The Albemarle was built on the Roanoke River in 1863.  She was of light draught, but of considerable length and width, her hull above the water-line being covered with four inches of iron bars.  Such an armor would be like paper against the great guns of to-day; then it served its purpose well.  The competition for effectiveness between rifled cannon and armor plates had not yet begun.

April, 1864, had arrived before this formidable opponent of the Union blockading fleet was ready for service.  Then, one misty morning, down the river she went, on her mission of death and destruction.  The opening of her career was promising.  She attacked the Union gunboats and fort at Plymouth, near the mouth of the river, captured one of the boats, sunk another, and aided in forcing the fort to surrender, its garrison being taken prisoners.  It had been assailed at the same time by a strong land force, and the next day Plymouth itself was taken by the Confederate troops, with a heavy Union loss in men and material.

So far favoring fortune had attended the Albemarle.  Enlivened with success, on a morning in May she steamed out into the deeper waters of Albemarle Bay, confident on playing the same r[^o]le with the wooden vessels there that the Merrimac had played in Hampton Roads.  She failed in this laudable enterprise.  The Albemarle was not so formidable as the Merrimac.  The steamers of war which she was to meet were more formidable than the Congress and the Cumberland.  She first encountered the Sassacus, a vessel of powerful armament.  More agile than the iron-clad, the Sassacus played round her, exchanging shots, and seeking a vulnerable point.  At length, under a full head of steam, she dashed on the monster, striking a blow which drove it bodily half under the water.  Recovering from the blow, the two vessels, almost side by side, hurled 100-pound balls upon each other.  Most of those of the Sassacus bounded from the mailed sides of her antagonist, like hail from stone walls.  But three of them entered a port, and did sad work within.  In reply the Albemarle sent one of her great bolts through a boiler of the Sassacus, filling her with steam.  So far the iron-clad had the best of the game; but others of the fleet were now near at hand; the balls which had entered her port had done serious injury; she was no longer in fighting trim; she turned and made the best of her way back to Plymouth, firing as she fled.

This ended her career for that summer.  But repairs were made, and she was put in fighting trim again; another gunboat was building as a consort; unless something were quickly done she would soon be in Albemarle Sound again, with possibly a different tale to tell from that of her first assault.