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The Birth of 
 Naval Armor. 
 
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The Birth of ... 
 ... Naval Armor, 
 
 This Poem contains a truthful and 
 interesting account of the 
 
 Two Great Naval Battles 
 
 In Hampton Roads, Va., 
 
 Connected with that important event, with 
 illustrations and descriptions of the 
 vessels en gaoled in the contests,— 7^^^^ 
 
 3AVS118il 
 
 
 Copyright 1896 by James Eggo. 
 
 Nolan Bros., 
 
 Steam Book and Job Printers, 
 
 67 & 69 Fleet St., B'klyn. 
 
 1896. 
 
 V 
 
^ 
 
 A12 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Shipmates and brother veterans of the great rebelHon, 
 in placing this poem before you and the pubHc, being an 
 amateur, and even were I a professional, I do not expect to 
 run the gauntlet of criticism unscathed; yet it will be a 
 small matter should the rapid fire guns of the poetical critics 
 demolish the ginger-bread work. I have protected the hull 
 with the invulnerable armor of truth, which will defy the 
 great guns of the historian. From personal observation and 
 other reliable sources, I am enabled to furnish my readers 
 with what I claim to be the most truthful and complete de- 
 scription ever published of the two memorable naval battles 
 in Hampton Roads, Virginia, attending the birth and 
 baptism of that great event which revolutionized the navies 
 of the world. Befoie a jury of the survivors, who either 
 took part in or witnessed the above-mentioned battles, I am 
 willing to submit my claim, that it will be read with interest 
 not only by them, but by generations to come, long after 
 all who took part in the great struggle have been mustered 
 out of life's service, is the cherished belief of your veteran 
 subscriber, 
 
 JAMES EGGO. 
 
The Birth of Naval Armor. 
 
 The ever busy brain of man 
 Has been since e'er the world began 
 Hatching plots and inventions 
 With either good or bad intentions; 
 . First in the field was woman-kind, 
 In Bible history we find, 
 To mother Eve the credit's due, 
 If the tale about her apron's true. 
 
 But then it will be understood, 
 That this is merely a prelude, 
 As my chief object is to mention 
 The birth of only one invention — 
 All great inventions it appears 
 Were born in the last sixty years. 
 
 The ancient view, ihat might was right, 
 
 Left no alternative but fight; 
 
 Yet we should be ashamed to say 
 
 In this enlightened age to-day, 
 
 That we're more prone to slay each other 
 
 Than at the time Cain kijled his brother. 
 
 Some few contrivances there be 
 For saving life on land and sea; 
 But insignificant are they 
 Compared with all the means to slay; 
 The deadly weapons used in war 
 Eclipse the saving means by far. 
 
 Tho' I could ne'er be taught to see 
 
 That war was e'er necessity, 
 
 But since the nations so declare. 
 
 And that all means employed are fair, 
 
 'Tis strange that 'gainst the gun and sword 
 
 Protective measures were ignored. 
 
 The first of all dame nature's laws 
 
 Had been, by some mysterious cause, 
 
 Ignored entirely or neglected. 
 
 Men left themselves quite unprotected, 
 
 Except the ancients and Sir Knights, 
 
Who battled in their armor tights; 
 
 But at the officer's command, 
 
 The soldier of to-day must stand, 
 
 With nothing to protect the body 
 
 Except his overcoat of shoddy. 
 
 But Neptune's hardy sons of war 
 
 Subjected to more dangers are. 
 
 The sailor, to the soldier's one. 
 
 Has four (fire, water, wind and gun); 
 
 Yet the sea warriors, it seemed, 
 
 Of self- protection never dreamed; 
 
 Their thoughts ran in their slaughter-houses 
 
 Of victory, sweethearts and spouses. 
 
 Tho' oft beset by all four dangers. 
 
 Brave Neptune's sons and fear were strangers. 
 
 Since writers of the by-gone days 
 
 Have clothed their deeds in golden praise, 
 
 Those fearless children of the sea 
 
 Can little more expect of me. 
 
