It is certain that the whole story of this event will never be told; for it was brought about by officers of the navy, who, after serving honorably for many years under the flag, were not only willing to turn on the flag, as many did with satisfied consciences, but were willing to stoop to the shameful work of pretending to be loyal advisers of the nation’s naval Secretary when they were secretly plotting the destruction of the nation. While yet Virginia had not passed the ordinance of secession these men “lost no opportunity to impress upon the mind of the Secretary of the Navy the importance of doing nothing to offend the State of Virginia.” These naval officers, who were working day and night to overthrow the government, stopped at nothing. The commandant of the navy yard at Washington was one of them. In the midst of his plottings his daughter was married to one of the younger plotters, and the others of the gang were, of course, present at the wedding. “The house was everywhere festooned with the American flag, even to the bridal bed.” And down at the Norfolk Navy Yard one of the Southern officers went to Commodore McCauley, after the Pensacola Navy Yard had been turned over to the Confederates, and said: “You have no Pensacola officers here, Commodore; we will never desert you; we will stand by you to the last, even to the death.” And this was said with the deliberate intent of keeping the commodore from doing anything that might save the nation’s property for the use of the government. One need not search long for words to describe such actions. [Illustration: Hiram Paulding. _From an engraving by Hall._] Secretary Welles called Capt. Hiram Paulding, an officer of known loyalty, to advise him. Paulding broke up the nest of scoundrels who wore the uniform that they might the more easily betray the flag, but it was then too late to prevent the accomplishment of the object for which they had chiefly labored--the betraying of the Norfolk Navy Yard into the hands of the enemy. Large bodies of Confederate troops were already gathering at Norfolk, although Virginia had not passed her secession ordinances. Commodore McCauley was an old man and no match for the young scoundrels who at Norfolk, as in Washington, held on to their commissions and drew their pay up to the last day possible. They were incessant in their labors to prevent anything being done that would move a ship or a gun from the yard or add a loyal man to its forces. “Early in April”--note that it was not until April--“the Department began to get very uneasy for the safety of the navy yard.” “The Department was most anxious to get the _Merrimac_ away, but was informed by Commodore McCauley that it would take a month to put her machinery in working order.” No one seemed “to reflect that a few armed towboats with marines on board” could have taken every ship from the yard to an anchorage under Fortress Monroe.