Expedition to Port Royal Ferry. Progress up Broad River. Colonel Perry
acting brigadier-general. The rebel yell heard for the first time. The
regiment's first baptism of fire. The old horse. Night on the field.
Return to Hilton Head. Object of the expedition. Presentation of
flag to the regiment. Off for Dawfuskie. Southern homes. Preparatory
work by Major Beard and others. Building batteries on Jones and Bird
Islands. Mud and malaria. Reconnoissances and midnight wanderings.
The closing day of the year brought rumors of a contemplated movement.
The scene of operations, and their extent, were only subjects for
conjecture. Early on the last day of the year, we received notice to
be in readiness to march with a number of days' cooked rations, and
about noon of that day started for the dock. The expedition was under
the command of General Stephens, and two regiments were taken from our
brigade,--the 47th and our own,--in addition to those of his regular
command. By the middle of the afternoon we were on board of the steam
transport Delaware, and on our way up Broad River towards Beaufort,
where we anchored for the night. In the early morning, we started for
Port Royal Ferry, against which point we learned that the expedition
was directed. Several gunboats accompanied us, under the command of
Captain Rodgers. Our progress up the river was slow and cautious, until
we arrived opposite the plantation of Mr. Adams, where we disembarked.
We were much interested, while on the steamer, in watching that portion
of our troops already landed, as they could be distinctly seen,
pursuing their winding way through the woods and over the fields,
their bayonets glistening in the sunlight. Sometimes they went at
slow step, at others in quick or double-quick time. Sometimes they
fired, and charged the Confederates whom they encountered, while the
gunboats covered them to guard against attack by superior forces, all
the time shelling the woods in front of them as they advanced. As soon
as landed, we formed in line and moved forward, the two regiments--the
47th New York and our own--under the command of Colonel Perry. Acting
as reserves, the duty assigned us was to intercept the Confederate
retreat. Very soon, however, orders were received to attack the
battery which was found to cover the road over which we were expected
to advance, and the 47th was moved through the woods on the right to
attack it in flank, while the 48th was to charge in front. Some delay
occurred in establishing the position of the 47th, and arranging so
that the attack might be simultaneous. Well do I remember the rebel
yell, heard for the first time as I was returning from conveying
orders from our colonel to the 47th. Accompanied by the discharge of
cannon and musketry, it seemed, to my unaccustomed ears, as if the
inhabitants of pandemonium had been let loose, and as I rounded the
last point of woods which shut out from view the scene of operations,
I expected nothing less than a hand-to-hand conflict. Instead, I found
the regiment lying quietly down between the furrows of a cornfield,
over which the Confederate shot skipped harmlessly. In this way the men
were protected while awaiting the final order to charge. This was found
unnecessary, for the yell of the Confederates proved only the parting
word given while in the act of abandoning the battery, which was
speedily occupied by our troops. The guns were removed, and the works
destroyed, and we continued our advance towards Port Royal Ferry, where
the enemy was known to be strongly entrenched.
At this time two horses had been captured and placed at the disposal
of the colonel and his aid, to which position I had been appointed. I
have no recollections of the colonel's, but my horse soon gave evidence
of manifold infirmities. Three times we rolled over together on that
cotton-field, before it was discovered that, with his other weaknesses,
he was stone blind, when he was left to tempt some other officer, and I
returned to nature's conveyance, sadder and sorer for the experience.
That night we lay down on the field, but gained little rest, as the
Confederates were known to be in force in the vicinity, and an attack
was looked for. The next morning we embarked for Hilton Head, the
objects of the expedition having been accomplished, in the destruction
of the Confederate works, which were being constructed for the purpose
of preventing any forward movement on our part in that direction, and
confining us closely within the territory already captured. This was
only one of the points which the Confederates proposed to fortify,
which were intended not only as a restraint upon any forward movement
by us, but also as bases of aggressive operations against us.
January 12 the regiment was presented, through Adjutant Goodell, with
a beautiful flag from the ladies of Hanson Place Methodist-Episcopal
Church of Brooklyn, of which Colonel Perry had been pastor. That flag
has waved over many battle-fields, and is a witness that the 48th never
faltered in the discharge of any duty. It is now in the custody of the
Long Island Historical Society, having been committed to its charge,
with suitable ceremonies, on the evening of April 21, 1881.