 But, may be, e'er my story closes, 
 I'll cull them some memorial roses. 
 
 They'll not be jealous, if I tend 
 The fairest to their dearest friend — 
 To him, whose brilliant genius won 
 The first great victory o'er the gun. 
 
 'Twas when our great rebellion raged, 
 When brother against brother waged 
 A bitter and relentless strife. 
 This scheme was born for saving life; 
 In fact, it proved a combination 
 For saving three — man, ship and nation; 
 The North and South then saw, it seems, 
 The same requirement in their dreams, 
 'Bout the same time, with one exception, 
 They differed widely in conception. 
 Tho' both had the same end in view, 
 The Northern was entirely new. 
 John Ericsson was her inventor, 
 Who, to the nation did present her. 
 4 
 
The Monitor, that was the name 
 That echoed her creator's fame. 
 
 The Southern craft, though strong, was crude, 
 
 Being a protected hull of wood. 
 
 In her young days she was a crack, 
 
 Her name was then the Merrimac; 
 
 But when a rebel she became. 
 
 They changed her coat, likewise her name. 
 
 In iron clothed, and born again — 
 
 Virginia they named her then. 
 
 She was a formidable craft, 
 
 With shot-proof covering fore and aft. 
 
 And ram beneath her water line. 
 
 Which also was a new design. 
 
 Within the bay named Hampton Roads, 
 
 One of the finest ship abodes; 
 
 Where Elizabeth and James rivers meet. 
 
 The North had mustered a small fleet; 
 
 Through many years of prosperous peace 
 
 The Navy suffered much decrease. 
 
 Except a few, then modern classed, 
 
 The rest their useful stage had passed. 
 
 The reason why that fleet were there. 
 
 And all the ships the North could spare. 
 
 Was they expected an attack 
 
 From the protected Merrimac; 
 
 As the North from private sources knew 
 
 About the time of her debut. 
 
 Likewise the time is due, when I 
 To fight that battle o'er will try; 
 Oft' told before in verse and prose, 
 Few features new can I disclose; 
 Yet through this simple tale of mine 
 One ray of fiction will not shine. 
 
 'Twas on the eighth or ninth of March, 
 If I mistake, don't judge me harsh; 
 Just treat it like St. Patrick's day, 
 The eighth and ninth was claimed, they say; 
 But to end the dispute as to whether, 
 They added eight and nine together. 
 5 
 
This far my memory serves me true, 
 I am sure the year was sixty-lwo. 
 
 But I must serious now become, 
 To quarters sounds the fife and drum. 
 On that bright morn the glorious sun 
 Had scarce his daily task b gun, 
 Scarce had the flu.sh of new-born day 
 O'erspread the cheeks of Hampton Bay, 
 Near where the Elizabeth river bends, 
 And close to where its journey ends, 
 A dark, strange-looking craft appears 
 And down toward the fleet it steers; 
 It was the Merrimac, no doubt; 
 In fact, she was expected out. 
 As slowly down the bay she steamed, 
 Naught like a man-of-war she seemed. 
 But for that roof, with iron thatched. 
 She would been greatly over matched; 
 As but five guns a side she mounted 
 'Gainst which a hundred could be counted. 
 
 Including ancient Fort Monroe, 
 
 Which mounted fifty guns or so. 
 
 Yet though her armor was untried, 
 
 She boldly ships and forts defied; 
 
 As she drew near it was observed, 
 
 That from her previous course she swerved. 
 
 And pointed more across the bay, 
 
 Where the Cumberland and Congress lay; 
 
 As two old sailing ships were they, 
 
 She thought they'd fall an easy prey, 
 
 But not so easy as she thought, 
 
 For desperately those frigates fought. 
 
 In silence on the monster came. 
 Till smoke and fire at last proclaim 
 The fact, that every Union tar 
 Had now released their dogs of war. 
 As every gun was on her trained, 
 Upon the iron monster rained 
 A perfect shower of shot and shell, 
 But it appeared, they might as well 
 6 
 
Be firing peas or fine bird shot, 
 None seemed to reach a vital spot. 
 
