’ll cut the hawser?” shouted Captain Bankhead.  Acting-Master Stodder volunteered, and was followed by another.  Holding by one hand to the ropes at her side, they cut through, by many blows of the hatchet, the immense rope which united the vessels.  Stodder returned in safety, but his brave companion was washed over and went down.

The men were quiet and controlled, but all felt anxiety.  Master’s-Mate Peter Williams suggested bailing, in the faint hope that in this way the vessel might be kept longer above water.  A bailing party was organized by John Stocking, boatswain, who, brave man, at last went down.  Paymaster Keeler led the way, in company with Stocking, Williams, and one or two others; and though the water was now waist-deep, and they knew the vessel was liable to go down at almost any moment, they worked on nobly, throwing out a constant stream of water from the turret.

Meanwhile the boat launched from the Rhode Island had started, manned by a crew of picked men.

A mere heroic impulse could not have accomplished this most noble deed.  For hours they had watched the raging sea.  Their captain and they knew the danger; every man who entered that boat did it at peril of his life; and yet all were ready.  Are not such acts as these convincing proof of the divinity in human nature?

We watched her with straining eyes, for few thought she could live to reach us.  She neared; we were sure of her, thank God!

In this interval the cut hawser had become entangled in the paddle-wheel of the Rhode Island, and she drifted down upon us:  we, not knowing this fact, supposed her coming to our assistance; but a moment undeceived us.  The launch sent for our relief was now between us and her,—­too near for safety.  The steamer bore swiftly down, stern first, upon our starboard quarter.  “Keep off! keep off!” we cried, and then first saw she was helpless.  Even