January 25, 1862, we broke camp, and marched to Seabrook's Landing,
on our way to Dawfuskie, an island bordering on the Savannah River,
some four or five miles above Fort Pulaski. That night we spent at
Seabrook's, and on the next morning embarked on the steamer Winfield
Scott, and proceeded to a place on Dawfuskie called Hay's Point,
where five companies disembarked, and at 9 P.M., under the command of
Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, started for the other side of the island.
Three hours of wearisome marching brought us to Dunn's plantation on
the bank of the river. Pickets were established, and sentries posted,
and we got what sleep we could. The next day was occupied largely in
procuring supplies of food, as everything of that nature had been left
on the Winfield Scott. Detachments were sent out in all directions to
secure the cattle, pigs and poultry abandoned by their owners on the
approach of our troops, and to collect whatever else could be found
that was edible. The men were quartered in the houses and sheds,
while the officers occupied the family mansion. In the afternoon we
learned that the Winfield Scott had been wrecked on Long Pine Island,
where the other wing of the regiment remained until taken off by the
steamer Mayflower, which conveyed them, with the regimental baggage
and supplies, to Cooper's Landing, on Dawfuskie. At this point they
remained until February 1, when they joined us, and, a permanent camp
was established near the borders of the woods, a little way back from
the river.
During the interval there was little of severe duty, and all were
allowed the largest liberty consistent with proper discipline. Frequent
excursions were made to different points on the island, especially
to the beautiful residences along the shore. Of these, the most
attractive were Munger's and Stoddard's, the former a short distance
below us, the latter some miles away, and occupying a commanding
position, overlooking the sound. Both gave evidence of large wealth
and cultivated tastes, in the character of the houses and beauty of
their surroundings, and as we wandered through the shaded avenues, and
among the shrubs and flowers, in gardens where roses and japonicas grew
in tropical luxuriance, where the air was full of sweet odors, and
the eye confused with the multitude and variety of brilliant colors,
and remembered that these abodes of happiness and beauty had been
abandoned to pillage and destruction, and that wherever our armies
penetrated, homes would be broken up, and in the place of comfort would
come suffering, and in the place of beauty, desolation, we cursed the
madness of those who had brought such miseries on the land.
[Illustration: OBSTRUCTIONS IN SAVANNAH RIVER.]
While we were enjoying this short season of comparative idleness,
active and aggressive operations were going on all about us.
Expeditions were planned, obstructions removed from the creeks and
rivers where openings were desired, and midnight scouting parties
penetrated the surrounding country in all directions, even to the very
walls of Pulaski. In all of these, Major Beard, of our regiment, took a
leading part, and did most efficient service. As we sat around the fire
one evening at Dunn's, he suddenly appeared among us, with General
Gilmore, who had already been promoted from the position of Captain
of Engineers in the regular army, to that of Brigadier-General of
volunteers. They had just returned from the work of clearing the spiles
from Wall's Cut, by which a convenient way was opened for our boats
to the Savannah. Much of the night was spent in listening to their
adventures, but we little knew how intimately connected these were with
our own immediate future.
It was not long after our camp was established, before we had our
full share of labor and danger. It had been determined to establish
batteries on the islands of the Savannah, to cut off communication with
Fort Pulaski, and prevent re-enforcements and supplies. The points
where these were to be located having been selected, the engineers
were ordered to prepare the materials for their construction, and
our regiment and a portion of the 7th Connecticut were employed for
weeks in conveying this material from the woods to the dock for
transportation. Some eight or ten thousand logs, of from ten to
fifteen feet in length, and from three to six inches in diameter, were
carried a distance of from three-quarters of a mile to a mile and a
half, on the shoulders of our men, and, in consequence, many of our
best soldiers were ruptured or otherwise injured, and crept out of the
service, maimed and ruined for life. Late on the evening of February
9, a detachment under Captain Greene was ordered to report at the dock
to complete the loading of the Mayflower. It was raining very hard,
but the men worked faithfully until after midnight, when word came
from brigade headquarters to take off a part of the load. This was
done, and the admirable foresight of the commanding general was fully
appreciated, as was manifest from the frequent comments in which the
men indulged, which had the merit of earnestness if not of elegance.
At 3 A.M. of the 10th, we started for Jones Island. We were all wet,
hungry, and tired. Not expecting to leave Dawfuskie, we had taken no
provisions. There was no opportunity for sleep, for, arriving quickly
at the point of debarkation, the work of unloading and conveying the
materials across the island was pushed forward hurriedly. It was a
season of the year when, even in this southern latitude, the sun gave
but scanty heat, and the men must needs work lively to keep the blood
from chilling. The island was but a deposit of soft mud, into which
they sank to their knees at almost every step, while occasionally the
logs or planks which they carried were needed to bridge over spots
otherwise impassable. During the forenoon, a party was despatched to
camp in a small boat, for food, but the supply which they brought was
totally inadequate, from the size of the boat and the number to be fed.