 Nor e'en to wound was there a chance. 
 
 To help the round projectiles glance, 
 
 O'er all that sloping iron fleece 
 
 They had appUed a coat of grease; 
 
 Yet stubbornly the battle raged, 
 
 The most unequal ever waged, 
 
 Though the hulls of those two wooden ships 
 
 Were being fast reduced to chips, 
 
 And proved to those heroic men 
 
 A perfect human slaughter-pen; 
 
 Yet like the guards at Waterloo, 
 
 Defeat those veterans never knew, 
 
 Each man his country's sworn defender, 
 
 Death was their signal of surrender. 
 
 Against such odds they might suppose 
 
 Their bright career was near a close; 
 
 Of those fast tottering wooden walls 
 
 The Congress is the first that falls; 
 
 To the Cumberland, here let me mention^ 
 
 The Merrimac paid all attention; 
 
 The Congress, stranded and on fire, 
 
 No more attention did require. 
 
 Those combatants, now at close range, 
 Broadside for broadside did exchange. 
 But the rebel saw it would require 
 A stronger dose than broadside fire. 
 To achieve the final overthrow 
 Of his admired, tenacious foe; 
 Well found in means for to destroy 
 Two methods yet he could employ: 
 The first, though old in naval war. 
 The most destructive was by far; 
 Now the blood-thirsty, cruel craft 
 =*= Rakes the old frigate fore and aft, 
 Though 'mong the dying and the dead 
 The living scarce her deck could tread, 
 And their old ship a hopeless wreck. 
 Their courage had not felt a check; 
 So stubborn had the contest been, 
 7 
 
'Tvvas by the rebel chieftain seen, 
 When that destructive, raking fire 
 Failed to accomplish his desire, 
 The last new art must now be tried, 
 Since all the old had been defied. 
 Retiring for the fatal blow 
 About three hundred yards or so, 
 And under a full head of steam 
 Strikes the old veteran fair abeam 
 A butt with his great horn of steel. 
 Which to her doom attached the seal. 
 
 Though the old warrior's doom was sealed, 
 Her murderer did not quit the field, 
 But loitered broadside on near by 
 To see his stubborn victim die; 
 But dangerous is the dying flurry 
 Of those who ne'er die in a hurry, 
 Ouite often has the dying whale. 
 With one stroke of his ponderous tail. 
 Dealt death to the pursuing foes. 
 Who'd view too near its dying throes. 
 
 In painful silence foe and friend 
 
 Awaited patiently the end, 
 
 But better for the foe 'twould been 
 
 Had they not witnessed that death scene; 
 
 Crack shots were 'mong that frigate's crew, 
 
 No better e'er a lock-string drew. 
 
 E'en though they knew that all was lost. 
 
 Most faithfully maintained their post, 
 
 Like a life-long, devoted soul 
 
 When summoned to resign control. 
 
 Displeasure shows by mute protest 
 
 To be thus rudely dispossessed. 
 
 And, daring death, still lingers near 
 
 The home it held and loved so dear. 
 
 Now sinking slowly and with grace 
 Down to her final resting place. 
 Soon would the water reach a mark 
 When her war dogs would cease to bark; 
 Her crew in water to their waist, 
 8 
 
And their destroyer still abreast, 
 And with the watery foe to cope, 
 Still bright shone their revengeful hope; 
 E'en though revenge is never sour, 
 'Tis sweetest at the eleventh hour. 
 Those expert gunners at a glance 
 f Now saw their last and only chance. 
 They kept upon the monster trained 
 The few guns that intact remained. 
 Hoping, if not to kill, to maim. 
 And taking cool, deliberate aim, 
 A parting broadside at her poured, 
 Then, with three cheers, sprang overboard. 
 
