From the big eleven-inch guns of the Monitor shot after shot was hurled against the slanting armored walls of the Merrimac.
Broadside after broadside poured from her guns against the iron-clad tower of the Monitor.
The Merrimac, drawing twenty feet of water, was slow and difficult to handle. The game little Monitor drew but twelve feet and required no maneuvering. Her tower revolved. She could stand and fight in one spot all day.
The big black hull of the Merrimac bore down on the Monitor now to ram and sink her at a blow. The nimble craft side stepped the avalanche of iron, turned quickly and attempted to jamb her nose into the steering gear of the Southerner—but in vain.
For two solid hours the iron-clads pounded and hammered each other. The shots made no impression on either boat.
Again the Merrimac tried to ram her antagonist and run her aground. The nimble foe avoided the blow, though struck a grinding, crushing side-swipe.
The little Monitor now stuck her nose squarely against the side of the Merrimac, held it there, and fired both her eleven-inch guns against the walls of the Southerner.
The charge of powder was not heavy enough. No harm was done. The impact of the shots had merely forced the sloping sides an inch or two.
The captain of the Merrimac turned to his men in sharp command.