During the day all the materials for building the battery were conveyed
across the island, a distance of about a mile.
While engaged in this work, a Confederate steamer made its appearance,
and stopped opposite, and so near to us that every movement of those
on deck was discernible. The officers, with their glasses, scoured
every point in the vicinity, while we crouched down among the
cane-brakes. So long as the steamer remained, we expected a shot from
her guns, or a closer inspection by one of her boats, which would have
been extremely disagreeable, as the order for detail required us to
leave our guns in camp, and there were not six rifles on the island.
Fortunately we were not discovered, and the steamer, after a little
delay, proceeded down to Fort Pulaski. About this time the guns for the
battery arrived, and the general in command of the district, who had
arrived with them, declared that they must be mounted before morning.
We felt very much like harnessing him to the foremost, and giving
him a taste of Jones Island mud, but there were objections to such a
procedure, and, instead, we made a platform on which to load them,
and prepared to do our utmost. By frequent crossing and recrossing, a
way had been sufficiently marked through the canes, but the constant
tread of heavy feet had reduced the soft mud to the consistency of oil
for a depth of several inches, making a road not perfectly calculated
for the transportation of cannon. However, there was no time for
hesitation, and placing two planks before the wheels, we united our
strength in the task of maintaining them on these planks, while we
carefully urged them on, replacing the planks as we proceeded. Woe be
it, if, slipping on the greasy mud which covered the planks, as they
sometimes did, they buried themselves in the soft embrace of its slimy
nastiness. Should it be asked how were they recovered, it would be
impossible to tell. We can only say they were, and that with slow and
suffering steps we guided, pushed, and pulled them forward, until flesh
and blood rebelled at loss of food and sleep, and they were covered
up, and we ordered back to camp, to be relieved by others. We had to
wait, however, until the relief came from Dawfuskie, and I quote from
Sergeant Thompson's journal to show how this second night was spent:
"At midnight we covered the guns and endeavored to find some place
to lie down in. Found a place, but was soon routed out by the tide.
Came to the conclusion to walk the rest of the night to keep warm.
Found a twenty-foot plank with four men on it. Jumped on and ran my
chance. Kept moving until morning." This was only the beginning of
such labor and exposure, and is it a wonder that so many men, protected
from rebel bullets, have come out of such a service as we have here
described, to worry through a life of suffering, the effects of which
they have transmitted, and will continue to transmit to children and
to children's children. The malaria of those mud islands is considered
death to any one, even to such as have been acclimated to the South,
and their only inhabitant is the ugly alligator.
This battery was hardly established before, pushing across the river,
another was planted on Bird Island, farther up, so that, together, they
cut off all further communication with Fort Pulaski, by way of the
Savannah. An attempt was made to destroy these batteries, but without
result, except in the disabling of several of the enemy's steamers,
after which we were left in undisputed possession.
The smell of the mud of Bird Island lingers in the nostrils yet, and
it is no wonder that in the progress of the work of establishing the
battery, at times not a man was fit for duty. Whiskey and quinine were
powerless to stay the effects of such labor and exposure. As a partial
protection, our tents were nailed to heavy timbers a foot or more in
diameter, snatched from the river as they floated down, while boards
were laid across on which we slept, but even then in the high spring
tides we were scarcely out of water, and not a spot was dry on the
whole island.
During our stay on Bird Island, frequent reconnoissances were made
up the river in different directions. One dark night, two boats were
sent up the Savannah, on either side of Elba Island, to ascertain if
batteries were being planted, which would threaten ours of Bird and
Jones Islands. Closely hugging the shore, we worked along cautiously,
to avoid being seen by the Confederate pickets. At a distance of some
miles from where we started, while the pickets on the shore were
plainly visible by the light of their camp fires, one of our men was
attacked with a sudden and most sonorous cough. Suspecting that it was
intended to stop our further progress, we waited patiently for its
cessation, and resumed our progress up the river, until suddenly the
sound of voices immediately in front of us gave warning that we had
gone too far for safety. Fortunately, the tide had turned, and a single
whisper stopped the motion of the oars, otherwise we should not have
suffered long from the chillness of the night air. Dropping back with
the tide, stopping occasionally to learn more certainly that there were
no batteries where they had been suspected, we reached our quarters in
season for an early breakfast.