 Though every gunner aimed his best. 
 One proved more accurate than the rest; 
 The other shots, though well directed. 
 By a hair'sbreadth might be deflected. 
 'Tis said if e'er the devil's killed. 
 This prophecy would be fulfilled. 
 'Twould be by chance or lucky shot, 
 That finds his vulnerable spot. 
 But the best ordnance yet invented 
 Has not yet e'en his armor dented. 
 Thev made the rebel monster's roof 
 Without a doubt projectile proof. 
 But the gun ports had been neglected. 
 So that her guns were unprotected; 
 One shell from that farewell salute 
 Bore the desired revengeful fruit; 
 It passed in through an open port 
 And bursting with a dull report, 
 Which 'mong her late victorious crew 
 Placed hors de combat quite a few. 
 Now satisfied the monster seems, 
 Who slowly back to Norfolk steams. 
 
 The Cumberland now sinks from sight, 
 So ends this story of the fight; 
 Yet though her body disappears, 
 Her stately spars still proudly rears. 
 And from the peak to mark her grave 
 Defiantly her colors wave. 
 9 
 
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The sun that rose so bright that day 
 Now sheds with his departing ray 
 A weird reflection o'er the graves 
 Of those heroic, martyr braves. 
 The echoes of her last broadside 
 Reached other nations far and wide, 
 Informing every naval power 
 That dating from the fatal hour 
 When the old frigate's spirit fled. 
 That all their wooden ships were dead, 
 Which billions of treasure cost. 
 Were henceforth, save their glory, lost. 
 
 Now, as the sable curtain falls 
 
 On those historic wooden walls, 
 
 A banquet of choice words are due 
 
 To that old ship's heroic crew. 
 
 Whose deeds eclipse the Spartan Band, » 
 
 For their exploit was on the land, 
 
 But in a wooden box at sea 
 
 Quite different the case would be. 
 
 Imagine, reader, how you'd feel 
 
 Fighting a ship incased in steel. 
 
 You in a battered wooden shell. 
 
 And the elements to fight as well. 
 
 Tho' I brand war a barbarous measure, 
 A needless waste of life and treasure. 
 Yet where such valor is displayed 
 An extra tribute should be paid; 
 In vain I've searched the language o'er 
 To find a word unused before, 
 But as heroes of the bygone days 
 Claim every brilliant word of praise. 
 Therefore I loth to give that band 
 A gift that would be second-hand. 
 
 To mark heroic deeds on shore 
 The battle-fields are dotted o'er 
 With some mute, everlasting token, 
 More eloquent than tribute spoken, 
 Tho' impossible the task would be 
 To decorate their graves at sea; 
 II 
 
Yet where the water's not too deep 
 Where heroes of the ocean sleep, 
 There should upon those sacred spots 
 Be planted stone forget-me-nots, 
 In grandeur towering to the sky, 
 Of something that would time defy, 
 A fitting monument should stand 
 Where sank the famous Cumberland. 
 
 The following notes are for the better information of those 
 who may be unfamiliar with the strategic manoeuvres or tactics 
 of old naval warfare : 
 
 *A raking or enfilading fire is when a vessel assumes a position 
 across the bows or stern of another, when one shot would do more 
 damage to ship and crew than would a score from a broadside fire. 
 The ship placed, if I may use the pugilistic phrase, in such a chan- 
 cery position, would be unable to return a shot, unless she had 
 pivot guns. 
 
 tAs the question might be asked, wh}' could not the expert 
 gunners of the Cumberland inflict damage on the Merrimac as well 
 at any time during the engagement as they did at the last moment, 
 I'll explain : The Merrimac's guns were not more than three or 
 four feet above the water line, whereas the greater buoyanc}- of the 
 Cumberland placed her battery at say thrice that distance above it; 
 consequently not till she had settled down, when sinking, so that 
 her guns were on a level with her antagonist's, could thej- be 
 brought to bear on her vulnerable parts. 
 
 Those who beheld that bloody fray 
 
 Would witness on the following day 
 
 One far more equal and uncruel, 
 
 A novel and a bloodless duel; 
 
 The champion of the coming fight, 
 
 The Monitor, arrived that night. 
 
 Had she arrived the night before. 
 
