but "September had come," write Nicolay and Hay, "before the plan and the man were found that were adapted to the work. The scheme was to fit out two small steam launches rigged with spar torpedoes, and armed with howitzers, which should try to reach the ram at night by surprise; the man was Lieutenant William B. Cushing, who had attracted the attention of his superiors by several noteworthy examples of coolness and daring. Once he had landed by night with two boat crews at the town of Smithville, being rowed under the very guns of Fort Caswell, walked with three men to General Louis Hébert's headquarters, captured an officer of engineers, the general himself being absent in Wilmington, and had come away safely with his prisoner, from a post garrisoned by a thousand men. "At another time, having volunteered to destroy the ironclad Raleigh, supposed to be lying in the Cape Fear River, he went in his cutter up the stream, eluding the sentries on either shore, landed within seven miles of Wilmington, thoroughly reconnoitred the place, found the Raleigh a total wreck, and after three days of adventures in which his luck and daring were equally amazing, he was intercepted on his return down the river in the moonlight by a whole fleet of guard boats and his escape apparently wholly cut off. Turning about, he found himself confronted by a schooner filled with troops. Instead of surrendering, he dashed for New Inlet; and, seconded by his crew, who always seemed when with him as insensible to danger as himself, he escaped into the breakers, where the enemy dared not follow, and safely rejoined his ship. His perfect coolness in critical emergencies was a matter of temperament rather than calculation. He prepared everything in advance with a care and judgment remarkable in one so young; but when the time of action came, the immediate peril of death was nothing more than a gentle stimulant to him; he enjoyed it as he would a frolic. He was a handsome youth, twenty-one years of age; six feet high; with a beardless face and bright auburn hair.

"After conferences with Admiral Lee and Mr. Fox, the assistant secretary of the navy, Cushing went to New York and found two launches, at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, suited to his purpose. They were forty-six feet in length, nine and one-half feet wide, and drew about forty inches. While they were being equipped for the work by Engineerin-Chief W. W. Wood, of the navy, Cushing visited his mother in Fredonia, N. Y., and confided to her his intention, saying he needed her prayers. Returning to New York, he took his launches out and tested his torpedoes, and then started them southward, by way of Chesapeake Bay; one of them on the way was attacked by guerrillas and burned. At Hampton Roads, Cushing refitted his only remaining boat, and passing through the Dismal Swamp, came to Roanoke Island. There he gave out that he was bound for Beaufort and steamed away by night to join the fleet which was lying off the mouth of the Roanoke River, the senior officer being Commander W. H. Macomb, whose flagship was the Shamrock.

"Here for the first time Cushing disclosed to his officers and men the purpose of his expedition, leaving them free to go or stay as they preferred; all wanted to go with him. Several others volunteered, among them Paymaster Francis H. Swan, whose anxiety for a fight was paid by a severe wound and four months in Libby prison; W. L. Howarth, Cushing's tried and trusted companion in former adventures, and two other master's mates, Thos. S. Gay and John Woodman; two engineer officers, Steever and Stotesbury, and eight men. A cutter from the Shamrock was taken in tow with eleven men; their duty was to board the wreck of the Southfield, if the guard which was known to be posted there should discover the party as they passed. A false start was made on the night of the 26th; the boat ran aground, and so much time was wasted in getting her off that the expedition was postponed twenty-four hours. At midnight, in rain and storm, the devoted little party set forth. Fortune favored them at first; they passed the

wreck of the Southfield without a hail, and came in view of the few lights of Plymouth.

"The little noise made by the low-pressure engines was muffled with tarpaulins, which also concealed every ray of light from the launch. Cushing stood near the bow, connected by lines with every part of the boat as the brain is by nerves with every limb. He held a line by which he was to detach the torpedo from the spar which carried it, when it should have been shoved under the overhang of the ram; another, by which he was to explode it after it had floated up to a point of contact; and two more, one attached to his wrist and one to the ankle of the engineer, by which he directed the movements of the boat. He had two complete plans in his mind; one was to use his own nervous phrase 'to take the Albemarle alive,' by landing some distance below, stealing up, and dashing on her from the wharf; but just as he was sheering close to the lower wharf he heard a dog bark, a sentry hail, and a moment afterwards a shot was fired. Instantly dismissing his first plan, Cushing ordered the cutter to cast loose and row to capture the Southfield's picket; and then, putting on all steam, he rushed for the ram, whose black bulk loomed in the darkness before him. By the light of a fire on the wharf he discovered that she was surrounded by a boom of logs extending all around her for the express purpose of protecting her against torpedoes. A brisk fire opened on the launch from the ship and the shore, but his keen intelligence was only sharpened by the danger, and he saw at a glance that on the course he was taking he could not get over the boom. He therefore sheered off a hundred yards, and then turning came at full speed to strike the logs at right angles, hoping thus to slide over them, and getting inside the sort of pen they formed, to reach the ram.

"The fire had by this time become severe; Swan was wounded; Cushing's clothes were torn by three bullets; the sole of his shoe was carried away, but he was unhurt and very happy. Being hailed again, as he dashed forward, he