Lying alongside, but extending much farther up the river than Bird,
was McQueen's Island, the upper extremity of which was bounded by
St. Augustine's Creek, which connected the Savannah with Wilmington
River, and afforded a channel of communication with Fort Pulaski by
means of small boats. Across St. Augustine's Creek, the telegraph wire
connecting the city with the fort had been stretched on tall, heavily
constructed spindles. The wire had been destroyed some time before, but
the fact that steamboats from Savannah, at some risk from our battery,
continued to come down to this point, and seemed busily engaged in
some operations near these spindles, determined Major Beard, who
commanded on the island, to investigate the matter, and, if possible,
to bring away a scow which was known to be lying in that vicinity.
The investigation was very proper, but the object of getting the scow
we never understood. However, a detail was made, a boat was dragged
across McQueen's Island to Wilmington River, and from that point a
small party, with a guide supposed to be acquainted with the region,
started for these spindles. It was a curious experience, paddling along
under the overhanging banks in perfect silence, save when the vivid
imagination of some one of the party pictured a Confederate picket from
some peculiar conformation of the shore or eccentric growth of bush
or shrub, when a word of caution would stay our progress until cooler
eyes discovered the deception. One of the party even descried a picket
beside its camp fire, whose bright glow shed a clear light upon their
waiting figures, but to all the others there was but the blackness
of darkness, and we passed on without molestation. The leaky little
dug-out, which required constant bailing to keep it afloat, had room
for neither rest nor comfort. Hour after hour we paddled along with
the incoming tide, vainly hoping to reach the point we sought, every
moment taking us farther within the lines of the enemy, and when, at
last, completely lost amidst a maze of devious, winding creeks, the
tide turned, we turned also, and by marvellous good fortune found our
way back before the morning dawn discovered us to the Confederates.
Determined to have that scow, and equally determined to have a better
knowledge of the country before a second attempt was made, a small
party was started one bright afternoon, which, rowing some distance up
the river, landed on McQueen's Island, and striking through the canes,
made straight for the spindles. We took no notice of the picket on the
other side of the island, but kept right on, until, approaching the
shore of the creek, the men were held back behind the trees and bushes
which grew along the bank, until we could be assured of no special
danger. Satisfied on this point, they were allowed to come on, and we
gathered along the shore, and endeavored to impress upon each others'
minds the direction of the creek, the location of the scow, and the
probable means of reaching it from Wilmington River. The order to
return had been given, when suddenly the Confederates appeared from
behind the timbers of the spindles opposite, and not a hundred yards
distant, and from the bushes near, and the order to lie down was given
none too quickly to avoid the bullets which came whistling over our
heads in close proximity. No one of our party was hurt, and we never
received an official report of the number killed and wounded by our
return fire. The locality was not sufficiently attractive to induce
us to remain until the report was made up. Not only the danger of
being cut off by the picket we had passed, but the shells from our own
battery soon began to trouble us, for, as it afterwards transpired,
one of our number, unaccustomed to the sound of bullets, became so
thoroughly frightened at the first discharge that he started for camp
by the most direct course, and on his arrival announced that we had
been attacked by greatly superior numbers, and that he had been sent
back for re-enforcements. Our own battery was soon throwing shot and
shell over our heads, much to our discomfort,--for those missiles often
make serious mistakes, and fall where they are least intended,--and
all that could be spared were preparing to set out to rescue us from
the peril to which we were exposed, when our appearance on the river
put an end to the alarm. On reaching the island, we found the utmost
excitement prevailing, and that every preparation had been made for the
reception and care of our wounded. The author of all this confusion
was discovered to be suffering the extreme effects of fright, and in a
pitiable condition of mental and physical prostration. His youth, for
he was a mere boy, shielded him from the consequences of his conduct,
which otherwise would have been very serious. He was never permitted,
however, to forget the circumstances and effects of his fright. Soon
after this I was sent to Wilmington River to intercept the despatch
boats, which, we had reason to suppose, found their way to the fort,
but although many nights were spent in watching, while the miasma from
the swamps was doing its deadly work, penetrating to the very bone and
marrow, and preparing many a poor fellow for his final rest, the creeks
and rivers which intersected the country in all directions afforded
abundant means for avoiding us, and we made no captures.