 No cause there would be to deplore 
 
 The loss of those heroic men 
 
 Whose lives were sacrificed in vain; 
 
 But we'll excuse her coming late, 
 
 As she came from a distant State, 
 
 Yet she came in the nick of time 
 
 To checkmate a much greater crime 
 
 (The Northern fleet's annihilation. 
 
 And doubtless, too, she saved the nation), 
 
 For now the Merrimac intended 
 
 To make her mischief more extended; 
 
 First she'd destroy the Minnesota, 
 
The last of Hampton Roads' quota. 
 Then on toward the open sea 
 Quite unopposed her course would be, 
 To Philadelphia and New York, 
 Then Boston, and perhaps to Cork, 
 Quite free in violent deeds to revel. 
 Might raise the blockade and the devil; 
 Like a- mad bull in a china shop, 
 When gorged with mischief then she'd stop. 
 But oft the plans of mice and men. 
 As Burns declared, are laid in vain, 
 For lo! beneath the flagship's wing 
 There laid the queerest looking thing. 
 Naught e'er in water, land nor air, 
 Was seen that with it could compare; 
 A Southerner best compared the craft 
 To a big cheese- box on a raft. 
 He drew her likeness to the letter. 
 An artist could not take it better. 
 The *cheese-box was the leading feature 
 Of that quaint, harmless looking creature. 
 Ten inches thick, and strongly braced. 
 And in it, side by side, were placed 
 Two of the largest guns then cast — 
 Eleven inch bore, and Dahlgren cbssed. 
 By steam the turret was revolved, 
 Which was another problem solved; 
 E'en though the vessel laid aground, 
 Her guns could sweep a circle round. 
 Except the turret, fore and aft 
 The deck was flush, just like a raft, 
 Ten inches thick was the side armor. 
 Naught save a torpedo could harm her. 
 The weight of armor sank her low, 
 Two feet free-board she had or so. 
 „Thus a small target was presented, 
 Which, e'en if struck, would simply dent it. 
 Viewed at a distance she appeared 
 Naught like a thing that would be feared. 
 But one could see, on close inspection, 
 A warrior with complete protection. 
 ^Turret. 
 
 13 
 
But I must end descriptive prattle, 
 
 And gird my armor on for battle; 
 
 Scarce had the Minnesota's gun 
 
 Proclaimed its welcome to the sun. 
 
 E'er its resounding echoes died, 
 
 Her vigilant lookout espied 
 
 The great Goliah of the South 
 
 Approaching near the river's mouth. 
 
 That demon which the North most dreaded 
 
 Straight for the Minnesota headed; 
 
 To meet the giant now goes forth 
 
 The little David of the North. 
 
 The combatants reserved their fire 
 
 Till at the range they did require. 
 
 Both friend and foe, with bated breath, 
 
 Watched that great duel to the death. 
 
 I should have said twas to the life. 
 
 For really 'twas a bloodless strife — 
 
 Like gladiators, breast to breast. 
 
 Their armor stood the fairest test. 
 
 Till cloud.s of smoke obscured the scene,. 
 
 So rapid had the firing been. 
 
 Now since the heavy iron hail 
 
 Had failed to pierce their coats of mail, 
 
 And their great gunnery exhibition 
 
 Was but a waste of ammunition. 
 
 The giant found he had to deal 
 
 With something worthy of his steel. 
 
 The Monitor, though undcr:r>ized. 
 Was not a foe to be despised. 
 'Twas now observed, the Merrimac 
 Manceuvered for a ram attack; 
 Said her commander, with a frown, 
 I'll run the little Yankee down. 
 So bent upon her overthrow, 
 Strikes her a great, but harmless blow . 
 The Monitor received the shock 
 As if she'd been a sunken rock. 
 The rebel chief, now much amazed, 
 Upon the Yankee wonder gazed, 
 And doubtless while her features scanned, 
 14 
 
Had this new evolution plamieid. 
 Now, since we've tried the ram in vain, 
 Oaoth he, we'll try the guns again; 
 Fire the whole broadside, fore and aft. 
 And sweep that cheese-box off the raft. 
 He thought that concentrated fire 
 Would gratify his pet desire; 
 Though every shot had struck it fliir, 
 The stubborn cheese box still was there. 
 Now in despair, the Southern chief. 
 Incapable of more mischief, 
 Since all his fairest hopes were blasted, 
 And his offensive means exhausted, 
 A few more harmless shots were fired, 
 When from the contest he retired. 
 Now both, as if by mute consent, 
 Therr tactics having all been spent, 
 From this unique contest withdrew, 
 With scarce a scratch to craft nor crew. 
 Save by the bursting of a shell, 
 The Monitor's commander fell. 
 When coming at the lookout slot, 
 A shell exploded at the s[)ot, 
 Which lefi him, though a'ive to- day, 
 A shattered relic ol the fray. 
 But may the hero of that fight 
 Long wear his years and ailments light; 
 But after death removes the burden, 
 The fame will live of John L. Worden. 
 
 'Twas then a matter of regret. 
 And seems to some a mystery yet, 
 As the Merrimac first to retreat. 
 Was deemed a token of defeat, 
 Why the Monitor did not pursue 
 Displeased a number ol her crew. 
 But they in charge declared it best. 
 As lioth were tirtd, to take a r^st, 
 hor all tiie .''its they could contrive, 
 Would fail to caj'ture her alive. 
 A.'ul to pur.sue her, might at best. 
 But Ic.ul iliem to ;i hornet's nest. 
 16 
 
Oft has it proved a source of woe 
 
 To follow a retreating foe; 
 
 Quite oft on land to ambuscade 
 
 And in the water might be laid, 
 
 Torpedoes or unseen obstruction, 
 
 Which would insure complete destruction. 
 
 Yet when the Merrimac retreated. 
 
 It might be said she was defeated. 
 
 When on her pumps the water gained. 
 
 Proved she'd been either hulled or strained. 
 
 If the dry dock had not been near, 
 
 Quite likely she'd no more appear; 
 
 But when her leaky wounds were healed, 
 
 And once more in the watery field, 
 
 'Twas evident she was af:aid 
 
 To risk another hostile raid. 
 
 Though often she appeared in sight 
 
 And seemed to say, come here and fight, 
 
 She acted like a cunning rat 
 
 In presence of a watchful cat. 
 
 Within her fortified retreat, 
 
 In full view of the Yankee fleet. 
 
 She could observe from day to day 
 
 Some fresh arrivals in the bay. 
 
 Great steamships had from harmless lambs 
 
 Been transformed into powerful rams — 
 
 In fact, all thought of means were there 
 
 To keep the monster in her lair. 
 
 But destiny, it would appear, 
 
 Had doomed her for a short career; 
 
 To be confined, a prisoner there. 
 
 Was more than her proud heart could bear; 
 
 She, who'd the Northern fleet defied, 
 
 Now contemplated suicide. 
 
 Pitch dark and gloomy was the night 
 When her great spirit took its flight. 
 There leaped toward the murky sky 
 A lurid glare with rumbling sigh, • 
 
 Like a volcano or earthquake, 
 Which made the earth and water shake; 
 17 
 
Baptized in blood, 'mid smoke and fire, 
 'Mid smoke and flame, she did expire. 
 
 The Monitor was later doomed. 
 Off Hatteras she lies entombed. 
 Some time she was employed at home 
 E'er she felt a desire to roam. 
 And blinded by her high ambition, 
 Ne'er thought of her submerged condition. 
 Projectile proof, yet never dreaming. 
 She was unfit for ocean swimming; 
 Tho' in water, free from angry swell. 
 The creature could do fairly well. 
 
 She joined a naval expedition 
 
 Bound for the birthplace* of sedition, 
 
 And on the route they had to pass 
 
 That stormy point, Cape Hatteras. 
 
 One of the fleet had her in tow. 
 
 When a great storm commenced to blow, 
 
 When giant waves began to pound her, 
 
 The little craft began to founder; 
 
 So she, who'd laughed at shot and shell, 
 
 Beneath the blows of Neptune fell. 
 
 Much credit to her escort's due 
 
 For saving all the gallant crew% 
 
 For had no succor been at hand, 
 
 They'd sleep with her in the quicksand. 
 
 'Twas deemed a saJ and serious error. 
 To send from home the little terror, 
 The timely saver of the nation 
 Should have been given a long vacation, 
 For life she should have been retired 
 When her antagonist expired. 
 
 Yet with her fame, as a reminder. 
 She left a noble race behind her, 
 So much improved, one way or other, 
 The children scarce would know their mother. 
 , Some with two turrets, some with three, 
 
 And some has ventured far at sea. 
 *Charleston, S. C. 
 
 i8 
 
But 'tis within the last decade 
 
 The greatest progress has been made, 
 
 As the inventor's fertile mind 
 
 To one class has not been confined. 
 
 Now many varied types we see 
 
 As near perfection as can be; 
 
 Some specially for war designed, 
 
 And some for speed and war combined. 
 
 But there's a problem yet unsolved, 
 
 Where gun and armor is involved. 
 
 E'er since the struggle was begun 
 
 Between the armor and the gun; 
 
 Both in the long and stubborn race 
 
 Would seem to keep an equal pace, 
 
 But a slight advantage, up to date, 
 
 Appears to lean toward the plate. 
 
 Since naval armor's natal day 
 
 O'er thirty years have passed away. 
 
 Yet did a thousand intervene, 
 
 That great event would still be green. 
 
 So should the memory of the one 
 
 Whose genius first defied the gun. 
 
 Tho' he sleeps in his native land, 
 
 Here's where a monument should stand. 
 
 And I suggest upon the site 
 
 Of his creation's maiden fight. 
 
 In grandeur it should far surpass 
 
 Aught yet erected of its class. 
 
 It should be of a rare design. 
 
 Where novelty and strength combine, 
 
 Of figures shown in bold relief 
 
 The battle scene should be the chief; 
 
 To crown the summit, they should place 
 
 A statue time could ne'er efface, 
 
 Of the nation's great adopted son 
 
 And chief protector, Ericsson! 
 
 JAMES EGGO. 
 
 19 
 
The Old Battle=Ship's Advice to 
 
 the New. 
 
 I am an old battleship, but my battles are o'er, 
 Like the whale and the buffalo herds of the plain, 
 
 Soon the places that knew us will know us no more; 
 Then naught but a historic name will remain. 
 
 Soon will the brave men who have guarded my life, 
 
 Who of hardships and dangers have borne the best share, 
 
 Hear the last call to quarters by death's drum and fife, 
 To cast loose and for life's final battle prepare. 
 
 Noble son and successor, before I retire 
 
 I have something to tell you, range up alongside; 
 
 A word of advice from your battle tried sire 
 
 Might serve you, and surely won't humble your pride. 
 
 Tho' no doubt you feel safe in your raiment of steel. 
 Ne'er view your opponent with haughty disdain; 
 
 Be courageous, yet never too confident feel, 
 
 For a giant perchance by a dwarf could be slain. 
 
 Though quite safe up above in your steel overcoat. 
 Two dangers will threaten your life from below; 
 
 The ram or the swift little torpedo boat 
 
 Would end your existence with a single blow. 
 
 Yet the time is approaching, and welcome the day. 
 When the civilized powers against war will combine; 
 
 When we'll need j-ou for battle no more they will say, 
 Then your fine costly hull will be worthless like mine. 
 
 But if called to do battle, whate'er may betide. 
 
 Though assailed by the ram, the torpedo and gun. 
 
 In the words of Paul Jones, better sink alongside 
 Than tarnish the fame that your fathers have won. 
 
 May the men who'll defend you defeat never know. 
 Let them keep the brave Lawrence's motto in view,* 
 
 Let them rather, if summoned, than yield to the foe, 
 
 Die or sink at their guns, like the Cumberland's crew. 
 
 JAMES EGGO. 
 *Don't give up the ship. 
 
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